Moon Wreck: Fleet Academy (The Slaver Wars) by Weil Raymond L

Author:Weil, Raymond L. [Weil, Raymond L.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Raymond L. Weil
Published: 2013-07-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Commodore Rateif stared moodily out the thick reinforced window of his office at the bustling spaceport below him. His office was in a tall tower that jutted high above the spaceport, giving him a grandiose view. The spaceport was located on a desert planet, and looking out over the countryside, everything was the same. Flat ground with sparse plants and very little water. The Hocklyns had chosen this planet as a forward base for this section of space. For ten years, Commodore Rateif had been in charge of this base and the ships that left weekly on exploration missions. In ten years, they had only found three inhabited worlds to bring into the Hocklyn Slave Empire. New honor and advancement had been slow for his family and himself. Recently the Hocklyn High Council had sent a message implying that if more worlds were not found soon to add to the empire, changes would be forth coming.

“You summoned me, sir?” a grating voice spoke behind him.

Commodore Rateif turned and saw First Leader Shrea of the war cruiser Vengeance. Shrea was dressed in simple dark body armor, which was standard attire for a First Leader of a Hocklyn warship. The skin of the First Leader was a light green, and he had a short darker green crest made of bone cartilage going from the top of his head to the back. His body was powerfully built, and his large, powerful hands were held at his side.

“I have a new mission for you, First Leader,” Rateif spoke, his cold eyes gazing at Shrea. “This area of space seems to be devoid of civilizations for us to add to our empire. We have searched for ten years and found little. Perhaps some stellar incident millennia ago wiped this area of space clean of life.” He knew such things were not unheard of.

“It has been slim pickings,” agreed Shrea, clenching his fist and feeling the short claws on the tips of his fingers bite into his hand. “We have not been given the opportunity to bring as much honor to our families as I had hoped since my task group was assigned to this base.”

“I agree,” Commodore Rateif replied with a slight tilt of his head. “Only three small civilizations and none of them worthy of combat. Honor has been slow to come. However, I have a plan that may change that.”

“What is your plan, Commodore?” Shrea asked with interest, his cold gaze meeting the commodore’s narrow eyes. “We must find honor soon, or we will suffer the consequences for failure.”

“I propose to send your task group on a long distance exploratory mission to the extreme edge of our sector,” explained Rateif, walking over to his desk and pointing at a star map that was spread out. “I want you to take your fleet to this section and begin the search for more worlds to add to the empire.”

“That’s nearly two thousand light years,” commented Shrea, feeling appalled at the distance the commodore was suggesting.

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