Immediately, Captain Delmin on the bridge answered. “My General, several large contacts have just appeared at the edges of our screens, closing on Dimloe.” His voice was shrill.
Not again, Riyad thought. He had just got the base on Dimloe settled in. “I’m on my way.”
By the time he entered the bridge, an image of Captain Angar was on the main screen. To the sides of the large screen were two smaller ones, showing numerous bright contacts with trajectory lines trailing out from behind them, with the planet Dimloe in the center. There appeared to be far too many contacts closing on the planet.
“My General,” Angar said, “we’ve counted forty-nine ships closing on the planet.” Angar’s voice was also an octave higher, carrying with it a trace of disbelief.
“That can’t be right,” Riyad scolded. “The Juireans only have sixteen ships in their entire Fringe fleet.”
“It is correct, General. We have visual confirmation on most of them.” Angar was nearing panic.
“Have escape procedures been initiated?”
“Yes, but the contacts are coming in from nearly every direction. Even your scatter technique may not work in this instance.”
Riyad was silent for a moment as he took in the information. So the Juireans have learned, he thought. But where did all these damn ships come from?
“Captain Angar, have all our forces coordinate with my location. We will attempt to penetrate their shield by concentrating our strength on their weakest point.” He then turned to Captain Delmin. “From the strength of the wells, determine where the smallest attacking ship is and plot its location.”
Riyad stared at the screen for several seconds, with nothing happening. Then turning to his captain: “What’s the delay? We don’t have all day!”
Flustered, Captain Delmin looked up from his console. “Any weaknesses are minimal. These ships all appear to be mostly heavy cruisers, not the normal contingent of the Fringe fleet.
Damn, thought Riyad. The fucking Juireans seem to be serious this time. Scanning the closing targets himself on the screen, Riyad spotted a slightly wider gap between the contacts coming out a sector that would be fifty minutes on a clock. He pointed at the sector. “There! Set your course for between these two targets,” he commanded. “Angar, have Jolaa and Hasszk lead the force in their ships. They have the most firepower-”
“General!” Delmin yelled. “I have contacts departing the surface and heading to engage the Juireans!”
He was right. On the screen were several lines emanating from a point on the surface, a couple of dozen of them at least. They appeared to be coming out of the southwestern section of the planet, and their gravity signatures were massive. These were fast and powerful ships. But whose were they?
Riyad’s heart skipped a beat. KLIN! They’re Klin. And right here on Dimloe. And they had been right under his nose all along!
Thinking as quickly as he could, Riyad tried to put this new development into perspective. He couldn’t allow the Juireans to defeat the Klin, at least not until he could glean whatever information regarding Earth’s location as he could from them. In fact, helping the Klin might actually ingratiate him into their favor…
Turning to the large screen and Angar’s image, Riyad spoke: “Change of plans. We’re going to join this battle and assist the contacts leaving the surface.”
He could see the shock on Angar’s face. “We…who?” he stammered.
“Just get our ships off-planet,” Riyad told him. “I’ll coordinate from here.” Angar nervously nodded and cut the link.
Fleet Commander Siegor was surprised to see the two dozen ships bolt into space and form up to confront his vastly superior force. He had at his command some of the most-modern and powerful ships of The Expansion, and manned by mostly-Juirean crews. Believing now that the attackers intended to engage his force, Siegor began to bark orders to concentrate his forces in a region of space forming a corridor between the two moons of Dimloe. The force from the surface appeared to be heading in that direction, which would actually make it easier for his fleet to contain them.
A junior Guard tapped a section of the screen to get his commander’s attention. Another grouping of gravity signatures had just begun to rise from planet. These signatures were much smaller, although numerous. And these, too, appeared to gathering near the corridor.
Quickly assessing this new wrinkle in his plan, Siegor determined that even this added firepower would be inadequate to defeat his force. So with the utmost confidence, Commander Siegor watched as dozens of attack lines grew longer, and all heading for a central point between the two moons of Dimloe.
With the enemies of The Expansion so few these days, major battles, especially in space, were very rare. And in all his years, this was shaping up to be the largest space battle Siegor could remember in his lifetime. His chest swelled with pride as he reveled in the moment. This was what he was bred for! And the fact that the battle was more-than-likely against the mythical Klin, made this moment even more special and unique.
“Charge all weapons,” he commanded. “Prepare for battle.”
David Sidwell watched as the Juirean forces began to consolidate at the entrance to the Minlean Corridor, just as the plan called for. He stood on the bridge of the Fleet Ship Klamath River and smiled. He had been training his crews, with the assistance of 2G’s and their Klin advisors, for almost three years now, and finally the moment was here. He was sure all his fellow Humans would perform as expected, and that the coming battle would be a glorious victory for his fellow expatriate Humans.
Of course, he was still surprised at the suddenness of the call to quarters, even though he had suspected something was up for the past several days.
The 2G’s had been spending more time in muted conversation among themselves, which always made David feel a little nervous and uncomfortable. Even a few Klin had dropped by the base and spoken with Kyle Ross, the leader of the 2G’s on Dimloe; they had also greeted David, respecting his position as senior native-born at the base. But their conversations had not provided any warning regarding the impending Juirean attack. It was just the accumulation of tiny things that made David suspect a coming event of some kind.
Earlier that day, the call had finally arrived, and David sounded the alarm that sent his fleet streaking for open space.
As expected, the Juirean fleet consisted mainly of heavy cruisers, as well as a scattering of smaller light cruisers and two huge bolt platforms; the Klin intelligence had been spot on. Through countless simulations, David knew his ships could withstand all except a direct belly-shot from the bolt platforms, and the individual Juirean ships could be easily outmaneuvered to always maintain the strongest possible defensive posture against their weapons.
He glanced out the side viewports and watched as some of the closest ships to his position began to move away, preparing for battle. It would be the last he would see of them visually until the conclusion of the action. From here on out, they would just be blips on the forward tactical screen of his command bridge. Even though he was confident as to the outcome of the battle, he still felt a sadness and apprehension that this could be last he ever saw of many of his fellow Humans aboard those ships…
David Sidwell had been born and raised in Humbolt County in northern California. A rugged outdoorsman from an early age, he had hunted the redwood forests and fished in the nearby rivers, many of which carried such iconic names as the Eel, the Smith and the Klamath. It was out of respect and admiration for his home, that David named his flagship after his beloved Klamath River, a gesture which only reinforced his drive and determination to make sure his homeworld would survive against the evil Juireans. Although he had come to accept the fact that he would probably never again set foot on Earth, he nevertheless felt no less willingness to sacrifice his life to help preserve her.