Artifact: Rise Of Mankind Book 6
Page 1
Artifact
Rise Of Mankind
Book 6
John Walker
Copyright © 2017 John Walker
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
DISCLAIMER
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This story contains explicit language and violence.
Blurb
Several colonies have been attacked, their populations eradicated and their buildings razed. The culprits belong to an extremist organization, terrorists known only as Orion’s Light. These criminals operate in the same circles as pirates but represent a far more dangerous threat, one of religious zeal and terrifying, military style discipline.
Alliance High Command sends the Behemoth to investigate the attacks, charging them to dispense justice on Orion’s Light and to stop whatever scheme they’re involved in. Armed with the brilliant scientist Durant Vi’Puren, they head out to confront one of the most dangerous adversaries they’ve confronted. For the leader of Orion’s Light may have been one of their own once upon a time and his ambitions could be the domination of all life in the galaxy.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Epilogue
Prologue
Wyan Sor’Trex loved working in the fields. He and the others watched the sunrise every morning from the best vantage their little colony offered. The golden purple rays tickled the horizon then cast yellow-orange rays down on the land, coating the green fields in a luxurious glow. The farmers began to consider the sun’s rise a blessing and gave the moment due reverence.
Dremir’s Hope flourished due to the hardworking citizens and abundance of natural resources. Native wildlife didn’t cause any problems and they were able to carve out not only a decent life but a lucrative one. Trade with other colonies around the planet and even beyond the solar system gave them enough money to contend on the galactic trading ring.
And Wyan’s favorite part of that was he could still live a simple life far from the rigors and toils of kielan society. After his mandatory government service, he felt more than ready to depart the fast paced lifestyle of his people and live somewhere calmer. Dremir’s Hope was still a young colony and as a result, it hadn’t become too high tech.
Once it did, he knew it would follow in the footsteps of other places throughout Alliance space. Cities would eventually come along and with them, off-worlders would seek residence. Businesses would come and even his days of farming would end. It might not happen within his lifetime but he studied such progress in school. Every colony aspired to be great.
Wyan also found many people of his mindset constantly moved. The nomadic lifestyle didn’t appeal to him. He wanted a home, a place he could eventually raise a family. Space travel to the next rigorous, unknown terrain did not appeal to him. No, he’d retire when the big companies took over rather than try to find another berth.
They began to toil, preparing the plot for the next crop they planned. Wyan attended school for agriculture and though he stood side by side with men and women who didn’t truly know their work, he planned it all. His schedule allowed one field to lay fallow while another be used. His education made this place work and he shared his ideas and suggestions with the other colonies around the planet.
By midmorning, his muscles just started complaining about the rigorous activity. Their break was coming soon but until then, they had too much to do to slow down. His mind wandered back to working in the capital and he compared it to his current activity. Always moving forward, always doing something.
The difference there involved being in the city. He recognized colony living still required a lot of activity but the big difference came down to the rewards of a simple schedule. He worked the fields for the first part of his day then spent a few hours in his office going over the crop schedule and ensuring they had all the supplies they needed to be effective farmers.
When he worked in the military, he had fifteen different meetings a day plus a full time job to do. It was untenable and made his hair go grey on the sides. Not a day went by that he enjoyed his work in the capital and he still had nightmares from time to time about some of the worst days.
Someone began shouting from some distance off. Wyan ignored it at first but when the screams drew closer and more insistent, he finally looked up. No one cried out like that on the farm unless someone was dreadfully hurt and injury was a distinct possibility. Wyan handed his rake off to one of the others and met the young man at the edge of the field.
Dria Orn’Evra was no more than sixteen. His mother acted as administrator for the whole colony. She descended from Dremir who founded the place. Dria bent at the waist, unable to speak through his panting. When he finally could communicate, he gestured wildly backward. “Tarren’s Peak was attacked!”
Wyan’s blood ran cold. “Attacked? By what? What are you talking about?”
“Pirates or raiders…something! They came down from the sky and assaulted the colony! We received a distress call which went out to the alliance. Mother told me to gather everyone and get to the shelters because they are likely headed this way!”
“Everyone!” Wyan shouted. “Let’s go! We need to get to the shelters immediately!”
Questions came his way, most of them asking why and what was happening. He informed them as they hustled back to the colony proper. “We should arm ourselves!” Someone said. “If they come here, we’re going to want to shoot back!”
“Good idea,” Wyan replied. “I’m sure they’ve opened the armory. We’ll go there first then get to the shelters. Maybe we’ll be lucky…”
They heard the turbines of a starship far off in the distance. The sound filled Wyan with adrenaline and he knew from experience on the capital they had less than ten minutes before the attackers arrived. “Hurry!” He broke into a sprint, his tired muscles forgotten. Security, the four of them that were there, issued handguns and rifles before pointing them in the direction of the shelter.
Each man and woman made their way there and held up, aiming weapons at the door. Wyan shook. He’d never been in combat before and the thought of firing a gun at another person terrified him. Even during basic training, he’d been terrible with conflict. His instructors accepted his request to be in administration because they believed he would’ve died in combat.
Now I get to find out if that’s true! Why would they come here?
The engines approached and they heard something land outside, not even three hundred yards away. Men’s voices filled the air, speaking a strange language Wyan never heard before. They heard a scream, one of their own and Wyan cursed loudly. “Who did we leave behind? Did we not perform a roll call?”
Before anyone could answer, they heard a gun go off and someone cry out. Three more shots silenced them all as they held their breath, shocked to have witnessed, even only through a wall, the end of a life. What monsters had come to their doorstep? What fie
nds wanted to bring death to their little colony?
Wyan knew in his heart they were about to find out. He pulled out his personal computer and set it to record, hiding it in the back of the room. There, half buried under debris from when they dug the place out, he hoped it might capture something if they all perished at the hands of these scum. He hoped otherwise but realism weighed heavy on his shoulders.
The next twenty minutes would determine one way or another.
***
Pulse blasts annihilated the communications array, turning it into a smoldering ruin after a single pass. Soldiers spilled out of the shuttle, moving swiftly door to door, looking for the colonists in the place called Dremir’s Hope. They didn’t find them immediately but took over the command center, a place attached to the now ruined tower which could’ve sent messages to the buoys orbiting the planet.
From there, these wretches might’ve even warned the alliance but Krilan Ar’Vax ensured the orbital arrays had been taken offline. He understood the protocols of these people, knew their weaknesses as well as their strengths. The colonies they tried to protect held no chance against his well trained, fanatical force. Farmers and engineers could not put up a meaningful fight.
He disembarked the ship last, surveying the small town center as his men looted technology and searched for the inhabitants. No ships had taken off so Krilan knew they were there somewhere. He just needed to find them. One of them would have information he needed and they’d talk regardless of what it took.
Krilan wore his black hair long and tied back in a ponytail. Jade green eyes carried steel in them, an uncompromising glint refusing any mercy or kindness. He remained lean from hard work and a restricted diet. Every man serving him knew he could take them in one on one combat and he reminded them from time to time with duels and practice.
He wore a black uniform with red piping. Black pants matched the top, tucked into tall boots. A pistol rode low on his right leg and a knife rested at the small of his back. Those under his command carried rifles and other technology but he only needed the two small weapons in the vent of close quarters fighting.
Bombs started to go off as the homes were leveled. Such tactics would terrify the hiding cowards further, making them pliable when they were finally located. Krilan turned his gaze toward the fields where they grew their food, wondering if they might’ve tried to make it on foot, to escape into the wilds between colonies.
One of his fighters flew by overhead, sending information back to his wrist mounted computer with an update to their search progress. No civilians were found moving about above ground. They were all in the colony somewhere, keeping a low profile. Perhaps they even set a trap. Krilan issued an order for his people to be cautious.
I doubt these peasants have such foresight in them but if they do, I won’t let my people die to some ridiculous booby trap.
Three gunshots went off and Krilan moved toward the direction. A bleeding corpse sat in the dirt, face down. One of his men stood over him, checking to ensure the colonist was dead. Krilan sighed. Sometimes my men are more loyal than competent. The unarmed fool on the ground did not need to be killed. Not yet.
“Why is this man dead?” Krilan asked.
“My Lord!” The man he knew as Rilas spoke up. “He was running. I took a shot at him and got lucky.”
Krilan’s brows lifted. “I see. Then you fired twice more?”
“He…moved?”
“You realize we’re here to question people, yes? How do you consider yourself lucky when you removed one of our only leads as to the whereabouts of these colonists?”
“Um…” Rilas stood at attention, his expression twisting in worry. “I meant to say…my shot went hight and hit him in the spine. He died instantly.”
“A better report.” Krilan shook his head, crouching beside the body. He checked the man over, rifling his pockets but found nothing. “Keep searching and try not to shoot more unarmed people until we’ve talked to them.”
“Yes, My Lord!”
The zeal in which his people served him worked out quite well but occasionally, they allowed their passion to get the better of them. He had been working on discipline, getting them into line but for the time being, some still acted out of emotion. Eventually, it would stop. They went through much to become ‘better’ soldiers.
Krilan turned again to the fields and looked out over the horizon. Years ago, before he started his army, he grew up in such a place. His family owned property much like what he stood upon. As a child, he remembered running through tall grass, the warmth of sun on his face. He gave it all up for a life in space, one of duty.
And he continued to express his duty as a military man, a representative of a new order come to cleanse the universe in all its decadence and violent glory. Eventually, all would be subjugated into following orders and living in peace but until then, they would wallow in the filth of their false doctrines, ridiculous religions and pathetic militaries.
And when I control our old enemy, my time will come.
“My Lord!” Another soldier, this time Pliarus, shouted. “We’ve found the colonists! They’ve taken refuge in some type of shelter.”
“Very well.” Krilan followed him to a large door set against a rock wall burrowing directly into the ground. His men surrounded the area, their weapons aimed at the portal waiting for orders. He approached, standing to the side to address those within. “Citizens of Dremir’s Hope. My name is Krilan Ar’Vax of the Orion’s Light. We have much to discuss.”
“You murdered our man!” A muffled woman’s voice shouted from the other side. It grated on Krilan’s nerves. Outspoken females needed to be silenced and if the director of this place happened to be of the weaker gender, he would ensure she understood what that meant. “The door is locked and we are well armed! If you attempt to enter, we will kill you!”
“I see,” Krilan replied. “Who am I addressing?”
“Alavia Orn’Evra, director of this settlement!”
“Alavia, let me tell you how this is going to play out. My men are going to plant explosives on this door. We will then park our shuttle directly outside and detonate it. All those within who aren’t killed by the blast will then be annihilated by pulse blasts from our ship. You can fire all you like but your weapons won’t be enough to penetrate our shields.
“Is this the blaze of glory you wish to die in or would you rather speak with us as civilized people might?”
“How do I know you won’t kill us the moment we surrender?”
“You don’t,” Krilan said. “But I think I’ve made it clear what happens if you resist. Take a chance or ensure your end. Those are your choices. You have ten seconds to decide starting now.” He nodded to one of his men who began to install the explosives they promised. The sounds of the magnetics tapping the door would jar the spirits of those within.
The people started to speak loudly as panic gripped the colonists. The director would surrender at any moment. Before even seven seconds passed, she shouted out for them to stop. “We give up! We are dropping our weapons and will relinquish ourselves to your custody but you must not hurt anyone! As I’m sure you’re aware, prisoners have rights!”
“I’m aware,” Krilan replied. “But I don’t trust you. Open the door only partially and begin putting your weapons out. We will then scan the room and if anyone in there is armed, everyone dies. Do you understand?”
“We do.”
“Then proceed.”
The door opened and guns were tossed out. Most of them were ancient, antiques. Krilan’s men collected them, putting each well away from the colonists. When they stopped coming out, one of his men performed a scan and nodded. “They’re clean.” They then opened the door the rest of the way and brought the colonists out with their hands raised above their heads.
Krilan stepped in after they all left and looked around. The shelter was little more than a storage chamber emptied out. They couldn’t have weathered much in there. No food, no
water and only the weapons they brought to defend themselves. This was a place for the truly desperate. He shook his head and returned to look over his prisoners.
Men, women and children were lined up, each bound at the wrists by his men. He looked them over, scanning each face. None of them met his eyes but for a defiant teenager, a young man no more than nineteen at the oldest. “Conscript him. He’s got some spirit.”
“What?” An older woman spoke up. “No! He’s my son! Please, don’t take him! What army are you with? What is this? You can’t just kidnap a man!”
Someone slapped her hard enough to knock her on the ground. Her son charged over to her side, dropping beside her calling out to see if she was alright. Krilan gave him a count of three and looked at one of his soldiers. “I believe I gave an order, did I not?”
Two people grabbed the boy and dragged him over to the shuttle, roughing him up as they went. “Take any other young man as well. None of them will know anything anyway.”
The colonists began to get vocal at that point, shouting at them. Krilan waited until the youngsters were safely aboard before he drew his pistol. The sight of the weapon silenced the others and he paced up and down their rank. “I appreciate you deciding to still your tongues. I’d like to address you all now. I’m looking for something and I want your help to find it.”
“We don’t know anything!” A woman cried. “Why are you doing this?”
“You don’t even know what I’m asking,” Krilan sneered. “You will speak when addressed otherwise, remain silent. I will execute the next person who speaks out of turn. Now, I need a map and it is on this planet. It leads to a monastery far from here with an artifact I need to take custody of. Who here is the custodian of this star chart?”
No one replied. Krilan figured they might not but someone on this rock would. He cocked his weapon to emphasize how serious he was. “Where is Director Orn’Evra?”