The Pike Chronicles: Books 5-8 (Pike Chronicles Space Opera Book 2)

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The Pike Chronicles: Books 5-8 (Pike Chronicles Space Opera Book 2) Page 1

by G. P. Hudson




  Books 5-8

  G.P. Hudson

  © 2018

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  The Pike Chronicles:

  Sol Shall Rise – Book 1 of The Pike Chronicles

  Prevail – Book 2 of The Pike Chronicles

  Ronin – Book 3 of The Pike Chronicles

  Ghost Fleet – Book 4 of The Pike Chronicles

  Interstellar War – Book 5 of The Pike Chronicles

  Vanquish – Book 6 of The Pike Chronicles

  Galactic Empire – Book 7 of The Pike Chronicles

  Armada – Book 8 of The Pike Chronicles

  Fall of the Terran Empire:

  War Without End – Fall of the Terran Empire Book 1

  The Tortuous Path – Fall of the Terran Empire Book 2

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in the book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form, other than for review purposes, without the permission of the publisher and copyright owner.

  Cover art by Justin Adams

  Interstellar War

  Book 5 of The Pike Chronicles

  G.P. Hudson

  © 2018

  Chapter 1

  Captain Rickards turned in his command chair, cracking his back, and sighing in relief as the pressure on his spine dissipated. They had been out on patrol for forty days now, well past the typical three-week mark. Under the terms of his contract with the Amboss corporation, he and his crew were entitled to two weeks off after three weeks of active duty. Yet here they were on day forty, still out on patrol. Of course, they would make a killing on overtime pay, but he was tired. There was something about being out in space for prolonged periods of time that messed with his head.

  This was the fault of the fools in head office, and the attempted invasion of New Byzantium. Not only did it fail, but these idiots lost the bulk of their fleet in the process. Now, there weren’t enough ships available for the necessary rotation, which left him stuck out on patrol indefinitely. Head office continued to remind him of all the money they would make, as if that made everything right. Those damn executive types thought they could simply buy anyone off. Sure, he liked money as much as the next guy, but he’d also like the chance to spend it.

  Forced savings, he thought. They’re probably doing you a favor you dumb bastard. If you save enough you might actually retire one day. Maybe even open a business of your own. This almost made his assignment bearable. Of course it could have been worse. They could have assigned him to that fool invasion. Patrol duty might be boring, but at least he was still alive, which was more than he could say for many of those who attacked New Byzantium. Rickards shook his head. New Byzantium. Who would’ve thought that they could defeat a combined corporate fleet? And the rumors were fantastic. He heard talk of ships with miraculous technology. They could vanish and reappear at different locations, sometimes even light years apart. Even more fantastical, there was talk that the vanishing ships were from Earth, of all places. Imagine being defeated by ghosts and legends.

  He didn’t know what to believe, but he knew that there was something big going on in the New Byzantium system. To top it all off, the planet wasn’t under corporate rule. They had a democratic government, and everyone could vote, not just the shareholders. Rickards rolled his head around, trying to relieve the tension in his neck. The movement produced a couple of satisfying cracks, temporarily loosening the tightness. He wondered what retirement on New Byzantium would be like. He hated to admit it, but age had crept up on him. He had to start thinking of these things now. He needed to put a plan in place, and New Byzantium was starting to look a lot better from where he sat. The stories depicted the planet as an oasis. It wasn’t just the political system. There was sunshine all year round, and more beaches than people. Why not enjoy his old age on a sandy beach? He could only hope that he would be allowed to emigrate when the time came.

  “Picking up multiple contacts on long range scans,” announced the tactical officer.

  Rickards sat up straight in his chair. “Contacts? How many contacts?” He feared the answer. They hadn’t seen a single ship in forty days.

  “Two-hundred-and-fifteen.” The tactical officer looked up from his console, his face pale. “They’re Kemmar warships.”

  “On main screen,” said Rickards, jumping out of his chair. The bridge’s main screen switched to tactical, displaying a cluster of red threat icons advancing toward their position. Rickards stared in disbelief. The Kemmar were invading Amboss space. And after the attack on New Byzantium, Amboss was powerless to stop them.

  "Sir?" said the helmsman, who had turned around in his chair to face him. "What are your orders?"

  Rickards glanced from the display to the helmsman. He could see the fear on the young man’s face, and he couldn’t fault him for it. He realized the entire bridge had fallen silent, as they all looked to him for a decision. What should we do? thought Rickards. What can we do?

  "Turn this boat around, Ensign,” said Rickards. “Get us the hell out of here."

  "Yes, Sir. Setting course for Amboss Prime," said the helmsman, visibly relieved to be leaving.

  "We’re not going to Amboss Prime, Ensign."

  "But, don't we need to warn them, Sir?"

  "Warn them of what?” said Rickards, raising his voice. “That they're about to become Kemmar slaves?”

  “Sir?” The helmsman gave Rickards a look and he bristled with guilt.

  “Fine. Send a communication advising them of the situation.”

  “But, Sir, aren’t we obligated to return to base?” pleaded the helmsman.

  “No Ensign. Amboss Prime is finished. Nothing we do can change that."

  "But shouldn't we do something?"

  "Do you want to become a Kemmar slave, Ensign?"

  "Uh, no, Sir"

  "Neither do I. Let's get the hell out of here now."

  "Yes, Sir. Destination?"

  "Set a course for New Byzantium." Let’s hope the rumors are true, he thought, as he sat back down in his command chair.

  The helmsman nodded, returning to his control panel. "Setting course for New Byzantium."

  Chapter 2

  Franz Stumpf, CEO of Amboss corporation, stood on the tarmac with a handful of executives and security personnel, watching the Kemmar shuttles land. The Kemmar fleet had advanced on Amboss Prime unopposed, and Stumpf had been careful to ensure that none of the Amboss ships took an aggressive posture. He had sent the Amboss corporation’s unconditional surrender the moment the Kemmar ships appeared. Opposing the Kemmar would be hopeless, and could also provoke punitive strikes against Amboss Prime.

  The Kemmar fleet now had control of the Amboss system. All remaining Amboss starships had been seized and boarded. Several Kemmar ships had taken position in low orbit around Amboss Prime. Now, hundreds of Kemmar shuttles landed across the planet, bringing with them the Kemmar occupation force. The moment he struggled to prevent had arrived.

  As he waited for the Kemmar troops to emerge, he wondered if things would have been different had the New Byzantium invasion succeeded. The Kemmar had promised to leave them alone if they delivered the vanishing ship technology. Would they have done so? Even if they hadn’t, Amboss would still have its fleet, and some
hope of defending themselves. Instead, they were left praying for mercy. He hoped that mercy could be bought. Amboss was the richest of the corporate planets. A smart Kemmar commander could become incredibly wealthy by merely taking a cut of Amboss commerce.

  Five large shuttles landed on the tarmac, and their hatches swung open, dropping heavy metal ramps to the ground. Within seconds, Kemmar soldiers in full, jet black combat armor poured out of the shuttles and began to fan out, like ants defiling a wedding cake. A contingent of Kemmar soldiers immediately surrounded Stumpf’s party, weapons shouldered, their black visors reflecting the terrified faces of Stumpf’s executives.

  “Just stay calm, everyone,” said Stumpf, in a quiet voice. “They will not harm us.”

  “Why do you think that, Mr. Stumpf?” said one of the Kemmar, stepping up to Stumpf and removing his helmet.

  Stumpf immediately recognized the alien. “Lord Koft,” said Stumpf. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

  Koft snarled at Stumpf, flashing his razor sharp teeth. “Do you find this pleasurable, Mr. Stumpf?”

  “It is always a pleasure to see a familiar face,” said Stumpf, doing his best to keep from trembling.

  “Curious. Now tell me why.”

  “Forgive me, Lord Koft, but I don’t understand.”

  Koft let out a short, low growl. “Tell me why you think we will not harm you.”

  “Oh, I see. Well, my lord, we have surrendered, and offered no resistance to your occupation of our planet.”

  “Do you think that we should be grateful for your cowardice?” said Koft.

  “We are a practical people, my lord. We have no hope of defeating your fleet. Attempting to repel your invasion would cause unnecessary losses on both sides. Is it not better to avoid those losses with a peaceful transfer of power?”

  “Do you think we fear battle?”

  “What? No, of course not.”

  “Yet you claim that the Kemmar fear casualties.”

  “No, my lord. That is not what I meant. I merely suggested that a practical approach would save resources on both sides.”

  “You deprive my men the glory of battle, and expect us to be grateful. Is that not correct?”

  “I apologize, my lord. I meant no disrespect,” said Stumpf, a bead of perspiration stinging his eye.

  “Do you still think we won’t harm you?”

  “Amboss Prime is now under your control, my lord. This is a wealthy planet. We have been its administrators for some time. Permitting us to continue in our function would ensure no disruption of commerce, providing substantial profits to the Kemmar Empire.”

  “Who is this man?” said Lord Koft, pointing at one of Stumpf’s executives.

  “This is Mr. Shuster. He is Amboss corporation’s Vice President of Finance.”

  “Step forward,” Koft ordered.

  “Uh, yes, my lord,” said Shuster, his voice cracking as he walked forward a few steps.

  “Closer,” Koft barked.

  Shuster took a few more tentative steps.

  “Here,” said Koft, pointing to the ground directly in front of him.

  Shuster acquiesced, taking several more steps, until he stood directly in front of Koft.

  Koft studied the man, growling and baring his teeth. “Are you afraid, Mr. Shuster?”

  “Yes,” squeaked Shuster.

  “Honesty. How refreshing.” Koft suddenly lunged at Shuster. The terrified man futilely tried to get away, but tripped, and fell backward. Koft was on him before his back hit the tarmac. The Kemmar’s sharp teeth clamped down on the screaming man’s neck. Shrieks gave way to gurgles, as Koft relentlessly tore apart the man’s throat.

  Stumpf looked away in horror. A few moments later and Shuster was silent, leaving only the sound of Koft’s grunts, crunching cartilage, and the frightened whimpers of the Amboss executives. Stumpf only hoped that Shuster was dead, and no longer suffering. He morbidly wondered if Shuster was the lucky one.

  Koft spent several gruesome minutes feeding on Shuster’s lifeless body before rising to face Stumpf again. Blood was smeared across the Kemmar’s face, and dripped down the front of his black armor. A strand of pink flesh still clung to Koft’s chin. Bile burned the back of Stumpf’s throat. He fought to keep it down.

  “Do we understand each other now?” said Koft.

  “Yes, my lord,” said Stumpf, cold dread filling his belly. “We understand each other.”

  Chapter 3

  “You’re sure about this?” said Prime Minister Sallas, the leader of New Byzantium.

  “There can be no doubt,” said General Calledonius. “The Amboss Captain’s report has been confirmed by his ship’s logs, and through our covert sources. The Kemmar Empire has invaded the Amboss corporation.”

  Sallas exhaled sharply as he leaned back in his chair. “I suppose it’s only a matter of time now. How long do you estimate we have before the Kemmar attack us?”

  The old General stood rigidly straight in front of the Prime Minister’s desk. His face remained stoic, betraying no hint of emotion. “We believe we still have time, Prime Minister. The Kemmar took over Amboss Prime unopposed. This was largely a result of our forces destroying their fleet. They simply could not defend themselves. The other corporations also suffered major defeats against us. We believe the Kemmar will opt for the low hanging fruit first, and invade the other corporations before coming for us. That gives us some time to prepare.”

  “It gives Admiral Pike time to return,” Sallas said hopefully.

  “If he returns,” said Calledonius.

  “What do you mean, if he returns?”

  “Admiral Pike has been gone for weeks. We don’t even know if he is alive.”

  “I understand your concerns, General. But I don’t believe Admiral Pike is dead. He doesn’t strike me as someone who is easy to kill.”

  “That may be true, but we still don’t know what has happened to him. Earth is over a thousand light years away, and the Chaanisar reported that the Juttari had invaded the Sol System. There are many possible reasons why he hasn’t yet returned, and none of them are good. We have to assume that he won’t be here to help when the Kemmar invade, and prepare accordingly.”

  “General, I know you’re a proud man, but you have to admit that we wouldn’t have defeated the corporate invasion without Pike’s help. How can we hope to stand against a Kemmar invasion without Pike’s jump ships?”

  Calledonius’s face turned red. Clearly Sallas had angered him. “We’ll just have to muddle through, Sir.”

  Sallas knew the General was loyal to New Byzantium and its government, but the old man had a big chip on his shoulder when it came to Jon Pike. Sallas could only assume Calledonius saw Pike as a threat, which was foolish. General Calledonius commanded New Byzantium’s armed forces. Pike commanded his own ships. There was no reason for this petty rivalry. “General, don’t take this personally. You know as well as I do that we need the jump technology. That is what gave us an edge against the corporate fleet, even though we were outnumbered. And that is what will give us the winning edge against the Kemmar.”

  “Of course, Sir. I understand,” said Calledonius, his face returning to stone. “But we still need to prepare for the likelihood that Admiral Pike will not return in time to help us.”

  “Yes, General. That is a wise approach.”

  “Thank you, Sir. Now, if there is nothing more, I have a lot of work to do.”

  “Of course, General. Please keep me updated.”

  Calledonius saluted, turned and walked out the tall double doors.

  Sallas turned his chair around to face the window. Staring out at the manicured gardens, he couldn’t help but wonder about Jon Pike. He didn’t for a second think that Pike was dead. What Pike found when he reached Earth? Had the Juttari succeeded with their invasion? If so, he didn’t think Pike would simply leave Earth to its fate. Pike had sworn to protect New Byzantium, but he had also fought to protect Earth his whole life. Sallas knew th
at if Earth was at risk, Pike would do what he could to help.

  Where did that leave New Byzantium? They were in trouble. What if Pike couldn’t help both worlds? Which would he choose? He shivered as an icy chill crept up his back. He brought his hands up, steepling them in front of his face, and closed his eyes. How could so much rely on the actions of just one man?

  Chapter 4

  “Jump gate is active, Sir. Incoming contacts,” said Ensign Petrovic, the Freedom’s tactical officer.

  “Identify,” said Admiral Jon Pike, standing in front of his command console.

  “Reading multiple Diakan signatures. It’s a Diakan battle group, Sir.”

  “Hail them,” said Jon.

  “They’re responding. General Dathos is asking to speak to you, Sir.”

  “Patch him through to my console.” A Diakan face appeared on Jon’s display. Even with their history, he still found the aliens repulsive to look at. He wasn’t sure if it was the big fish eyes, or the gills. Maybe it was the lizard-like green skin, or the fact that they seemed to never blink. He conceded that it might just be his prior mistrust of the aliens causing his reaction. He had resented them for so long that it probably still clouded his judgment. “This is Admiral Pike,” said Jon.

  “I am General Dathos, commander of the Diakan Fifth Fleet,” Dathos said with a hiss. “It is an honor to speak with you, Admiral. The Great See’er has foretold of your rise.”

  The comment surprised Jon. He still found it difficult to accept the new found Diakan support. But for some bizarre reason their Great See’er had prophesied that he would rise to power, and now the Diakans treated him like a monarch. Frankly, he found it embarrassing. He had to admit that it was better than the Diakans believing that they still called the shots. “Thank you, General. The Great See’er is generous in her praise.”

 

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