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

by T. R. Harris

  Adam punched in the link code for the Pegasus.

  “Kaylor, are you there?”

  Only a second passed before the reply blasted through the speakers on the console. “Yes, and I assume you have heard the news?”

  “I have, and we’re just now lifting off. Get off the surface, too.”

  “But there is a moratorium against launching.”

  “Screw that. Do it anyway. The Pegasus can get away faster than anyone will expect. Just do it before they really start enforcing the moratorium.”

  “Will do,” Kaylor said. “We’ll coordinate once we’re away.”

  “Roger that.”

  Adam cut the link and opened another to McCarthy’s ship. “McCarthy! Come in.”

  The reply was also almost instantaneous. “Way ahead of you, Cain. I saw the first protests and heard the news flash. Figured we could rendezvous in space somewhere.”

  “Good. We’re just now clearing the clouds ... should be in clear space in a couple of minutes. We’ll link up in an hour. Head for the small moon; they have two but this one is just a rock. Everyone else will probably head for the big one, the one with the settlements.”

  Adam leaned back in the chair and took several deep breaths. With Tel’or—as well as the rest of the Nebula—soon to be allied with the Kracori, their journey to Elision could be more dangerous. Most Outer ships would be heading away from the Nebula, not further into it. And the Volsee ship, being as large as it is, could be a much sought after addition to the Nebula’s growing fleet. This was going to get dicey.

  A few minutes later, Adam reopened the link to the Pegasus. “Kaylor, it’s Adam. Come in.”

  “Here, Adam. We are clear, and when we launched it started a surge of other launches as well. It seems no one wants to stay on the planet and become part of the defense force.”

  “I’m meeting up with the other ship near the small Tel’oran moon. I need you to keep your distance. I will set up a separate and continuous link to you once I get aboard the other ship on a frequency only we will know. This will be our private way of communicating.”

  “Understood,” Kaylor said. “So what of the informant’s credentials? Will he be able to help rescue Riyad?”

  Adam hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he should let the Belsonian know that the informant was none other than Nigel McCarthy. After a moment he decided to let him in on the secret.

  “McCarthy! I thought he was dead.”

  “We all did. But now he has a ship and access codes to get us to the surface of Elision. He spent seven years there, so he’s the best source we have. I need to use him, while also keeping a close eye on him.”

  “I assume a close eye means to watch him carefully for any treachery. Knowing McCarthy’s past, that would be very prudent.”

  “This also means you will probably become a vital part of this mission at some point, my friend. I can’t believe that everything will go smoothly from here on out. The mission has gotten off to a rocky start already.”

  “Jym and I are ready and willing to assist. Not so much is the pilot Ruszel Crin. He keeps saying that you will all die during the transit to the Shield, and not from the warring spaceships but from the Nebula itself. He says it is a dangerous passage and novices will not make it through the maze.”

  “But he’s still not willing to help us?”

  “That is correct. He appears to be enjoying the circumstances, at least for now. Yet as I pilot the Pegasus further into the Nebula with him aboard, he may choose to assist me out of a need for self-preservation. Is McCarthy familiar with the landscape of the Nebula?”

  “He says he is, and yet he only escaped from Elision once, and that was three years ago. I’m sure his knowledge is not nearly as in-depth as Ruszel’s. I will keep you informed of our progress as often as I can without letting McCarthy know you’re out there.”

  “Acknowledged, Adam. We will stay back and await your link.”

  “Good luck, Kaylor.”

  87

  “I sure hope you know what you're doing,” Sherri said as she watched the large Volseen ship grow larger in the forward viewport.

  “So do I.” The two Humans were standing on the bridge, just behind the Formilian pilots as the rendezvous was taking place. “McCarthy is the only one who's actually been on Elision. He's studied the planet and the Kracori. If he behaves himself, this could actually be a bonus.”

  Sherri looked at Adam with a scowl. “That's like saying Hitler spoke German so let's use the Austrian as our guide to Auschwitz.”

  It was Adam's turn to scowl. “That's an obscure reference if ever I heard one.”

  “History minor, Mr. Cain. And history is why I'm having a hard time believing that you didn't just up and kill him the moment you saw him. The guy's a lying, backstabbing, rat-bastard of the first-degree.”

  Adam managed a feeble smile. “Yeah, but right now he's a lying, backstabbing, rat-bastard with a ship that can get us to Elision. We owe it to Riyad to at least use all the tools at our disposal.”

  “Are you forgetting that his men killed Lee and tried to do the same to the rest of us?”

  “Of course not, and when we have Riyad back safe and sound, then we'll see how much of our forgiveness McCarthy's earned, if any. Let's face it, I'd rather have him working with us that against us.”

  “Like they say, 'War makes for strange bedfellows’ ”

  “Let's not even go there. That image makes me want to puke.”

  The two large ships joined together with a rigid umbilical and soon the team was transferring all their gear to McCarthy's ship. With the exception of Trimen, the Formilians had no experience with McCarthy. Trimen was aware that it had been McCarthy who orchestrated the kidnapping of their supreme religious figure, Arieel Bol, the event that led to Adam’s involvement with the Formilians and their artificial telepathy device. However, the handsome alien chose to suppress his emotions for the duration of the mission, and to fall in line behind the Humans for any revenge which might be coming McCarthy’s way at its conclusion.

  The three other Humans—Tobias, Rutledge and Tindal—were another story. If looks could kill, Nigel McCarthy would have suffered the most agonizingly painful and creative death possible at the hands of the three SEAL's. As it was, the ex-British SAS Major was quick to recognize the looks and did his best to ease the growing tension.

  “I know I've done some shitty things in the past, mates, but that's all over now. The galaxy has changed and there's not a lot of room for people like me out here anymore. When I got back to my base, my traitorous scientists had destroyed my entire operation and killed off almost my entire crew. What was left wasn't worth salvaging. So you see, I have nothing; it's now time to return home and face the music.”

  “So what did happen to the rest of your crew, McCarthy?” Admiral Tobias asked, not even close to being convinced that Nigel was sincere. “Did you have them for dinner?”

  McCarthy cringed some knowing how close to the truth that statement was—if not for him, then the survivors of his pitiful crew. “I set them free. Some got medical attention, others were given passage on one of my other ships to the planet of their choice,” he lied. “I'm not sure any have returned to Earth, at least not yet.”

  “If it's known that they were part of your army of terrorists and murderers, I doubt if their homecoming would be that welcome.”

  “That’s what I hope to remedy with this mission, Admiral.”

  John Tindal stepped up to the six-foot-four-inch tall Brit, his own large stature equaling that of McCarthy's. “You know you're in the lion's den here, mate, and that if it wasn't for Riyad you'd be a frozen-solid lump of floating debris outside the ship right about now. Just do your fucking job ... and then we'll decide how to treat you after that.”

  “That's fair, Petty Officer Tindal," Nigel said, looking more penitent than any of them had ever seen him before. “I understand that only my actions will mean anything to you and the rest of your team. But
now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to the bridge and start our journey to Elision." Then he paused and offered a wicked-looking grin back at Tindal. “That, my friend, will be the real lion's den.”

  88

  The space around the Kracori homeworld of Elision was cluttered with spaceships of all makes and models, including dozens of Volseen vessels. Being the closest of the Nebula worlds to Elision, the Volsee were enthusiastic supporters of the Kracori against the ravenous Human invaders. For generations the two races had interacted, but only now was the association able to be revealed. A warlike race in their own right, the Volsee idolized the much stronger and experienced Kracori, envious of their near-assumption of complete control of the Expansion only a few short years before. They also knew it had been the Humans who spoiled the Kracori prospects of ruling the galaxy. And now the Humans were coming for them. They would be ready, offering everything in their arsenal to the Kracori to help defeat the creatures from Earth.

  At the time McCarthy secured the Volseen ship this new dynamic in the Nebula didn’t exist. He had simply been looking for a ship built by a race of beings he knew to be privy to the Kracori’s secret. With the planet’s whole-hearted alliance with the gray aliens, the job of maneuvering the Volseen ship into a close orbit above Elision was greatly enhanced. His was only one of many now adorning the space above Elision.

  The Formilian warriors had taken to the controls of the ship quickly, so McCarthy was able to leave the bridge and join the rest of the assault team in the rear landing bay. Seeing the four SEALs decked out in tactical gear from head to toe brought back a pang of nostalgia for the former SAS officer. He had spent eight years in the service before being abducted by the Klin, which was a lifetime of experience compared to most other professions. Looking back on it now, those were the best eight years of his life, even counting all his wild adventures in space.

  Adam Cain looked up when Nigel entered the bay, the monocular night-vision goggles strapped around the circumference of his Kevlar helmet. “You are coming with us, aren’t you?” Adam asked rather harshly. “You’re our guide on the surface.”

  “I was counting on it, Captain,” he replied as he lifted a gear pack off the bulkhead and began to pull out its contents. He could tell Cain thoroughly resented the fact that he had to rely on him for assistance; it was all McCarthy could do to keep from displaying his satisfaction with the situation. Anything to annoy the uppity Yank was fine by him.

  With quiet precision and professionalism, the now five special forces operatives went about preparing for their mission, even silently checking McCarthy’s gear to make sure all was in order. On the surface of the alien world, they would have only themselves to count on—including McCarthy. Each of the SEALs knew that the Brit had skills every bit the equal of their own, although you’d never hear them admit it. And having a member of the team with first-hand knowledge of the terrain only added to their confidence and determination.

  Soon they were boarding the shuttle. Adam walked over to Sherri who had been silently leaning against an outer pressure hull watching the team prepare.

  “I’m sorry you can’t come along,” he said to her in a whisper.

  “No you’re not,” she said, no trace of anger in her voice. “You were right. I would have only endangered the mission. You guys are pros at this.” And then she grinned. “But I do really like killing aliens.”

  “And you’re really good at it, too,” Adam said with an equally mischievous grin. But then the grin vanished. “I’m going to be sending out a continuous radio signal from my pack, allowing our ATD’s to stay in contact. I don’t want the Formilians to have this access, only you, otherwise my head will be cluttered with too many distractions. You’re to relay info to Trimen and his team. It looks like with all this added traffic from space to the surface we should be able to get down without too much trouble.” He then swept a hand over his gear. “But we won’t be able to get very far dressed like this. It’s important that the power go wacky as soon as we land. The longer we spend on the surface, the riskier it gets.”

  “Roger that, Captain, sir,” Sherri said with a smile, her eyes now looking warm and full of concern. “You be careful. And try to make sure you all get back in one piece—and with Riyad. Don’t try to do any hero shit while you’re down there.”

  “This mission is like none we’ve attempted while in space. This world has Earth-standard gravity with natives just as strong and tough as we are.” And then he smiled again. “It will be just like what we were trained for, without any special concessions. I always love a challenge.”

  “Yeah, five of you against an entire world of deadly aliens. I’d say that’s enough of a challenge—even for SEALs.”

  He gave a quick nod. “See you soon.” They embraced briefly, while sharing a passionate kiss. Adam Cain was the last to board the shuttle.

  89

  With Nigel McCarthy at the controls, the squat little shuttle shot out the back of the Volseen ship, did a steep turn to starboard and then headed straight down toward the surface of Elision. There were six seats behind the pilot seat where the rest of the team was located, affording them all a view out the forward viewport. They all watched in tense silence as the planet grew to engulf the entire view and wisps of clouds began to shoot across the window as turbulence rocked the small craft from side to side.

  Their destination soon became apparent as a massive city stretching nearly to the horizon began to form below. It was not a pretty city, even though it had towering spires and a mish-mash of roadways entwined throughout the metropolis. All the colors on the surface seemed muted; a pale gray like that found on a cloudy day back on Earth. What color there was came from the occasional green of trees and grasses that were rare within the city limits. From their vantage point, the Humans could see far off forests, small in size and separated by vast fields of what appeared to be ancient lava flows.

  From this first sighting, it was clear to the team that Elision was a harsh environment, and it was this bleak land that had spawned the gray Kracori. There was no joy or laughter in the landscape, only rugged pragmatism. The Kracori survived because that was what life did across the universe, yet no one ever said it had to be a pleasant experience.

  As they drew closer to the surface, McCarthy had to avoid other air traffic, and eventually he was challenged as to his destination.

  “Security equipment and personnel for the Citadel; we are anticipating an influx of prisoners once the Humans arrive.”

  “That may be the Volseen way, but we Kracori will take very few prisoners. That is simply a waste of resources.” The Kracori’s voice was as rough as his attitude.

  “That is true; however, we must strive to gain intelligence before eliminating those who are captured. That is our mission.”

  “Better you than us. Transponder code verified; proceed to Citadel landing zone two.”

  McCarthy cut the comm link without further acknowledgement. He cocked his head back toward the rest of the team. “The Citadel is where high-valued prisoners will be held. That was where Haden was kept. Tarazi will be there, too.”

  “You don’t suppose Haden’s still alive, do you?” Adam asked, referring to the former Juirean Elder whom McCarthy had captured and then transported to Elision as a prize for the Langril of the Kracori.

  “I very much doubt that. Although I never heard what became of him while I was there, the Kracori care only about Legend, and not about publicity regarding certain acts. Destroying Haden’s Legend through his death would have been good enough for the Langril without having to spread news of the event across the galaxy.”

  Adam had spent some time with the old, white-haired Overlord during his time on Juir. He found the alien to be a sad victim of circumstance, some of which from outside influences, but mostly of his own making. Haden had been duty-bound to do what he did in defense of the Expansion, including ordering the first attack on the planet Earth. Considering all the false information he had been
fed by the Klin, Adam would have done the same if he had been in Haden’s shoes. That still didn’t excuse the billion deaths that had resulted from the attack, but it did go a long way to making the Juirean out to be less of a cold-blooded monster for his actions. Adam had felt sorry for him when McCarthy loaded Haden in a spaceship and set off to deliver him to the Kracori. He could only imagine what a horrible fate awaited.

  And he was also sure it was pretty much the same fate that befell Riyad Tarazi, although his torture would be prolonged, waiting out the arrival of the Human fleet. And then the Kracori would make a spectacle of his execution, just to add an element of horror to the coming conflict: Fight the Kracori ... and you shall all meet a similar fate.

  The first thing Adam thought when he saw the Citadel from the air was how similar it looked to the Kremlin back on Earth. The oddly shaped capital building of the former Russian Federation–comprised of domes, spires and vibrant colors–had somehow survived both the Juirean and Kracori attacks on the planet. And now here was a near-perfect replica of the structure located some nine thousand light-years from Moscow.

  “Déjà vu, all over again,” Adam heard someone whisper from behind him, verifying that his impression was also shared by others on the team.

  “That’s a big place, McCarthy,” Adam said. “Where do you think Riyad’s being held?” It was night time on this side of Elision, yet even then the building was awash with spotlights and internal illumination.

  “On the north side is a smaller dome–you see it? That’s the security facility, the Kracori’s equivalent of Lubyanka Prison, if we’re sticking with Russian references. It’s much smaller of course, since the Kracori seldom imprison their own. Even then, political prisoners are the most common in Kracori society, and I’m sure they considered both Haden and Tarazi as political prisoners rather than prisoners of war per se.”