Galactic Empire Wars: Rebellion (The Galactic Empire Wars Book 3) (8 page)

“Anytime, Rios,”
spoke Ryan. “Private Parker, save your energy weapon for the summit. Corporal
Hunter and I will take out the remaining popups.”

“I’m gone!” Rios
shouted as he suddenly stood up to his full height and bounded up the steep
slope. He took a deep breath and braced himself for the pain he knew was
coming.

He hadn’t gone
more than twenty meters when the first RG rounds slammed into his suit, making
his icon change from green to amber. He managed to stagger forward another ten meters
before a pair of stunners struck him, sending his battlesuit tumbling to the
ground.

Ryan and Casey
were firing as rapidly as they could, taking out the remaining weapon
emplacements. They couldn’t afford to miss; each round had to count.

“I’m out,”
Casey called out as her RG rifle failed to fire on the last popup.

“So am I,”
Ryan yelled as he saw the stunner swiftly turning toward Casey. It suddenly
exploded as Private Parker blew it away with a blue beam from his energy
cannon.

“We should be
clear to the summit,” commented Private Parker as he walked over to Casey and
handed her his energy weapon. “There’s only one way to find out.”

“Parker!”
yelled Ryan as Alexander began running up the slope toward the summit.

Parker zigzagged
but no weapons fired. When he reached the summit, he hunkered down behind a
large boulder and looked back down toward Ryan and Casey. “I think we got all
of them.”

Casey shook
her head. “We got lucky,” she spoke as she began walking up the slope toward
Parker. His actions and what Rios had done confused her as she still didn’t
fully understand why Humans acted as they did. She still had so much more to
learn.

Ryan followed
Casey up the slope and soon all three were crouched down behind the large
boulder. Looking around it, Ryan could see the pedestal and the pylon, which
held the tantalizing red button that would deactivate all the weapons on Charring Mountain. If he could just push that damn button then they would never have to
come up this infernal mountain again.

Casey handed
the energy cannon back to Private Parker. “You’re a better shot with this than
I am,” she explained. Casey took a deep breath and turned to face Ryan.
“Private Rios had the right idea, and I volunteer to do the same thing. Once I
step out onto the summit, the stunners around the pedestal should activate.”
Her eyes focused on Private Parker. “Alexander, don’t miss!”

“I won’t,”
promised Parker, nodding his head solemnly. “I’ll take the stunners out.”

“Casey, wait,”
Ryan said, reaching out his metal arm and touching her shoulder. “I should be
the one doing this, you can press the button.”

“No,” replied Casey,
shaking her head. “You’re the commanding officer of our platoon; in a battle it
will be essential that you survive. It has to be this way.”

Casey tapped
Alexander on the head and then standing up to her full ten-foot height, charged
out onto the summit of Charring Mountain. Instantly, six popup stunners appeared,
four around the pedestal and two twenty meters to the side. Casey went down
almost immediately with a loud scream of anguish as she was hit with multiple
stun beams. She lost consciousness instantly from the intense pain.

Alexander
sighted carefully and calmly blew all six of the offending stunners to oblivion.
When the last one was a pile of smoking wreckage, he looked down, seeing that
his energy cannon still had a two percent charge.

“Stay here,” ordered
Ryan as he stood up. “If any more popups make an appearance take them out and
then go push that damn red button!”

“Yes, Sir!”
responded Alexander as he watched Ryan stand up and step out onto the summit.

Ryan walked determinedly
toward the pedestal expecting to be hit by a stun beam at any moment. With surprise,
he stepped up onto the pedestal, and then after looking around for a brief moment,
he pressed firmly down on the red button. Instantly, a voice came over the com
channel in his suit.

“Congratulations,
Lieutenant Nelson,” Major Winfrey said. “You have set a new record for
conquering Charring Mountain. Your soldiers are now officially Space Marines!”

Ryan allowed
himself to relax and breathe out a long sigh of relief. They would be celebrating
in the barracks tonight. He looked around at Corporal Hunter’s still form and
Private Parker, who was stepping out onto the summit carrying his energy cannon.
He was proud of his people; they'd done what was necessary to conquer Charring.

-

Major Winfrey
looked over at Major Stevens. “Well, there’s your first bunch; are you ready to
start their training?”

“Damn right!”
uttered Mark with a smile. “If they thought Charring was hard, just wait until
they start the training for the new suits. It’ll make Charring look like a
newborn kitten.”

Dylan nodded.
He knew that tonight Second Lieutenant Nelson’s people would be celebrating and
feeling exhilarated over their victory. He would let them have their enjoyment;
they deserved it. In a day or two, he would inform them of the new hell they
had just qualified for.

Newly promoted
Admiral Karl Adamson stood in front of the mirror in his personal quarters admiring
the admiral stars on his shoulders. He breathed out a long sigh as he realized
just what the promotion meant. Fleet Admiral Kelly had informed him he was
being promoted and placed in command of the newly created Seventh Fleet. He was
due to meet with Colonel Nelson and Marken shortly to discuss the mission his
newly formed fleet would be going on. Knowing Nelson and Marken as he did,
Adamson was certain the mission would be full of danger and intrigue.

Straightening
his shoulders, he exited his quarters and took the turbo lift, which would take
him to the command level. Moments later, he stepped out and walked the short
distance to the Command Center hatch. The two marines on duty looked at the
newly promoted admiral, their eyes widening upon seeing the stars on his shoulders.
Adamson was immediately allowed entry as one of the marines stepped inside.

“Admiral on
deck!” the marine’s powerful voice rang out.

Everyone
jumped up from their consoles and turned, coming to rigid attention. Several
allowed satisfied smiles to spread across their faces when they saw who the admiral
was.

“As you were,”
spoke Adamson, feeling a little embarrassed by the crew’s response. He had
known most of these people for years.

“Congratulations,”
spoke Sandra Shepherd, the executive officer. Sandra had transferred over from
the battlecruiser Phoenix several years back.

Adamson
grinned as he reached into his shirt pocket and took out two small silver stars,
which designated the rank of a ship commander. “You’re the new commander of the
Constellation, Sandra,” Adamson said as he handed her the two stars with a
twinkle in his eyes.

Sandra’s eyes
widened as she took the two small stars and gazed at them in awe. She'd always
dreamed of becoming a ship commander. It was one of the reasons she had transferred
over to the Constellation.

“I will treat
her right, Sir,” Sandra answered as she smartly saluted.

“Admiral,” Colonel
Nelson and Marken have arrived and are being escorted to briefing room two,”
Lieutenant Emma Travers reported from Communications.

“Commander
Shepherd, if you will accompany me, maybe we can find out exactly what’s going
on and why Fleet Admiral Kelly has formed Seventh Fleet.”

“Seventh
Fleet?” asked Shepherd, looking confused. “I thought we only had six active
fleets.”

“I’ve been
given command of the new Seventh Fleet, which will consist of the
Constellation, the three new battlecruisers nearly completed here in the spacedock,
sixteen light cruisers, and two hundred assault ships.”

“Two hundred
assault ships?” uttered Sandra, coming to a stop in the corridor and looking
worriedly at the newly promoted admiral. “Are we going into combat?”

“I suspect
so,” Adamson replied in an even voice. “We’ll know more when we speak with
Colonel Nelson and Marken.”

-

Wade watched
as newly promoted Admiral Adamson and Commander Shepherd stepped into the briefing
room. He'd suspected that Adamson would promote Shepherd to commander. She was
an excellent choice and Wade had full confidence in her abilities.

“Congratulations
on the promotion,” Wade said, rising to his feet and walking over to shake
Adamson’s hand.

“It’s well
deserved after everything you've done for my people,” added Marken as he also
stood.

Marken was a
Kivean. His skin was a light red and his arms were slightly longer than a
normal Human’s with long, narrow fingers on his hands. His face was humanoid
with slender eyes, no eyebrows, a wide nose, and small ears. His most unusual feature
was there was no hair at all upon his head.

As they all
sat down, Adamson and Shepherd turned their attention to Colonel Nelson,
curious to hear what he had to say about this mission they were going on. From
the size of Seventh Fleet, they strongly suspected they were going deep into
Kleese controlled space.

“I don’t know
if Fleet Admiral Kelly told you or not, but we strongly suspect the
Kleese-Strell war is coming to a close if it isn’t over with already.”

“I don’t
suppose we got lucky and the Strell won?” asked Adamson, arching his eyebrow.

“No,” replied Wade,
shaking his head. “From all reports, the Kleese had the Strell outnumbered and
outgunned. The Strell weren’t expecting an attack from the Kleese and suffered
some serious losses at the beginning of the war, which seriously hampered their
ability to defend their Empire.”

“So, where
does that put us?”

“Seventh Fleet
is going to escort several civilian diplomatic ships that will be traveling to
some of the nearer nonaligned worlds to try to talk them into joining into an
alliance with us,” Wade explained. “We’ll also be taking both of the marine
transports as well as several supply ships.”

“We’re taking
two hundred assault ships,” mentioned Commander Shepherd, gazing intently at
Colonel Nelson. Nelson had a reputation of always being where the heaviest
fighting was. “Why so many?”

“Yes, we’re
taking a large complement of assault ships,” Wade confirmed. “If the Kleese
launch an attack on any of the nonaligned worlds we’re seeking to add to the Alliance, we’ll aid in their defense as a gesture to encourage all the nonaligned worlds in
our sector of space to join.”

“If we’re
talking about fighting the Zaltule, we could be looking at some serious ship losses,”
Adamson said his eyes narrowing sharply. “Those three kilometer disk ships of
theirs are built for war and will not be easy to destroy.”

His new fleet
might not last long against the dangerous warrior caste of the Kleese. He well
recalled what had happened when just six of the Zaltule warships attacked the
solar system six years back.

“It will
probably be the Zaltule you'll face if there is indeed combat,” Marken spoke in
a calm voice. “The Zaltule are the warriors of the Kleese and seem to have
taken over the combat role for the Empire. During the time the Kleese were
fighting the Strell, there has been very little expansion of their Empire in other
areas.”

“From our last
combat with these Zaltule ships, our ship weapons and theirs are pretty evenly
matched,” Commander Shepherd said her eyes narrowing in thought. It worried her
since they would only have four battlecruisers in the fleet.

“That may be
true, but we’ve come to believe the six Zaltule ships that attacked our solar
system were not being operated by the warrior caste but regular members of the
Kleese race,” Wade informed her. “We may not have won if the ships had been
commanded by the Zaltule.”

“Which means
we’re going to have a major problem on our hands if we have to fight Zaltule
battlecruisers,” Adamson reiterated with a frown.

“We may have a
solution to that,” Marken responded as he reached down in front of him and
picked up two red folders. He handed one each to Admiral Adamson and Commander
Shepherd.

“This is a new
sublight missile developed by the Kivean scientists,” Wade explained as Adamson
and Shepherd opened up the folders and began looking through the contents.

“It’s slightly
larger than a normal sublight missile and contains six antimatter warheads,”
Marken explained. “Each warhead has a yield of twenty megatons and can be
independently targeted.”

“How did you
get that many warheads inside the missile?” Commander Shepherd asked as she studied
the design specs. “It doesn’t seem to be that much larger than our standard
sublight missiles.”

“Miniaturization,”
Marken explained. “Our Kivean science plus some of the information from the
computer drive furnished by the nonaligned worlds allowed us to drastically
reduce the size of some of the missile’s components without compromising the integrity
of the missile. The three new battlecruisers and the sixteen light cruisers have
all had their missile tubes modified to handle this new weapon.”

“In addition,
engineers will shortly begin upgrading the missile tubes on the Constellation,”
Wade added. He had already spoken to Ethan Hall about this and Ethan had
assured him it could be done very quickly.

“When do we
leave?” asked Adamson, leaning back and taking a deep breath. He had a feeling
this was going to be a long and complicated mission. They always were when
Nelson and Marken were involved.

“Four weeks,”
Wade answered. “You have that much time to get your fleet ready for combat.” He
leaned forward with a serious look upon his face. “We’re going to be facing off
against the Zaltule. Our new missiles should give us an advantage in the first engagement;
we need to make sure it’s decisive so we can buy the time we need to organize
the Alliance.”

“If any of the
nonaligned worlds will join,” interjected Shepherd with a worried frown. She
wasn’t certain any of the nonaligned worlds would make such a commitment.

“Surely with
the threat the Kleese now represent they’ll be more inclined to join the Alliance,” suggested Adamson, glancing over at Sandra.

“They’ve
refused to so far,” Sandra was quick to point out. “Why should they change
their minds now?”

“If they don’t
join then the Zaltule will over run those systems and add them to the Empire,”
Wade declared his eyes flashing with deadly seriousness. “We know some are
supportive of our cause due to the computer drive they provided us as well as
the warning about the impending attack from the Kleese they gave us years back.
Some of those races will surely see the wisdom of joining us. That’s why we’re
taking the fleet and making this final push to form the Alliance.”

“We can only
hope they see the wisdom of joining,” Adamson said, drawing in a sharp breath.
“How long will it take to make the modifications to the Constellation’s missile
tubes?”

“Six days,”
Marken answered. “A group of Kivean and Human technicians will start on it
later today.”

“Ethan Hall
told me earlier that the three new battlecruisers will be ready for their
trials in three more days,” Wade added. “Their crews have already been selected
and gone through extensive training.”

“Most of those
will be newbies,” groaned Shepherd, shaking her head.

“We managed to
transfer some experienced people also,” Wade informed them. “Can you get them knocked
into shape in time for us to leave in four weeks?”

“It’ll be
tough, but we can do additional training on the way to the nonaligned worlds,” Adamson
answered as he thought over what would be needed to bring the crews up to
acceptable operational levels. “I’ll schedule a meeting with their commanding
officers for later today.”

-

Later, Marken,
Beth, and Wade toured the cloning facility. Over the years, it had grown into a
massive complex as slightly over one hundred thousand clones a year were now
being produced and imprinted with basic Human knowledge. It was also heavily
guarded and admittance was restricted to authorized personnel only.

They were in
an observation room where they could watch the new clones being awakened.
Medical personnel, both Human and Kivean were in the room below dressed in
sterile white gowns as they helped the new Humans take their first steps.

A dozen
cloning chambers had been brought into the room and were in the process of
being opened. Each chamber contained a fully grown clone and was filled with a
gas that resembled a heavy fog. The gas was pumped out and then the top of the
chamber was opened.

“They look so
helpless,” Beth murmured as she watched a female take her first hesitant steps and
then look at the attending nurse with a pleased and excited look.

“I hate that
they miss out on their childhood,” added Wade, thinking about all of those
childhood memories he treasured. They had helped to make and mold him into the
person he was today. The clones missed out on that important aspect of life.

“We implant
some basic memories about growing up,” Marken informed them as he watched the
awakening process going on in the room. He had lost track of how many
awakenings he had attended over the last six years. Each day, nearly two hundred
and seventy-five clones were awakened and processed.

“What’s the
failure rate?” asked Wade, shifting his gaze to Marken. He knew that not all awakenings
were successful.

“Less than two
percent,” Marken answered in a sad voice. “For some reason, a small percentage
of the clones won’t take the imprinting process and their bodies fail as soon
as we attempt the awakening process. Harnett is working on a solution, but
she’s still mystified by what’s causing the problem.”

Wade nodded,
it was not common knowledge that nearly two thousand clones a year never awoke
and their bodies had to be disposed of. If it were, the public outcry against
the clones would only increase.

“What is the
procedure once a clone has been successfully awakened?” Beth asked curiously,
looking over at Marken. This was the first time she'd been allowed to watch the
awakening process.

“For the first
month, the clones stay with surrogate Human parents who help them with their
emotional development. After the first month, they’re transferred to a dormitory
with twenty other clones where they’re closely monitored. They go through
classes taught by Humans and their Human surrogate parents stop by periodically
to check up on them. After six months, they begin specialized schooling to
prepare them to enter either the Academy here on Vesta or the fleet training
facility on the Moon.”

“From the time
they’re awakened, how long before they’re fully capable of taking over their military
responsibilities?” Beth asked.

“Five years,”
Marken answered, promptly.

“How many
decide not to join the military?”