The Andromeda Mission (The Human Chronicles Book 19)

by T. R. Harris

  Adam brought the Najmah Fayd to a stop relative to the bulk of the alien ship, hoping to avoid any more crucial equipment pods being torn from the hull. The deafening screeching sound stopped, with the Najmah Fayd now held firmly within the ragged arms of the dead Nuorean warship.

  There was a long, tense silence on the bridge, as the crew soaked in the reality of their situation.

  Riyad broke the silence. “Where are we?”

  Sherri laughed. “Besides stuck inside an alien warship, I haven’t a clue. We’re in an alien galaxy with no navigational charts for the local terrain.”

  Adam had the exterior cameras scanning the carcass of the Nuorean ship. “I wonder if their nav computer survived?” he asked rhetorically. Looking at the utter destruction displayed on the forward viewscreen, he didn’t hold out much hope.

  “We can take a look, fearless leader,” Riyad said, “as we cut ourselves loose. But we should definitely have a Plan B.”

  Adam switched the screen view to that of a graphic of the local area out as far as their sensors could reach. They’d landed just outside the diffused boundary of the gigantic galaxy. There were several star systems nearby, but nothing like the density they would find farther in. Their scans provided only rudimentary information.

  Fortunately, they did have a bead on where they’d just left—the transit zone surrounded by five thousand alien warcraft. They’d jumped fifteen light-years out into the void between galaxies. It was far enough to avoid detection from the TZ, but still too close for comfort.

  Adam unbuckled his shoulder restraints. “All right, first things first,” he began. “We have to get free of the loving arms of our new friend. Coop, you’re the mechanic; take Riyad and Kaylor. And see if there is an intact navigation computer aboard. Sherri, Jym and I will stay here and see if we can make any sense out of the local scans. My friends, our Andromeda Mission is now officially underway!”

  Adam was a little disappointed when there came no return cheers of enthusiasm and or a single ‘hooyah’ war cry. Instead, the crew simply unbuckled—and dejectedly—went off to perform their appointed tasks.

  Chapter 3

  An estimated seventy-four percent of Nuoreans don’t live on the planet Nuor. A thousand years before—as their population grew—they commandeered six worlds close to the Nuorean system and moved the bulk of the population to them. With a whole galaxy at their disposal, the race never worried about overpopulation, or even the lack of natural resources. They simply took what they needed.

  Now with a population of over one hundred billion, the race continued to produce an ample supply of eager players—for both the Andromeda Galaxy and now the Kac.

  The planet Nuor was still the capital of the empire—if the Nuoreans considered their conquests an empire. But they didn’t think like that. They took only what was necessary to sustain their society, while dominating alien planets for raw material and contestants in their immunity challenges. Other than that, these worlds were free to exist, as long as they posed no inherent threat to the Nuoreans.

  Nuor housed the administrative, military and accounting functions of the society, including the residences of the Qualify Masters and the Grand Masters, as well as their security arm, the Third Cadre. The other six worlds were populated by the six main blood-teams, along with dozens of minor teams still in the process of amassing members and points.

  Nuorean society was much like the bulk of advanced life. They lived in mating pairs, had children in the conventional sense and lived in homes and communities. Most had jobs off-planet, and every six days would depart in fleets of shuttles to the various manufacturing worlds in the area. They would serve six-day shifts before returning to their assigned planet and their families. There they would remain for another six days before the next shift change.

  Yet during their days off, Nuoreans did more than just relax with their families and play with their pets. This was a time of training for the games, as well combat in the local arenas. Although they acquired proficiency points at their jobs, it was the points they earned in the games that provided them with the bulk of their wealth. And points were everything to a Nuorean. They determined the type of home they lived in, the mates they acquired and the influence they had in local affairs.

  The combat arenas numbered in the thousands and were scattered across every world. Fourteen broadcast channels televised the matches constantly, since few of the natives had the time to attend live contests unless they had a vested interest in the outcome.

  Most of the challenges were between different blood-teams. This way wealth was transferred from team to team, rather than from within.

  In the distant past, each blood-team had been settled on a particular world, but this caused problems. Challenges were more frequent between team members, and mating within the bloodlines resulted in deformities and other maladies. Four hundred years ago, the worlds were integrated, which solved most of the problems. It was now easier to face challengers from other blood-teams.

  Occasionally aliens where brought to the sub-worlds—as they were called—allowing qualified players to acquire immunity points directly. This category of points was earned only by fighting aliens. Traditional combat only resulted in the transfer of possession points and were never to the death—except accidentally. Immunity challenges were always to the death.

  Immunity points allowed a Nuorean to engage in more competitive challenges without the potential loss of status or possessions, allowing players to seek higher levels without too much inherent risk. But for the common Nuorean, immunity points had become hard to come by recently.

  Only the most-qualified Nuoreans were allowed to face the aliens, not so much for fear of injury, but because of the scarcity of the other-worlders. For thousands of years, the players of Nuor had decimated the populations of the most-worthy races, until now they were managed much like growth crops. And for those Nuoreans who didn’t rate meeting aliens face-to-face, they had to challenge others of their kind with immunity points in their awards package—and win.

  Even so, the aliens brought to the sub-worlds were minor races, offering little challenge. The truly worthy races were reserved for the grand arenas on Nuor.

  There was a hierarchy of combat facilities on Nuor, culminating in the grand center called the Noc Arena. It was named for one of the founding blood-teams, and it was here where the Qualifying and Grand Masters fought—if allowed.

  Nuoreans could only engage in combat challenges between the ages of twenty and eighty. Beyond eighty, a Nuorean would retain whatever position they’d attained—unless another acquired more points to unseat them. Most of the QMs and GMs were beyond challenge years, which meant they would carry these titles with them for the rest of their lives.

  The accumulated points of every living Nuorean was a matter of public record, which is why the Fourth Cadre—the accounting division of the Nuorean government—was so important. There was no disputing the number of points acquired or the resulting leadership of the race. Whoever had the most points was the leader, the highest Grand Master of them all.

  The Qualifying and Grand Masters live on Nuor and given vast estates relative to their status. The QMs had lands equal to ten square miles in size. The Grand Masters ruled over estates one hundred miles square, with the most magnificent views and in the most-temperate climate zones. And no estate was grander than that of Rodoc (1,402) Kallen-Noc, the current leader of the Nuorean race.

  ********

  The breeze filtering in through the open expanse of sliding doors was cool and refreshing, which helped to vent the growing mustiness from the twelve people assembled in the vast dining area. They were seated at a round table, with the most senior of the Nuoreans afforded a view through the opening. The others had their backs to the portal.

  Rodoc had the best view, even though as the estate’s current master he’d seen it countless times before. Still, his guests were impressed. The huge home extended over a steep cliff above a rocky beach severa
l hundred feet below. Beyond was a shimmering sea, reflecting sparkles of yellow and orange from the rapidly setting sun.

  Only the four Grand Masters and two Qualifying Masters in attendance had experienced the view before—with a few exceptions. For the others—the Lead Players and Third Cadre members—this was a unique privilege they were being afforded.

  But this wasn’t a social gathering. It was to discuss an odd event that had occurred only a few hours before.

  A holographic image glowed above the center of the table. Displayed was a cluster of Nuorean warships surrounding a dark grey spacecraft about a fifth the size of a battlecruiser. It was of alien design; oblong with a bulbous nose and tail and two small wings projecting from the aft third of the ship. It was gliding along a row of Nuorean vessels, seemingly with impunity.

  And then it disappeared—along with a battlecruiser close to it tail.

  The attendees had watched the same scene half a dozen times already, at regular speed and in extreme slow motion. The result was always the same. One moment the ship—ships—were there…the next they weren’t.

  “It is some form of stealth covering, cloaking in a manner,” said Third Cadre Commander Bindas (324) Kallen-Noc. “It is beyond our technology—at this time.”

  “But why send just one ship?” asked Qualify Master Dasic (455) Lindon-Ca. “If the Kac has such technology, why are they not employing it against our players even now?”

  “These are challenging questions,” Rodoc said.

  “If I may, Grand Master,” said another of the Third Cadre officers present. He was Morlon (783) Voden-Mor, the highest ranking of his class in attendance. “There could be another explanation.”

  Within Nuorean society there were no status barriers. Any Nuorean was free to speak to any other Nuorean, if respect was offered beforehand. “Please, Morlon, continue.”

  “I have been studying the records from the battle around ND-12 in the Kac. This is where my Third Cadre teammate Azon (1,901) was slayed by the Human Adam Cain.”

  “Yes, I have also viewed the broadcasts that were operational at the time. They are of poor quality, yet they tell the story.”

  “As that relates to this new situation, there was a report of an enemy vessel suddenly appearing above the planet. With a battle taking place in the space beyond, the ground forces were very aware of traffic within their skies. There was no trace of the ship’s approach, just its appearance.”

  “And what did this vessel do upon arrival?” ask the Qualifying Master Dasic.

  “It landed near the arena where Azon was fighting and subsequently evacuated the Humans from the facility.”

  “Including Adam Cain?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  “Could this be the same ship?”

  “It displays the same abilities.”

  “And Adam Cain?” Rodoc asked.

  “That is unknown,” Morlon answered. “Yet it would make sense that the Kac’s greatest player would make a move on our home ground.”

  One of the others at the table laughed. “It is but one ship,” said Grand Master Hant (122) Lindon-Ca. “I hear concern in your voice regarding this threat.”

  Hant was one of the oldest in attendance, and Rodoc noticed a slight frown appear on the face of the Cadre officer following his statement. It almost implied fear on the part of Morlon.

  “It is not concern you hear, Master Hant, but curiosity,” Morlon replied evenly, maintaining his composure. “The players of the Kac operate according to purpose, just as we. Therefore, there must a purpose for this incursion. The fact that the ship is here would indicate so. It could be merely for reconnaissance, or more tactical in nature. It is our challenge to find the true mission of the vessel, whether it be manned by Adam Cain or some other player from the Kac.”

  “Morlon is correct,” said Rodoc. “This single vessel risked much—even with its capacities—to come here. Yet I doubt it is for reconnaissance, otherwise it would not have appeared in the middle of our fleet for all to see and note. So what other purpose does a single ship operating beyond enemy lines serve within a game plan?”

  The question was voiced rhetorically, and the master players in attendance knew the answer as well as Rodoc. Still, they deferred to his position for the reveal.

  “They are on a mission of sabotage, employing a stealth vessel capable of entering areas under strict quarantine. They care not that we know of their presence, because they believe their technology to be superior and unstoppable.”

  “I must concur with them on that point,” said Dasic. “So the next questions become: What is their target and what can we do to stop them?”

  Any number of the guests could answer those questions. They were the most-experienced players of the Nuorean race. Tactics and strategy was their life. Yet, again, they deferred to their leader.

  “Even without an extensive knowledge of our social, military and industrial structure, our opponents would know that our system must be diverse and wide-spread. Even if the alien ship carries some form of super-weapon capable of destroying an entire planet, to eliminate Nuor would do little to stop our activities in the Kac. The only way to do that would be to destroy our ability to reach them.”

  “Yet to reach LP-6, they would have to transition through the LP-5 portal,” said Grand Master Hant, stating the obvious.

  “Exactly,” Rodoc replied. He placed another holographic display above the table. It showed the two galaxies, with the Suponac twice as large as the Kac. In the void between was a pulsating blue dot with a white line connecting the two galaxies. There was another blue dot, halfway between the Suponac and the larger flashing blue dot. A line joined the galaxy with the midpoint station—LP-6.

  “It took two hundred years to reach into the galactic void and build LP-6. We did it in stages, building other generators that would allow us to extend farther out. The LP-5 is our link with LP-6 and its only access.”

  “Then we should shut it down,” Hant said. “Do not allow the aliens even the chance of reaching LP-6. And destroy the Human vessel at the earliest opportunity.”

  There was a nervous silence around the table. Rodoc knew what the others were thinking: Grand Master Hant was growing senile. He had lost his instincts, those that had allowed him to reach such a lofty position within Nuorean society. This happened from time to time. Minds atrophied and memories faded. Rodoc made a mental note to exclude the senior Grand Master from any further strategy sessions. It was no disrespect; if Rodoc ever reached such a point in his life, he would wish others to place him in a comfortable place to live out the remainder of his life without endangering the society.

  “If I may, Grand Master, I might suggest an alternative strategy,” Rodoc said to Hant. “I do not feel LP-6 is in real danger. The obstacles the Human must surmount to reach it would be considerable. Rather, I say we hunt down this intruder and capture their ship. With such cloaking technology, our fleets could move throughout the Kac with impunity. We could achieve so much more with less effort and fewer casualties.”

  No one looked at Hant, except Rodoc. The elderly Grand Master mouthed something silently before nodding. “Yes, that is a much more sensible plan. I defer to you, Rodoc. There is reason you lead. I spoke before considering the best course of action.”

  Rodoc smiled. “That is why we hold such meetings, my friend, to study a challenge from all angles, having heard all options.”

  The sun had set into the black sea, the wondrous lights of the Suponac making their presence known across the sky. Rodoc pushed away from the table.

  “Let us conclude this portion of the planning session. Food will be served on the grand balcony and accommodations made for those not wishing to return to their homes this evening. Discuss details among yourselves. In two days I will come to Indisor and view your various ideas for executing the plan. For now, relax and enjoy the beautiful view.”

  Rodoc met Morlon’s eye. A subliminal message passed between the two. They would meet later. Ther
e was more to discuss.

  ********

  Half of the attendees would be staying over, their bellies filled with the best meal the Nuorean race could provide their most senior leaders. The others would be heading to their own estates or back to the capital city of Indisor. The Third Cadre was headquartered on Nuor; their members had homes in the city. Morlon (783) would be staying at the estate.

  Rodoc was near the railing of the balcony, lost in the soft swish of the waves below and the brilliant glow of the Suponac sweeping across the star-filled sky. Morlon stepped up to him, a drink in each hand. The leader of the Nuorean people took one of the glasses.

  “You have more to say regarding this situation,” Rodoc said quietly. “Speak now; the meeting is thinning out.”

  The Third Cadre officer leaned in closer to his superior. “It has to do with the cloaking feature. I believe it is more.”

  Rodoc frowned. “More? In what way?”

  “My suspicions come from the fate of the trailing cruiser. If the aliens had a simple means of cloaking their presence—and that cloak extended to include the other vessel—how was control of our ship obtained?”

  “Control?”

  “Yes. If our ship became cloaked, it could have easily maneuvered away from the influence. It did not. Add to this, the aliens still had to navigate out from the center of our fleet, all the while with a ship five times their size in tow. Yet we detected no magnetics, no gas residual, no gravity wave signatures—nothing, for either ship. The final point: We lost all communications and transponder signal with our cruiser the moment the alien ship disappeared.”

  “You are suggesting a means of teleportation, similar to our transit portals, yet on a much smaller scale?”

  “I do not know how they do it, yet you are right. The ship wasn’t cloaked—it shifted position in space somehow, and it took our ship with it.”