The Human Chronicles Saga : Boxset #2 (The Human Chronicles Saga Boxsets)

by T. R. Harris

  However, it would be millennia before Earth would ever recover – if even then.

  The Klin Pleabaen, Wesselian Velsum was in the process of shuttling over from his own massive flagship to meet with Polimic. The slender, silver creature was in the region overseeing the supply of warships his people were providing the race called the Jusepi, in preparation for their own revolt against their Human masters. This revolt, in Polimic’s opinion, was long overdue and he wanted to personally question Velsum about the delay.

  Pleabaen Velsum was escorted to the observation deck, where Polimic hoped he would be impressed by the size and scope of the great warship. Even though it had been the Klin who had taught the Kracori how to build starships, Polimic’s was larger than anything the Klin had ever attempted.

  Velsum entered the room and approached the Kracori, a neutral expression on his face. He did not look around at the blaze of stars above them, but rather stepped up to Polimic and bowed slightly. “Greetings Langril Nomar Polimic, this is our second face-to-face meeting. I hope this occasion finds you well?”

  Polimic neither bowed nor nodded, vaguely annoyed by the formalities of the Klin greeting. “Yes, I am well. Our two ships were in the same vicinity, so I thought it appropriate we meet again in person.”

  “I agree. CW communications are very effective, yet they lack the intimacy of being in the same room as another.”

  “Have you had a chance to survey my ship, Velsum? It is the largest in either of our fleets.”

  “It is impressive,” Velsum answered without sincerity. “It is similar in size to a Juirean Class-4, or the Human’s Reagan Starcruiser. I hear the Humans now have a vessel twice the size of the Reagan-class, and of course the Juireans once boasted two Class-7’s.”

  Polimic could feel the veins in his neck begin to pulsate. How dare this weak, arrogant creature insult the pride of the Kracori fleet? He may be able to sight examples of larger ships built by other races, but he could not give any examples from his own.

  “Velsum, I have noticed that the massacre we spoke of several months back has not yet occurred. Why not? That event is needed to initiate the Human-Jusepi War.”

  “That is correct, Polimic. The incident will take place when the timing is right.”

  “I thought the timing was right back then?”

  “It was not,” Velsum moved to the nearest edge of the glass dome and looked out the shining star nearby. “We could not initiate the war prematurely. It would not serve our purpose to have the Humans defeat the Jusepi before the location of Elision was revealed; otherwise they would have a battle-ready fleet assembled which they could send against your homeworld. The more time we have to arm and train the Jusepi, the greater damage they can inflict on the Humans. We will continue to supply the Jusepi until they are ready … or until the location of Elision is revealed.”

  “We will never know for sure when that time will come. McCarthy escaped us once and since then he has not been detected again. He may never reveal the location, in which case we will be at the mercy of the Jusepi and your excruciatingly slow operations.”

  Velsum turned back to look at Polimic. “That is not entirely true. Our spies have just now reported that the Humans now know of Elision’s location.”

  Polimic was stunned – and scared. This was the news his people had feared for over ten years, the time when the Humans would learn of their location and send their near-inexhaustible military strength against them. During the past decade, the Kracori had also been building up their forces, yet their resources were limited. The Humans, on the other hand, had built a small empire within the Far Arm and were pulling raw materials out of a dozen mining worlds. Their fleet was estimated to be near five thousand warships, and as Velsum had stated, included some truly massive vessels.

  And now they knew the location of Polimic’s homeworld.

  He and the Kracori race would now be fully committed to this new course of action. It was now a matter of life or death.

  “Then you can start the war, the war here!” Polimic exclaimed.

  “Yes, it is time,” Velsum agreed. “However, the Jusepi will still be no match for the Humans, but the distraction will be enough. Soon the Humans will pull their forces from around Earth and send them to this region. That will clear the space for your units to attack.”

  Velsum walked up to the taller Kracori, until he was only a foot or two away and well within Polimic’s circle of comfort. “You must now hasten your preparations, Langril Polimic. The war between the Humans and the Jusepi will be brief, and there is a very good possibility that the Humans will learn that the Klin have supplied their new enemy with ships and weapons. After the initial Jusepi ships are destroyed, and yet more appear, it will become evident that they are receiving assistance. This will alert the Humans to the fact that we are once again in their region, and they will take precautions. Your attack must have taken place by then.

  “Soon a deadly darkness will fall upon the face of the Earth. It will be from your ships in the skies of Earth, Polimic, causing the starlight to fall. It is starting; the time for the destruction of Earth is near.”

  The End

  Of

  Cain’s Crusaders

  And now…

  The Apex Predator

  The Human Chronicles Saga

  Book #7

  The Apex Predator

  By T.R. Harris

  The Apex Predator …

  In this alien universe, Humans are the Supermen – stronger, faster and more coordinated than nearly all the other aliens in the galaxy. It’s this unique concept that has made The Human Chronicles Saga one of the most-popular science fiction series on the market today. Full of exotic adventure, alien worlds, fantastic space battles and a down-to-earth sense of humor, The Chronicles are a truly unique take on the subject of Human-Alien interaction.

  The Apex Predator … is the exciting continuation of the adventures of Adam Cain and his team of Human Supermen.

  In this edition …

  Having placed a bounty on the heads of the alien Klin and Kracori races, Humanity must now face the desperate wrath of mankind’s worst enemies, who have once again joined forces for a pre-emptive strike against the Earth. Their plan is brilliant … and only the special abilities of ex-Navy SEAL Adam Cain can save the planet.

  It’s a frantic race against time, as Adam and Sherri Valentine arrive on Earth to help mount a ragtag defense against the Kracori fleet. But will it be enough?

  Meanwhile, Riyad Tarazi is on his own, carrying out the dangerous assignment of verifying the location of the Kracori homeworld of Elision. Riyad soon discovers he’s in the middle of a hornet’s nest of deadly aliens, every bit the equal of the Human Supermen. Will he succeed, or will he become another casualty of a galaxy growing ever more hostile to mankind.

  And the evil Englishman Nigel McCarthy is up his old tricks as well, and his actions resurrect the sleeping giant of the Juireans. It’s the last thing the Humans need is another deadly alien race devoted to their destruction.

  As with all the books in The Human Chronicles Saga, this one is full of adventure, exotic locales, strange alien races … and of course the humor that readers have come to expect in each new volume.

  On the planet Earth, mankind is The Apex Predator. In the Milky Way Galaxy, we will assume the same role. After all, you can only poke the bear so long … before you get your head bitten off!

  Adam Cain is an Alien with an Attitude.

  His adventures continue…

  32

  Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil … because I’m the meanest son-of-a-bitch in the valley!

  Riyad Tarazi smiled when the saying popped in his head – it seemed so appropriate for the moment.

  He looked down at the alien-on-the-bed and shook his head. Yes, the obnoxious creature had pissed him off – as did most aliens – and being the bastard that he was, Riyad wasn’t about to let him get away with it. A
fter all, in this valley, Riyad was the meanest son-of-a-bitch, a fact that was just now dawning on the unfortunate alien-on-the-bed.

  Riyad knew he wasn’t the nicest guy around, and now with the added benefit of being a Human in alien space, he found he’d often go out of his way to be even more of a bastard out here than he would back on Earth. This made sense, because on his homeworld there was always a meaner, tougher S.O.B. waiting just around the corner to take you down; but out here in the galaxy … not so much.

  A perfect example of this was the alien Riyad had strapped to the bed of his hotel room. He was a bureaucrat in the licensing department of the Silvean Trade Guild, the official union governing all merchant transactions within the Juddle Nebula. As it was with most beings in positions of appointed government power, the tall, green-skinned creature had an over-blown impression of himself, so much so that he ended up upsetting the wrong alien with his arrogant and condescending attitude.

  That alien was Riyad Tarazi … from the planet Klingon.

  Unfortunately, Riyad’s attempt at levity was the reason his cover story had unraveled, leading to the unfortunate series of events where a floppy-eared Tel’oran trade official was now tied to the bed, struggling against his bindings and protesting in no uncertain terms that his confinement was completely against protocol.

  “By your actions, you have proven that you are no trader, but rather a mercenary or thief of some kind. I should have known immediately when the race of Klingon did not appear in any of our databases.”

  Riyad grimaced. Yes, that was probably a mistake. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much of a choice. He couldn’t just waltz into the Juddle Nebula and declare himself a Human, not with more Kracori spies here than anywhere else in the galaxy. Instead, he glued a set of fake gills on the sides of his neck and called himself a Klingon. Even though he was pretty sure Klingons didn’t have gills, he was positive Humans didn’t. With over eight thousand known species in the galaxy – many of which uncatalogued – he had expected the Guild official to simply accept Klingons as just another of these uncatalogued races. Then after a quick check to verify that Humans were gill-less, the bored and disinterested government troll would enter his credentials and stamp his card.

  At least that was the plan.

  Yet to the misfortune of the alien-on-the-bed, the Tel’oran official had become suspicious and insisted on a complete workup on the Klingon race before he would issue even a temporary trade certificate. Riyad had neither the time nor patience for such bureaucratic bullshit. So before the alien could raise the alarm, Riyad slapped him unconscious, rolled him up in a bolt of cloth pulled from the curtains in his office, and carried him out of the building propped up under his right arm like so much trash being taken out.

  No one questioned Riyad as he carried his bundle from the building. After all who would assume a full-grown Tel’oran could be carried so effortlessly? Yet to a Human, the thin-boned Tel’oran was about as heavy as a bag of groceries.

  Now they were back in Riyad’s room, all settled in and having a more reasoned conversation regarding Riyad’s specific needs.

  “I apologize if our association didn’t start off with the best of manners. What is your name, my friend? Perhaps we should get to know each other better.”

  “I am Juous Minn, and I am afraid the time for pleasantries has passed.” For emphasis, the alien-on-the-bed jerked hard against his bindings. “No amount of courtesy will overcome the fact that you have abducted me … and simply because I questioned your claim to be a … a Klingon.”

  “What does it matter to you whether I’m a Klingon … or a Smurf?” Riyad asked. “I’m just one person. Even if I meant to cause harm, what could I do on my own?”

  “It matters not if you are one or a hundred, the fact that you have physically accosted and restrained me on this bed proves that your intentions are evil.”

  Riyad nodded. “I can’t argue with that; however, if you believe that then why are you still resisting? All I am seeking is passage with a trade convoy. I truly do have goods to sell and your nebula is a prime market. We both come out winners. Just enter my information in your blasted computer and we can both get on with our lives.”

  “I will not do that,” the alien stated firmly. “The Guild has existed for hundreds of years; we serve the Silvean Nebula and protect it from Outers – such as you. We are not part of the Expansion, or the Federation or any other such affiliation. We only accept outside trade as a consequence of our need for advanced technologies. Other than that, we need nothing from those beyond the Nebula, even from Smurfs … whatever they are.”

  “They’re little blue creatures with antennae, but that’s not important now,” Riyad answered with a brilliant white smile. The Guild official didn’t recoil from the sight of Riyad’s teeth, revealing to him that this particular breed of alien didn’t subscribe to the bare-teeth-means-life-challenge, as did much of the Expansion. This was good; Riyad did so love to flash his pearly whites – and without having to kill aliens just for doing so.

  The alien-on-the-bed was still talking. “I have come to believe that you are indeed trying to hide your true identity, which can only mean one thing: You are a Human in disguise, here to spy on the Nebula. Why else would you come with such devious ways?”

  Riyad had taken a gamble when establishing his cover. Having no idea which races were included in the Guild’s database, he had to come up with some way of guarding against a physical-characteristics scan of any known species he claimed to be, forcing him to use a fake race instead. It was now apparent that security – and paranoia – within the nebula was greater than he’d anticipated.

  “And what do you have against Humans … unless you have something to hide from them?” Riyad sat down on the bed next to the squirming alien. Even though this creature had a face like a knobby-faced gremlin – big ears and all – his body language was still easy to read. “Ah, so you are hiding something from the Humans! Now I wonder what that could be, my friend? Could it have anything to do with the rumored location of the Kracori homeworld being right here within your precious nebula?”

  The alien hesitated before answering. “I know not what you speak of? The Kracori are outlaws and having knowledge of their whereabouts and not disclosing it would only bring about the wrath of the Humans.”

  “Exactly, and maybe that’s why you Nebulites – or whatever you call yourselves – are so protective of your turf? After all, what would the Humans do if they found you were harboring fugitives?”

  “Humans do not concern us; we do not fear them,” the alien said defiantly, even though his body language continued to betray his true feelings. “And from what I understand, they have all left the Expansion and returned to the Far Arm. As far as I know, the Humans are not even aware of the Silvean Nebula – or the Juddle Nebula as you Outers call it.”

  “And yet you suspect me of being one, so much so that you were about to call in your goons to arrest me.”

  “I do not understand the word goon, but I was about to call in the Enforcers because you were attempting to perpetrate a fraud. Trade convoys are very exclusive and restricted to only those with essential goods or established businesses, of which you had neither.”

  “I have a shipment of advanced medical monitors, better than any you currently have. My equipment will save lives. Shouldn’t that be enough to grant me a place in a convoy?”

  “It would … if your other credentials had checked out. Yet you couldn’t even pass the race-of-origin verification. As is now apparent, my suspicions were justified.”

  Yes, Riyad had been careless in his development of his legend – the background story spies built to hide their true identity and purpose. But who knew the Nebulites – or in this case, the Tel’orans – would be so paranoid? The fact that they were, only added more evidence for the circumstantial case that the ‘McCarthy Coordinates’ were correct. Now, more than ever, Riyad was sure he was on the right track.

  33

&nb
sp; Riyad Tarazi…

  The location of the planet Elision was both the most-coveted secret in the galaxy, as well as its most-closely guarded. It had been over five years since the Humans had declared the Kracori an outlaw race, along with their allies, the Klin. For heinous crimes perpetrated against the people of Earth, mankind was determined to make them both pay.

  The Klin had initiated the Juirean/Human War twelve years earlier, guiding the Juireans to the Earth and allowing for the death of nearly a seventh of the planet’s population. The Kracori, for their part, had attempted a nuclear attack on the planet a few years later, designed to irradiate the planet for thousands of years and effectively removing the Human race as a force within the galaxy. If it had not been for the courageous act of a minor race of beings called the Gielians, the Kracori would have succeeded.

  Now the K’s – as the Klin-Kracori alliance was often referred – were hunted, not only by the Humans, but also by other races wishing to gain favor with them. Still others, not so blatant in their kowtowing, gladly revealed what information they found so as to not get caught up in the vendetta the Humans sought against their enemies.

  To this day, the search for the Klin and the Kracori continued.

  It had often been debated how two entire races could so effectively disappear from the galaxy; however, in the case of the Klin, it was more easily understood. Their homeworld of Klinmon had been destroyed four thousand years before by the Juireans, and now they survived in a number of hidden enclaves on a dozen different worlds.