Invasion Force (The Human Chronicles Saga Book 21)

by T. R. Harris

  “We can, once we get the ship working.”

  “Using your mutant super brain power, I suppose?” Sherri asked sarcastically. “Your super intelligence didn’t help us on that planet back there. All it did was tell you to go jump off a cliff…and you did.”

  “It saved our lives, sweetheart…if you recall.”

  “You really think you can do it?” Riyad asked sincerely.

  Adam grimaced. “I can’t think of anything else. I can’t do all this on my own—”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence in the rest of us, asshole,” Sherri said.

  “You know what I mean.”

  Sherri gave him a conciliatory smile.

  “So we’re going to steal the Najmah Fayd….” Riyad stated.

  “That’s the plan,” Adam said. Then he frowned. “But if we do—and we get the damn thing working again—can you grant me one little favor?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Can we change the name of the ship to something a little easier to pronounce?”

  Riyad snapped his head back in surprise and indignation. “How dare you suggest that Najmah Fayd is hard to pronounce. It rolls off my tongue like…like it was in my native language.”

  “Good for you,” Sherri spoke up. “But I’m with Adam on this one.”

  “Me too,” added Copernicus.

  The three aliens didn’t care. They spoke the words Star Panther in their native language and the translation bugs did the rest.

  Riyad pursed his lips before nodding. “I seem to be outvoted. Fine, call it the Captain Kangaroo for all I care.”

  “It was thinking more along the lines of—”

  “Don’t tell me…the Enterprise, right?” Sherri interrupted.

  “No, the Defiant…because that’s what we are: defiant and determined.”

  “We have to steal the ship first,” Coop pointed out.

  Adam smiled as he took in the faces around him. “I have no doubt that such a skilled and determined crew as this can pull that off without a hitch.”

  No one cheered at Adam’s feeble attempt to enlist enthusiasm for his plan…while Riyad mumbled: “I kinda liked Najmah Fayd….”

  17

  Seventeen thousand light-years. That was how far the Klin world of Corfer was from Earth, a journey of four-and-a-half months. In the war with the Klin, that was a lifetime for a number races, creatures who had evolved on their homeworlds over millions of years, only to have ninety-nine percent of their population wiped out over a couple of weeks. An estimated fifty worlds or more would be attacked during the transit. Some would be spared, most would not.

  For Adam and his crew, it was an excruciatingly frustrating time. While the seven members of the team essentially sat around twiddling their thumbs, the Klin continued their offensive. And if Robert McCarthy had spoken the truth, the Klin would also destroy the most-heavily populated world of the campaign so far—the planet Bannokfore. It was one of the thirteen ruling planets of the Advisory Council. Its loss would be a shock to the galaxy.

  The only consolation to the Nautilus’ snail’s pace journey through the impossible-to-imagine distances of intergalactic space was that Continual Wormhole technology allowed the team to stay in touch with Formil and Earth. This way Adam could do his part for the war effort, until the time came for him to take it over.

  It came within one vote of the Humans being expelled from the Advisory Council. The fact that most aliens in the galaxy didn’t like Humans came as no surprise to Ambassador Ashton Hill. What did surprise him was the representative who cast the deciding vote. It was the Juirean Overlord Zaxis fe Rendor.

  Hill had most of his belongings already packed and ready for the long journey back to Earth, a trip he didn’t look forward to, but an outcome he welcomed. He was tired of all the aliens he had to deal with, and he missed the familiar warmth and glow from his native sun. The Expansion was in a state of flux, and no one was willing to compromise on anything. The politics were too caustic and the beliefs too ingrained. During the seventeen months he’d been on the Council he couldn’t remember a single time when any of the members changed their minds on a subject, set instead with their initial reaction. That wasn’t how negotiation worked, or how councils were supposed to operate. Sure, consensus was formed and decisions made within the thirteen-member council, but that was simply because a majority expressed their pre-ordained opinions and voted accordingly in the odd-numbered chamber.

  That was why the Juirean’s vote came as a surprise. The pre-ordained position of the Juireans had always been to counter whatever the upstart Humans wanted. It was like that with most of the member worlds—counteracting factions against predicable opponents. Hill had already considered the Juirean as being on the other side. But that wasn’t the case.

  “This is an outrage,” shouted the Criminean Endender Das. “The Humans refuse to assist the Expansion, and therefore there is no reason to keep them on the Council.”

  “We are not refusing to help,” Hill said in his defense. Half his brain wanted to continue the debate; the other half was thinking what a bitch it was going to be having to unpack when the meeting concluded. “We have supplied hundreds of nuclear weapons for the defense of Bannokfore, and to a lesser degree, Silea. And you must remember it was a Human—Adam Cain—who brought us the news of the impending attacks, allowing time for us to prepare a defense.”

  “If Bannokfore is indeed the target of this Klin advisor, this Robert McCarthy—a Human I might add.” The Gacian representative Pinsion—just one name, Pinsion—had voted against Ashton remaining on the Council. He had argued emphatically that Cain’s report was just a diversion on the part of McCarthy, a way to draw precious resources from the real target. Ashton then asked where was the Klin’s real target, since he was so sure it wasn’t Bannokfore? He didn’t have an answer. It was one of those cases where he’d already made up his mind and no amount of facts or logic was going to change it.

  The Bannokfore and Silean reps split their vote. The Bannokfore were pissed that the Humans would not send military ships to defend the planet, or even take over operational command of some of the units on an official basis, conceding the Humans’ talent at war. They did an end run by appointing a Human who was working for them on a contract basis to be the supreme commander of their defense force. The Sileans, on the other hand, had always supported the Human Orion-Cygnus Union, being as close to the border between the two galactic empires as they were. They figured the Humans would come to their rescue should the Klin attack. As it was, the current front was fifteen thousand light-years away from Earth, and Bannokfore was even farther than that. The Humans couldn’t see how this was their fight…at least not yet.

  But that wasn’t the only reason.

  Adam had told the leaders on Earth of Robert McCarthy’s plan to save the planet for himself. At the moment, that seemed a better option than a Klin invasion. No one on the planet believed for a second that the Klin would accept an offer of surrender from the Humans. It would be an all-out slaughter if they ever reached Earth. If McCarthy wanted to take over, at least it would be a Human in control, and not some silver-skinned lunatic alien race.

  Of course, the Council didn’t know this. All they knew was that the Humans were withholding their resources, military might and combat expertise from the Expansion. Although most races resented the Humans, they acknowledged their fighting skills. And fighting skill was what was needed against the Klin.

  But Earth didn’t want to antagonize the Klin—or especially Robert McCarthy—if it could buy them time, or in the worst case, save the population from extinction by falling under McCarthy’s thumb.

  So in a fit of anger, the Council voted to expel the Humans.

  Ashton knew the Juirean Overlord well. He knew how pragmatic the creature was, and how he probably reasoned that keeping the Humans around might make them change their minds about contributing more to the war effort. He also knew what badass military commanders Humans were. E
ven now—in spite of the official line from Earth—a fair number of rogue Human military personnel were chomping at the bit to lead a squad—or a fleet—against the Klin. They may die in the process, but this was what they lived for, if that made sense. And a juicy galactic war was right up their alley.

  “I’m sure all of you know the history of the Klin’s manipulation of the Human race through the use of what were called Second Generation Humans—the 2Gs. McCarthy has never been to Earth. All he knows of his blood race is what he’s been told by the Klin and his murderous father. He’s as much Human as you are, Representative Pinsion.”

  “Then why did not the very accomplished Adam Cain kill him when he was in his presence? Could it be he could not come to kill another Human?”

  Ashton smiled. “Cain has killed plenty of 2G Humans, including Nigel McCarthy, Robert’s father. Believe me, if the opportunity had presented itself, he would have taken it.”

  “This bickering amongst ourselves is non-productive,” said First Corusant U’lac Vision, the titular head of the Council. “The vote had been recorded; Ambassador Hill will remain as a voice for the Human Union.” The Formilians were the Humans staunchest allies on the Council; their vote was never in doubt. “As to the contributions the Humans wish to make in defense of the Expansion, any efforts will be welcome.”

  “We will do what we can, First Corusant,” Ashton said. “And now, what is the status of the defense efforts?”

  Endender Das flexed his lips at the Human, which Ashton knew was a sign of conciliation. “Yes, with other matters,’ said the alien. “Even without the Human ships or operational commanders, a fleet has embarked for Bannokfore, arriving in fourteen standard days. We have dispatched a small fleet for Silea, on the chance Bannokfore was merely a diversion. Each system will be supplied with a several hundred nuclear weapons in the form of mines and missiles. Fleet ships will be instructed to maintain a safe distance of at least five million miles from the black ships—the VN-91s, as they are designated. In the meantime, evacuations are underway on a grand scale, including vital records and historical artifacts. Bannokfore is thirty-eight standard days from the Klin front at maximum deep-well. It does not give us much time, and currently there is panic on the surface, making evacuation operations more difficult. Silea is much farther away, unless the Klin use unknown forces to launch an attack. Let us just hope our evacuation of Bannokfore will not been for nothing.”

  Ashton raised his eyebrows, certain that the Criminean didn’t mean what his last statement inferred. The Human heard it as: It would be a shame to go through all this trouble if the Klin don’t attack. He couldn’t have meant it that way…could he?

  18

  “You have done all you can, Adam,” Arieel said in a losing battle to console the morose Human. “Because of you, millions of Bannokfore will live. Without warning, there would be countless more lost to the Klin.”

  They were in the captain’s cabin and in bed, with Arieel’s silky black hair draped over Adam’s chest. He absently stroked her hair while staring up at the ceiling.

  They had resisted as long as they could before resuming their fifteen-year-long affair, one that had resulted in the impossible birth of their daughter Lila—a mutant of extraordinary power. The chemical bonds that the ancient Aris had programmed into the genes of the Humans and the Formilians had done their job, producing their super being three billions years after the experiment began.

  “It’s just that I feel so helpless. I want to be in the fight.”

  Arieel chuckled. “There will still be plenty of fight for all of us”

  “I should have taken him out when I had the chance.”

  “Robert McCarthy?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “From what I understand, there never was an opportunity, not without risking the life of Sherri.”

  “Yeah, but she would have understood if it meant killing McCarthy.”

  Arieel lifted her head and looked at Adam with a sultry frown. “Surely you are not serious?”

  “No, I’m not…and don’t call me Shirley.”

  The old joke really brought another layer of confusion to Arieel’s beautiful face. He changed the subject with a long, soft kiss. That got her mind off of his odd Human-speak and onto other matters. The other matters distracted them for the next forty-five minutes.

  Exhausted and covered in sweat, the two lovers basked in the afterglow of their passion. “I have said it before,” Arieel breathed. “Your new mutant stamina is extremely welcome. You are now equal to most Formilian males in that regard.”

  Now it was Adam’s turn to frown. “Gee, thanks…I think. But I didn’t know it was a competition.”

  Arieel smiled, a heart-melting, take-your-breath-away smile. “It is very much a competition. Everything is. So please…keep attempting to win. It is certainly worth the effort.”

  The Nautilus was a huge ship, especially when there were only seven people aboard. Although large, it could be crewed easily by the small number. Most of the ship’s bulk was in the form of cargo holds, so if needed, each member of the team had plenty of opportunity to get away from the others for quiet time and contemplation.

  When he wasn’t with Arieel, Adam spent time in one of the airtight lateral cargo holds running along the side of the ship. It was about the size of a basketball court with ceilings over fifty feet high. He worked on his telekinetic skills here, recalling the thrill he felt when he’d soared though the air on Corfer like the real Superman.

  He also remembered how he almost killed three of his crew when he sucked all the air out of the room to lift the cycling module.

  Now he was taking smaller quantities of air and compressing them more to gain the same effect. Through his experiments, he was able to create an invisible sheet of air under his feet, like a futuristic hoverboard. It didn’t take much effort to make one, but it did require balance to stay on. After a couple of weeks he was an expert at riding his air-surfboard, using ancillary side currents to help keep him upright.

  Now this was what having mutant super powers was all about!

  The Nautilus had a habit of breaking down quite often, adding about five days to journey. Eventually, Kaylor had to rebuild the #6 focusing ring cradle from scratch after his plastic battery cover fix stopped working.

  The ship was also traveling above the galactic plane, its gravity-well as deep as possible. They were making good time. They just had a very long way to go.

  19

  Gary Romaine had been born into the military and he fully intended to die in the military. He was forty-one and had seen more action than most Humans in that time. He volunteered for duty on Juir, when the Humans ran things, then stuck around afterwards to take on mercenary work where he could find it. Fortunately, Humans were in high demand at the time, so he was able to stay busy while banking some good coin.

  Recently, however, he was in the habit of entering and exiting the military services of a half-dozen races, splitting his time between legitimate duties and not-so-legitimate capers. At the time of the Klin offensive, he was on the official side of the ledger, serving as a well-paid advisor to the Bannokfore.

  When the news broke that the Klin may be targeting the planet, a wholesale panic erupted, even among the armed forces. The planet had a robust military—mainly a glorified police force—which patrolled the forty-two worlds in the Bannokfore Protectorate. Gary laughed at the name every time he heard it. The planet was a voting member of the Expansion Advisory Council; it didn’t have much to be protected against. In fact Bannokfore was one of the unscrupulous major superpowers in the galaxy that others had to be protected from.

  But Gary was okay with that. The Bannokfore liked to flex their muscle now and then, and the Human got to plan most of their more complicated events. He was able to bark orders and blow things up. What more could a man ask for?

  But now it was serious. By all accounts, the Klin were coming in their black ships and with their killer robots. Estimates show
ed that less than a quarter of the population would have time to evacuate. He also read the intelligence on the Klin war machines and their capabilities. It wasn’t looking good for the Bannokfore.

  To Gary, this seemed like a good time to make a strategic career change. He was thinking about returning to Earth, at least until things cooled down. But then he was offered command of the Bannokfore defense force, both native and Expansion. He would be the head honcho, the conductor of an orchestra nearly a thousand ships strong.

  Seeing that supreme commanders seldom die in major battles, Gary Romaine accepted the promotion.

  The Bannokfore star system was a minefield—literally. It also demonstrated to Gary Romaine how politics played a role in military planning as he struggled to gain the upper hand within his command.

  He’d been against the deploying of mines in a static fashion, but not the politicians. They still didn’t comprehend that the Klin ships actually fed on energy, especially nuclear energy. Also, there were too few of them—mines, that is—and they covered a lot of space the Klin would probably never traverse. As a compromise, Gary was given operational control of all the weapons, allowing him to group them as necessary—if he had the time—and with his finger on the detonator. If a Klin ship did happen to run into one—which was highly unlikely—it would explode. But Gary would be able to cluster them around a VN-91 and detonate them all at once. If five explosions had been enough to drive the Klin away from G-nin Bor, how would they react to fifty or more going off at the same time? He was both anxious—and hesitant—to find out

  This was his strategy: overwhelm the ships with more energy than they could handle. But that meant he had to get enough of the warheads on station before the VN-91 reached its destination. And with three hundred of the mines scattered across a vast expanse of space, it would take time to gather them at specific locations.