by G. P. Hudson
GALACTIC WAR
Book 9 of The Pike Chronicles
G.P. Hudson
© 2018
To join my email list and be notified of new releases Click Here
Subscribers get lower prices on new releases – no spam
Please email me with any questions at [email protected]
I answer all reader emails
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
Galactic War – Book 9 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 Tom Edwards
Chapter 1
Jamie hid in the service tube above the target’s office. His feet pressed against the walls, legs splayed out almost in the splits. There was no trembling, no exertion. His augmented strength allowed him to hold the stressful position without so much as a flinch. He took in slow, calm breaths. His body remained hard. His muscles steel.
He heard the target enter, accompanied by his bodyguards. Jamie listened to their footfalls and determined their locations. The fat one, the target, settled into his chair. Two bodyguards flanked the door. The third stood at his boss’s side. They all faced the door in silence as if expecting someone to come through. Were they tipped off?
Nobody other than the client knew about the hit. Had the client sold him out? He didn’t think so. Had he made a mistake? He retraced his steps and analyzed his surveillance methods. He had spent some time watching the target, getting to know his routine and precautions. Had he been made? If so, the mark gave no indication. Then why were they acting so strangely?
Surprise was an essential aspect of any job. Had he lost that advantage? Jamie realized that no one had said a word since entering the room. That set off alarms in his head. Somehow, they knew. He didn’t know how, but they knew something was about to happen.
Did it matter? Did the target know who he was up against? If he did, then he was a fool. Three bodyguards would not be enough to save him. Jamie, shook his head, ridding himself of any doubt. The target would die according to plan.
Jamie drew his weapon. An energy blade. The station’s sensors would pick up a firearm’s discharge. He couldn’t risk that. Regardless, he always preferred the blade. Any moron could fire an energy weapon, but a blade required skill. Finesse. You couldn’t just kill your enemy from a distance, safe behind your hiding spot. No, you had to get close to do your killing. See the surprise in their eyes as the sizzling metal melted their flesh and burned through their bones.
Even during his time as a Chaanisar, under the control of the alien race known as the Juttari, he favored the blade. It never occurred to him to question why. He wondered about that now.
Was it the manifestation of some repressed rage that pushed through the Juttari mind control? The stars knew there were plenty of repressed emotions in all the Chaanisar.
Was there something different about him in particular? He shook his head again. Foolish self-indulgence, he thought. None of it matters. All that matters is the target below. Get on with your work.
His hand tightened around the hilt of his weapon, and he readied himself for action. He had weakened a section of the service tube before the target’s arrival and had been careful not to put any weight on it while waiting. Reaching out, he pushed his forearms against the tube’s walls, holding himself in place while tucking his legs underneath. Letting go of the walls, his feet thrust downward and broke through the weakened section.
The guards barely had time to turn and face him, let alone draw their weapons. Jamie hit the floor and burst into action. He moved through the room with speed and ferocity. A lethal blur. His augmented speed ensured he stayed three steps ahead of his opponents.
He gutted the guard closest to him, turning the blade in his belly and pulling upward to the chest. The crackling weapon cut through the breastplate like it was nothing more than paper.
Before the guard could hit the floor, Jamie was on the move. He cleared the room in two impossibly quick strides to reach the two guards at the door.
Their weapons had cleared their holsters forcing Jamie to change direction. Impressive, he thought. He hadn’t expected them to move as fast as they did. It was a shame he had to kill them.
He ran up the near wall as blue energy bolts chased after him. Halfway up, he pushed off, leaping into the air over the bodyguards’ heads. They tried to keep pace but struggled to adjust to his tactics. This time they were about a half second too late. It was all Jamie needed.
He landed and struck. Spinning he brought the knife up and across, severing the first bodyguard’s jugular and windpipe before the man could point his weapon at him.
Completing the turn, he pointed the tip forward and plunged it into the other guard’s chest. This time the man managed to get off a shot, barely missing Jamie’s shoulder. It made no difference. As before, the hard bones offered no resistance to the thrust, and the tip penetrated the heart.
Jamie yanked the sizzling blade out, letting his victim drop wide-eyed to the floor. The target had gotten up from his chair and raised a sidearm. Jamie threw the blade. It flew into the target’s hand, sending the gun clattering to the floor.
The fat man shrieked in pain. He stared in horror at the blade melting the small bones in his hand.
Jamie stepped up to the man, taking his time. There were specific rules to follow. Jamie leaped over the desk, seized the target by the mouth, and thrust him into the wall. “Stop screaming or I will crush your jaw.”
The fat man’s eyes widened, but he managed to turn his shrieks into frightened whimpers.
“I have a message for you,” Jamie said and produced a handheld comm. He tapped it, and a man appeared.
“Well, well,” said the man. “You don’t seem quite as confident anymore, Mr. Bruns. Why is that?”
Bruns continued to whimper but didn’t answer the question.
“Did you really think that you were safe from me? That I couldn’t get to you? I’m Durril Tai. All your money and power are useless against me. At any rate, I’m not one for speeches. I just wanted you to see my face so that you knew it was me who had you killed.” Tai leaned in. “Nobody screws me over and gets away with it. Nobody. Not even you.”
The screen went black, and Jamie put the comm back into his pocket.
“W-wait. You don’t have to do this,” said Bruns. “Whatever Tai is paying you, I’ll double it.”
Jamie yanked the blade out of Bruns’s hand.
“I’ll triple it!” Bruns shrieked. “Name your price. You can have anything you want.”
“Sorry,” Jamie said. “I’m not taking new clients.”
Bruns gasped as the blade entered his chest. Disbelief flickered in his eyes before they became vacant, and he fell silent.
Chapter 2
“That sure is a scary looking ship,” said the bartender.
Jamie glanced at the former Juttari battleship docked to DLC station but said nothing. It now bore the UHSF insignia, but still filled him with dread.
“I almost joined the forces,” the bartender continued, not knowing when to shut up. “But I had already finished my stint with the corporate fleet years earlier. My wife would’ve killed me with her bare hands if I signed on to another tour.”
This intrigued Jamie. “Your wife kills with her hands instead of a weapon?”
“What? No. It’s just a figure of speech.”
Jamie turned his attention back to his drink. The man was a fool, nothing more. He downed the rest of his glass.
“You want another, friend?”
“I am not your friend.”
“Okay. Again, just a figure of speech. Another drink?”
Jamie nodded, and the irritating fool went away. He looked back at the imposing battleship. How many ships like that had he seen in his long years as a Juttari slave? He didn’t know. It hardly mattered now. The Juttari no longer controlled him. They couldn’t force him to do their bidding anymore. No one could.
“Greetings brother,” a voice said from behind him.
Jamie turned to see three men in UHSF uniforms. He knew instantly what they were. Chaanisar. Just like they knew what he was. He turned away without a word.
“May we sit?” the man said.
“I do not own the stools,” Jamie said.
The three men took that as an invitation and sat down. Jamie contemplated leaving.
The bartender returned with Jamie’s drink, and set it down. “What can I get you guys?”
“We will have whatever our brother is drinking. I will pay for his as well.”
“I don’t need your charity,” Jamie said. “And I’m not your brother. Not anymore.”
“It is not charity. It is a show of respect. And we will always be brothers.”
“Really? Why do you believe that?”
“We are family, brother. All Chaanisar are.”
“I have no family. Neither do you. The Juttari saw to that.”
“We all bear the same scars.”
“That much is true,” Jamie said, taking a swig of his drink.
“I see that you do not wear the UHSF uniform,” the man said.
“I’m done fighting for others.”
“Do you not wish to destroy the Juttari?”
“The Juttari will meet their fate regardless of what I do.”
“That they will. We have made great progress against them the last couple of years. One day soon, the Juttari Empire will be no more.”
“I wish you success in the coming battles,” Jamie said sincerely. He still hated the Juttari and would love nothing more than to see their empire burn. The aliens were monsters, plain and simple. If not for their conquest of the Sol System, he would have never been abducted. Never augmented. Never turned into a Chaanisar.
“I am Lieutenant Jarvi. This is Sergeant Lee and Corporal Ryder.”
Jamie took another drink and looked away.
“What do they call you, brother?” Jarvi persisted.
“Didn’t I just finish telling you that I am not your brother?” Jamie growled.
“There is no reason for hostility. We are not your enemies.”
“Jamie,” he said grudgingly. “My name is Jamie.”
“When did Admiral Pike free you, Jamie?” Admiral Jon Pike had freed thousands of Chaanisar, and they all pledged their loyalty to him, fighting proudly for the UHSF.
“Jon Pike did not free me.”
“Then the armistice freed you.” Extremely powerful aliens known as the Erinyie supported the Juttari. For all intents and purposes, these aliens were immortal. They hailed from another galaxy, as did two other immortal races known as the Antikitheri, and the Cenobi. Those three races waged war against each other in the Milky Way, and when the fighting stopped, freedom for all Chaanisar was a condition of the armistice.
“No one freed me.”
“But then how are you here?”
Jamie took a deep breath. “Something happened to my brain implant. It malfunctioned, and the Juttari failed to notice. When the opportunity presented itself, I escaped.”
“That is truly remarkable,” Jamie said. “We had a similar experience on board our ship. Up until now, I thought we were the only ones who had gained freedom that way.”
“Clearly you are not as unique as you believed.”
“Yes, and it seems that the Juttari technology has its faults. Have you heard of others who were freed in the same way?”
“No.”
Jarvi nodded. “How long ago did you gain your freedom?”
“Five years.”
“Incredible. How did you end up here in the colonies?”
“It does not matter. I am here. That is all there is.”
“I understand,” Jarvi said. “Do you live here? On the station?”
“I live wherever my work takes me.”
“What do you do for work.”
Jamie turned to face the man. “You ask a lot of questions. Did you know that?”
“I apologize, brother. I am merely trying to get to know you. Feel free to ask us anything you like.”
Jamie took a sip of his drink. “What do you think I do for work? What have the Chaanisar been trained to be?”
“The Juttari turned us all into elite soldiers,” Jarvi said. “But you already said you do not fight for others.”
“Correct. I fight for myself instead.”
“I don’t understand what that means.”
“What is there not to understand? My services are for hire.”
“Are you a mercenary then? An assassin?”
“I can be either. It all depends on the job, and whether I accept it.”
Lieutenant Jarvi stared back at Jamie in silence.
“What? You have no more questions?”
“No, I do not.”
“Good. Enjoy your stay.” Jamie downed the rest of his drink and got up. He was about to leave when Lieutenant Jarvi grabbed his forearm. Jamie restrained himself from killing the man. “Let go of my arm,” he said icily.
“All Chaanisar are brothers, Jamie. Never forget that. If you ever need our help, do not hesitate to contact us.”
“I don’t need your damned help.”
Lieutenant Jarvi released his grip, and Jamie left the bar.
He wandered through the winding corridors for a time, lost in his thoughts. He barely noticed when he emerged into the space station’s simulated outdoor area. Wandering through the streets, Jamie gave no heed to the people strolling by, or the towering skyscrapers flanking him on all sides.
Who did Lieutenant Jarvi think he was to call him brother? He didn’t know him. None of them did. Jamie might have been a Chaanisar once, but that was in the past, and he preferred to leave it there.
And why did those damn fools hold onto that identity? The Juttari made them Chaanisar. They had no choice in the matter. Now that they were free, Chaanisar is the last thing they should call themselves. Instead, they wore the name like a badge of honor. As if taking the name would erase the horror that had been their lives.
Fools, he thought. Anger welled up inside him, yet another mark of his freedom. His emotions were regulated when he had been a Chaanisar. When his brain implant malfunctioned, however, his emotion regulator went with it. Perhaps that was why the others threw around the Chaanisar name so freely. It didn’t enrage them like it did him. Their emotions were still controlled. Brothers? That was the last thing they were.
Turning a corner, a shouting man caught Jamie’s attention. He was oddly dressed, and very out of place on the station. He wore a black hooded robe and waved his arms around like a madman as he spoke. Several similarly dressed men stood silently by his side. A small crowd had formed to listen to the madman. The peculiar scene distracted Jamie from his earlier encounter, and he a
pproached the group, curious about the spectacle.
“The Gods have abandoned us!” the man said raising his hands above his head, fingers pointing upward. “Because we did not believe. Because Admiral Jon Pike did not believe! They offered us their wisdom, and their blessings, and still we scorned them. Jon Pike’s hubris drove the Builders away. We must beg their forgiveness. We must atone!”
The man held out an energy whip for all to see. It shimmered and crackled with live current. To everyone’s astonishment, the man then whipped himself across the back with it. The whip thwacked as it struck, and he dropped to his knees, grunting in pain. The crowd gasped in disbelief. None of his companions tried to help him. Instead, they stood impassively as if nothing had happened.
Fanatics, Jamie thought. He had heard about their movement before. They believed that the so-called Builders, the aliens known as the Antikitheri, were actually gods.
Jon Pike had traveled to the Andromeda Galaxy to find the Builders. He sought their help against the powerful aliens supporting their mortal enemies, the Juttari. But the Builders demanded that humanity worship them as gods in return for their assistance. Jon Pike refused. Jamie would have done the same.
In the years since then, an underground religious movement developed. Practitioners worshiped the Builders and prayed for their return. Jamie had heard that the movement had grown, but was surprised to find them on DLC station.
The hooded man recovered from the pain and slowly rose to his feet. He scanned the crowd, studying each of them until his eyes rested on Jamie, and a glint of recognition appeared. “Look,” he said, pointing a trembling finger at Jamie. “Look at the great Chaanisar!” The crowd turned toward him, and Jamie’s rage returned.
“They all bear the mark of the dark ones, “the fanatic continued. “And they fight for Admiral Jon Pike. Is it any wonder the Gods have abandoned us? How can the Gods forgive us with these demons in our midst?”