A New Beginning

Stardate: 8.11.-1024
Location: Aboard the TIS Ellora, Inner Sol system

Sam Borodin stared at the slowly receding planet of Earth with a mixture of sadness and excitement. The bridge was a hive of activity, but he was so lost in his thoughts that he saw little of what was going on around him.

Outside, the hull of the huge Battleship sized Transport smoothly cut through space on an intercept vector for the nearest jump point. Some distance away, Sam could see a large number of Home Defence ships perched some distance away from the homeworld. Most of the fleet of course was located near Pluto, near the Oort cloud.

The bridge was filled with incessant traffic, as the on-board sensors tirelessly sorted all transmissions and catalogued them according to type, source, and content.

Sam was replaying the last conversation he had with his long-time mentor and boss – Karl Vincent. That look of hope and heart wrenching sadness that he had given when the entry hatch doors closed, thus setting his Grand Plan into motion…the clang of the hatch closing had sounded to Sam like the end of an era - the end of a life he knew.

“Here they come again!!”

The loud announcement broke him out of his self-absorption.

The holographic grid in the center of the bridge gave meaning to the words. Far away, at the edge of the system, red dots were appearing rapidly. Several hundreds of them, each one representing another of the dreaded Antaran Drone ships (fully automated Battleships armed to their gills with one-shot Missile & Torpedo Launchers). If past records were anything to go by, they would launch all their weapons and turn tail and run…so that they could re-arm and come back.

As he and the crew watched in morbid fascination, white dots appeared from the enemy ships as well as from the large cluster of blue dots, which signified the presence of the much reduced remainder of the defending Imperial fleet, huge shielded and armoured Capital-Ship-Killer missiles and Plasma torpedoes…and many thousands of them…as well as thousands of yellow dots, representing Fighters scrambled from the Imperial ships to intercept the incoming bogeys.

Green, blue, purple and white lines started appearing, showing that the ships and Fighters had started firing at the missiles. Hundreds of the white dots blinked out of existence, but most still remained. Yet more fire and the number of dots was reduced again…and again…and then the white dots screamed past the blue dots and started heading towards…Earth!!!

For a moment everyone was stunned. For the first time in the last five thousand years Sol’s defences had been breached. After five years of continuous attacks, and after losing thousands of ships, the Antarans had finally managed to pierce what had long been considered as the galaxy’s strongest fortress defence.

Out in space…

The defending Home Guard ships accelerated ahead at full thrust, their weapons reaching out and exploding more of the incoming missiles and torpedoes. Again and again…and then the remaining missile wave swept past them. The Fighters from these ships managed to take out several more. Of the more than 10,000 weapons fired, barely 2,000 remained, but now only the Orbital and Planetary Defences were left.

The string of 20 massive Orbitals which ringed Earth, as well as Planetary Beam and Missile Defences acquired the incoming missiles and opened fire. Fighters scrambled from the Orbitals and Planetary Fighter Bases fired their afterburners and headed for the incoming weapons.

The 502 surviving missiles and torpedoes headed had almost reached their target – the gigantic Planet Utopia shipyard in orbit of Earth…

The Shipyard Defence System managed to claim 40 more of the missiles and torpedoes. 20 more were fooled by the intense jamming. The remaining weapons homed in and slammed with incredible force into the shipyard.

The Planet Utopia orbital structure was massive, stretching for more than 200 kilometers…a wonder of shipbuilding and construction, packing enough weaponry, armour and shields to beat off attacks by even an entire squadron of Antaran Super Dreadnaughts. But despite its massive size and power the station could not take the simultaneous impact of 442 Capital-Ship-Killer missiles and Plasma torpedoes and still remain in one piece.

The power core was breached and a few seconds later an incredible explosion lit up the view screen of all ships in the system. It was as if for a few moments a second sun had been created. All of the more than 5 million personnel in the shipyard, as well as 10 ships (9 Dreadnaught class ships undergoing repairs and a massive Titan, which had been in the final stages of commissioning) were vaporized instantly. The resultant chain-reaction and shockwave spread out, destroying almost a dozen nearby Home Guard Battleships, and damaging several others. Then with almost deliberate slowness, the fiery remainders of the giant shipyard started falling towards the surface of Earth.

Time froze as the crew of the Ellora, and all other manned ships, simply watched the horrific sight…numb…not able to accept what they had just seen.

In the shock of the moment, the destruction of almost the whole 500-ship Drone fleet, by the missiles, torpedoes and Fighters launched by the Imperial fleet, went virtually unnoticed.

The incident had cast a very sobering effect upon the whole crew. People tried to desperately concentrate on their tasks, trying to block out what they had just witnessed.

Already passive sensors on board the Ellora were picking up news reports from the sub-space ether. Although most of the debris had been incinerated by the atmosphere or had fallen into the oceans, some had survived and had crashed into densely populated residential areas in what had earlier been called the North American continent. Apparently one had also impacted upon the capital city of Acropolis, which contained the official government machinery, which controlled the Terran Empire. It was too early to guess the actual casualty figures, but it would easily be in the range of hundreds of millions. More deaths…

As the Ellora headed on towards the jump point, it seemed to Sam Borodin that they were inextricably being pushed into a path of chaos. A path leading to an uncertain future, where the future of humanity rested solely on their group.

And as the leader of the expedition, it was on the shoulders of Sam Borodin that this future lay.

The Antaran Dark Age was coming…

And the New Age of Man was dawning...

The Beginning of the End

Stardate 21.5.-1023
Location: Sol system, Earth, somewhere in downtown Acropolis

 Karl Vincent was nervous. Even with his cloak shielding and his near anonymity in a dark, and very rarely frequented corner of Shantytown (a little known shady frontier district of the Terran capital city – Acropolis), he felt nervous. Not even the special compact model Improved Blaster he had hidden in the folds of the robe he was wearing, or the Personal Absorption shield did anything to help alleviate his nervousness.

As the Chief of the Imperial Security Division (one of the galaxy’s most efficient and feared intelligence services), he had conducted and participated in dozens upon dozens of secret rendezvous and brush-pasts and clandestine meetings, in the most hazardous and distant places in the galaxy. No…it was not the actual real physical danger, which made him nervous. It was the critical nature of his mission – the fact that the whole future of humanity, as they knew it, rested on the success of this mission. If it did not succeed…

His musings were cut short as a whooshing sound entered his consciousness. A few seconds later, a decrepit looking hover-car landed right next to him, almost on the pavement. The driver of the car hopped out, and with a curse went to check the repulsorlifts, which seemed to be giving problems. From the back, a tall man, with a hood thrown over his face also got out. Taking the cue, Vincent rushed into the back compartment through the opened door. A few minutes later, the driver got back into the car, and so did the tall man.

As the repulsorlifts fired silently, the car regained its hover and started moving. Inside, as the outer panels of the passenger compartment turned opaque, the Spymaster de-activated his cloaking device and revealed himself.

The tall man, better known to all as the Imperial First Minister Grosvenor, looked at him warily…

“Is this car secure?”

Vincent smiled…

The car was of course…a Service Car…one of many. Even though it looked decrepit…inside it was as packed with gadgetry as even possibly the Emperor’s car itself. With a special duotronic shield, that would repel even the heaviest small-arms fire, and a static field, that would prevent eavesdropping from even the most sophisticated listening devices, this car was as close as possible to a mobile command center.

“Of course. Did everything go off well? Nobody suspected anything did they?”

The First Minister sighed…

“Nowadays...everybody suspects everything. And especially as First Minister, they suspect me of a whole list of things – from planning an assassination of our loyal emperor to plotting with the Antarans…but yes…it went off smoothly. I daresay that the Imperial Guard is still tailing that car with my clone in it!! So…what did you want to see me about? Why all the secrecy?”

“The secrecy – well that’s no secret! If anybody sees the First Minister and the Security Head talking…I shudder to think of the conspiracy theories they’ll start cooking up. And also, the whole basis of my plan is secrecy.”

The First Minister frowned suspiciously…

“What plan?”

“Yes…a plan…a plan for rebuilding the empire after the destruction which will be caused by the Antaran invasion.”

That stopped the First Minister in his tracks.

“Then you are certain that the Empire will fall…despite the fact that we have managed to successfully hold off the Antarans from our system and destroy their drone ships by the hundreds…despite the fact that still almost three-fourths of the Terran fleet survives, and more and more ships are pouring in from our allies every day…despite the fact that our production facilities are still intact…and despite the “superweapon” that they are constructing in Mars? You are talking near the border of treason, my friend.”

Vincent made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

“So electro-dissolve me! Oh please First Minister…lets leave all that drivel for the masses. You know as well as I do that all this is just propaganda…our fleets are getting worn down daily by the incessant attacks by the Antaran drones…and so is our populace. Yes, we keep destroying their drone ships by the hundreds, but every time they do manage to destroy more and more of our valuable and not-so-easily replaceable ships and in so doing deplete our defences just that little more. The gaps in our defences are growing with each passing day. Yes, our fleet is still largely intact, but they are beginning to run short on resources. Yes our production facilities are still mostly operational, but we are running short on raw materials…and time. Once the Antarans start focusing their attention on us, how long do you think we will be able to hold out? One system…against an entire sector? Our weakened and resource-crippled fleet against the reinforced Great Black fleet? Even the so called “Superweapon” of Mars is largely in the experimental stage…chances are that they will not become operational in time…or the Antarans will come to know of it…and will concentrate on attacking it until it is destroyed. Oh sure…we will give them the fight of their lives…but in the end…“

Another tired sigh from the First Minister…

“I know…I know Vincent…I know the predicament we are in. But what can we do about it? Even our own populace is getting restless, and the air of defeat is beginning to permeate everywhere. To put it bluntly…in our mind…we have already been defeated.”

“Then hear me out…please. I have racked my brains and that of my staff continuously…and all I could come up with…the only plan worth considering…is the plan I have.”

“Spill it, then. What is your “magic” solution to this incurable problem?”

“Let us first see the constants in the equation. We will eventually lose, and the Antarans will win. Our Grand Empire will fall. Taking that as given, how do we ensure that humanity survives? How do we rebuild the empire from the anarchy post invasion? The answer is of course obvious…”

“And that is…”

“To create an organization that will watch over humanity during the coming “Dark Age” if I may call it that. A sort of guiding hand…”

“A rebel underground you mean? For Sol’s sake man…of course there will be rebellion. Of course there will be sabotage and assassinations and subversions. That is but natural. But do you mean to say…THAT is your Grand Plan? To form a rebel group? Do you seriously think that you will be able to get the Antarans to just get up and go off, because of a little unrest…a few bombings…a few ships getting sabotaged? Do you think they won’t retaliate? Going by their past record they will most probably eliminate whole worlds just to serve as a warning…I don’t even know why I am wasting my time hearing this. I should be with the Emperor, helping him prepare his Admirals for the coming invasion…”

Vincent held up his hands in a placating gesture…

“Please, First Minister…calm down, and hear me out. Tell me, have you ever heard of a person called Isaac Asimov?”

“Who in Sol’s name is he? Never heard of him.”

“He was apparently one of the most famous and respected Science Fiction writers of his age – the late Pre-Space Age era. One of his most popular series was called the Foundation series. Copies of it can still be found in holo-reader format in the Great Library…more that 5,000 years after he died.”

“And what does any of this have to do with the impending Antaran crisis?”

“In his books, he had written of an alternate universe – in which a grand human Stellar Empire, spanning the entire galaxy, was slowly decaying…collapsing under its own weight. There was one man, called Hari Seldon, who had the foresight to see the writing on the wall. He had developed a science called Psychohistory, whereby he could roughly predict the course future events might take, based on mathematical calculations. Using this science, he was convinced that the Empire would soon crumble. And after that…there would be thousands of years of anarchy. But he had a plan…which, if it worked…would reduce the period of anarchy between destruction of the empire and its re-birth from 30,000 years to a single millennia.”

Despite his agitation, the First Minister was getting interested again…

“And how did he do that?”

“He set up two Foundations – one on a remote planet called Terminus, at the edge of the universe, and the other on Trantor…the capital of the Empire. The First Foundation was well known to the rest of the galaxy, and it was planned that, using their technological superiority, as well as other means, it would eventually form the Second Empire. On the other hand, the Second Foundation would remain hidden…providing a helping hand…by using their impressive telepathic abilities. They were the real brain behind the whole thing.”

“You mean…”

“Yes…we will set up not one…but two organizations. The first, well hidden though it will be, will concentrate on covert operations against the Antarans – using disruptive measures to throw the Antarans off balance. Despite the terrible destruction wrought by the Black fleet, we still have several contacts scattered throughout the sector. We can use them to form a sector-wide resistance movement…one that will aim to save as many people from the Antarans as possible…and as secretively as possible. Of course, there is a high probability that the Antarans will eventually expose the organization…and they will of course retaliate. But there will be a SECOND organization – totally invisible – dormant – while all attention will be drawn to the first organization. The Antarans will think that they have identified the threat and dealt with it. But this second organization will still exist…and so will their goal. This organization will watch over the remnants of our civilization…and will serve as a silent guardian of our people…specially those who manage to escape from the Antaran clutches. One day the Antaran Hegemony will crumble, and this organization will work subtly, behind the scenes, gently hastening its fall. And when this happens, the members of this organization will rise up, and take control of the remaining human population. They will then lay the foundations for the new Empire – a more long lasting Empire. And they will still be there…in the background…always providing that silent invisible guiding hand…”

“Using psychohistory?”

“No…unfortunately despite all our advanced technology…and thousands of years of evolution…we have no science which is even close to resembling this “Psychohistory.” But we do have one thing we can use - common sense and good judgment. Even if you see the Antarans…secrecy was their biggest weapon. As is well known now, after their defeat at Betelguese they held back…silently regrouped…and then once they had built up their strength again…they struck back. It is time we used their own strategy against them.”

“And this will take…”

“A very long time. At best - a thousand years. If we try to hasten the process, it will only backfire. But if it is successful…a long shot I know…but if it is…it will enable us to get us back on our feet faster…otherwise we may very well…simply become extinct.”

The First Minister sat for a long while…lost in thought.

Finally…as if waking up from a dream…he looked up…blinked…and said…

“And…what would you need to make this happen?”

“A couple of specially modified ships, with which we will be able to clandestinely re-locate the select group of men and women to their chosen destinations. Also, we will need tacit support from as many ships as you can spare…just to make sure we don’t run into any trouble with any patrolling Antaran ships. Of course, these ships must be there at the proper place…and time…by “accident”…so that the Antarans won’t suspect anything amiss…”

“SHIPS?!!! You mean you want ships…when you yourself have admitted that we are in a very perilous situation…when we need every last ship…”

“Come come…First Minister…I just ask for two “unarmed” ships…large freighters will also do…surely two such ships will not be so vital to our defense…”

“And what of “the support” you are talking about?”

“A single detachment of Dreadnaughts will do…just enough to engage and delay any attackers…giving our transports enough time to escape.”

“An entire detachment?? You must be mad!!”

“And how will a single detachment matter when we go up against the Great Black Fleet? Would you put this mission…which is much more vital to the long term welfare of the human race…in jeopardy…only to get moral comfort from a couple of extra warships…when even the whole mighty Imperial Fleet…still consisting of more than two thousand ships will not be able to beat back the Antarans?”

“And who will command the expedition? You, I presume?”

“Of course not. Even though I have tried to maintain a low profile…my position…will not allow me to disappear so to speak. The Antarans know about me…and they will comb heaven and earth until they find me. No…even if I wanted to…I couldn’t go. And I don’t want to…I am too old…too tired. This game is for younger blood…somebody who will have fresh faculties and energy…”

“You have such a person in mind?”

“Yes…I have in fact selected the person.”

“And he is…”

“I am sorry, but it will be better for us all if I didn’t reveal his identity.”

Silence reigned supreme…

Finally Vincent reluctantly broke the silence…

“This is where I get off. The plan now depends on you, Sire…the future of the Empire depends on you…please do inform me of your decision at the earliest…you know how to reach me.”

As the car slowed, and finally stopped…coming to rest on the road…the old Spymaster looked back one last time…

“…And one more thing First Minister. We need to act fast. Every day we delay…increases the chance that the Antarans will encircle the Sol system…and we will then not be able to break the blockade…”

And then the door opened…and he was gone…disappearing in the darkness of a street corner…leaving the First Minister virtually alone …with his thoughts…

A Brief Introduction

A very short story featuring a dark alternative future, based on another of my Master of Orion III games. Featuring one of my favourite SF authors - Asimov!

Simply put...it is the Beginning of the End