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

by T. R. Harris

  “You are wishing to contact an active military officer, through a CW-link, and you are a civilian, a Guild pilot?” the voice and demeanor of the Kracori on the screen seemed incredulous. “What is your business with this officer, Tel’oran?”

  Ruszel had been anticipating the question. “Now that Tel’or and Elision are allies against the invading Humans, I offer him a prize of incredible value. It is a Human starship capable of amazing speeds, much greater than any the Kracori possess ... and it can accomplish these speeds within stellar systems. Vice-Commander Dor witnessed a smaller version of this ship two months ago when he and I met at that time. I was hoping that he would allow me to deliver this gift to him personally. It will be the highlight of his career and a much needed boost to the security of the Nebula.”

  The gray Kracori communications technician on the screen looked confused. “That is a lot of information to be sharing, especially in light of the new openness we are attempting to establish with other races within the Nebula. Our comm links are overwhelmed at this time and there is no clear procedure for doing what you request. I can take your information and pass it along to my supervisor, yet there is no guarantee that you will receive a reply within a reasonable period.”

  Ruszel had dealt with admins from a variety of planetary governments for most of his adult life. Even though this was a Kracori he was speaking with, they all suffered from the same disorder, namely lack of imagination. Only when they could imagine themselves getting in trouble would they act.

  “I will require your name and contact information,” Ruszel said, hoisting a datapad from the console so the tech could see him begin to enter the data. “This vessel is a one-of-a-kind acquisition from the gravest enemy the Nebula has ever known and can offer an invaluable insight into the technology and weaponry of the Humans. I cannot maintain it for more than a few hours more before the Human spies who operate the craft will begin to look for it. At that time the opportunity for the Kracori to learn its secrets will be gone. I will not be held responsible for the loss of the single-most important piece of physical intelligence to ever come our way. The entire war effort could turn on the technology this craft will reveal, and yet we, as allies and co-inhabitants of the Silvean Nebula, could suffer a devastating defeat because the Humans possess this technology and we do not. And all of this could come about because you do not have a procedure in place to track down one Kracori vice-commander.”

  Ruszel paused to watch the technician blanch, as his stare bored into the dark eyes of the Kracori as best he could over a distance of eighteen light-years. “Again, I will need your name and contact information to provide at the coming inquiry.”

  “I do not know what you think I can do, Tel’oran?” the frazzled operator asked. “As I said, our communication protocols have not been established for such requests made outside the Kracori organization.”

  “Do you have access to military personnel records? Can you attempt to search the name of this vice-commander?”

  “Our systems are so linked. Yet that information is classified to outsiders.”

  “I am not seeking this information for myself, but so that you can locate the vice-commander and rely this information to him. I am sure that once he learns what I am offering, he will initiate all necessary protocols. And I can assure you, he and all the high command on Elision, will reward you for your exemplary efforts and perseverance. The relationship between the Kracori and the other planets within the Nebula is only days old. This singular act on your part could be forever remembered as a seminal event in the history of the Nebula.”

  The technician was shifting nervously in his seat. He reached over to another screen and began entering data. “I will do what I can, but there are no guarantees. I can access the military personnel records, and you may not realize this, but our entire society is built around the military. Nearly every Kracori of age is in the military database. Finding one particular officer could be imposs—oh, wait ... here he is. Vice-Commander Furlon Dor, Third Access Fleet, 2nd Brigade. He is presently assigned to Command Regiment Fourteen here in the capital.”

  “Do you have contact information?” Ruszel asked, astonished that the tech had actually come through. He risked a gaze off camera at the Human and the Formilian who were monitoring the conversation and raised an eyebrow in their direction. The Human female gave an odd gesture with her fingers where the digits were wrapped into the palm and the thumb was projecting upwards. The pilot looked away before the meaning of the gesture confused him enough that the tech would notice that he was not alone in the comm room.

  “Yes, I have a direct comm link for VC Dor. I will attempt to open the link, yet I believe it is best if you communicate to him what you are proposing. I am pretty confused by now as to just what you have in your possession.”

  “I would prefer that as well. I will remain on the link until you are successful.”

  It took the distraught comm tech a full ten minutes before he was able to locate Furlon Dor and convey enough of the subject matter to the vice-commander that he agreed to speak with Ruszel. When the stern, leathery face of the Kracori officer appeared on the screen, Ruszel did not recognize him; as a matter of fact, he was having trouble distinguishing any differences in the Kracori from one to the other. They all looked large, tough and perpetually angry.

  “You say we have met?” Dor literally growled at Ruszel through the CW comm link.

  “Yes, my Lord. Forgive me if that is not the proper greeting for a Kracori. I have not been informed as to the proper manner of respect.”

  “Commander will suffice.” And then the Kracori narrowed his eyes at Ruszel. “Yes, I do recall. You and your Tel’oran companion were on the ship where the Human spy was captured. That was a major event on Elision. There had not been another Human on our planet for over three years, or so I was informed. If memory serves me, I offered your freedom so you may prepare the Nebula for our eventual reveal. By that time the events of the previous few weeks had already been set in motion.”

  “My colleague and I are eternally grateful for your generosity that day, Commander. We truly believed we would suffer the same fate as the Human.”

  “If the Human threat had not already been identified, you would have,” the Kracori said, much to Ruszel’s chagrin.

  “Then we are even more fortunate,” Ruszel said with a slight tremor in his voice. “But now I am here to return the favor.”

  “Yes, what is this of a prize you offer ... some sort of spaceship?

  “Yes, the Humans have ships which employ an array of eight focusing rings in unison. It is technology beyond any in the Nebula possess, including the Kracori.”

  “That’s impossible,” the Kracori stated flatly. “That many focusing rings would be unmanageable and extremely dangerous.”

  “And yet you were on such a vessel only two months ago.”

  Furlon Dor hesitated while staring at Ruszel. “I seem to recall that the ship we found you and the Human on did have a particular gravity signature. It was unclassified at the time, so I did not think any more of it.”

  “That was a concentrated-array gravity-drive starship.”

  “And you are offering to turn over that ship to the Kracori?”

  “Not that ship, Commander, but one twice as large, and not to be turned over to the Kracori, but to you personally.”

  “Why would you do that?

  “You saved my life and you rescued my associate and me from the imprisonment of the Human. I wish to return that good fortune.”

  The Kracori continued to narrow his eyes at Ruszel. “And how have you acquired yet another Human starship of such advanced design?”

  “I was sought out and employed by yet another group of Human infiltrators all on account of my association with the Human spy you now have in custody. He is still among the living, I imagine? You did say at the time that he was to be used as propaganda against the Humans at the time of their invasion.”

  “I have not hea
rd the fate of that particular Human since I turned him over to the Security Directorate. Yet I have heard that possibly another set of Human infiltrators and saboteurs may have been captured recently. I believe this will be a more common occurrence as the time for their attack grows closer. Now what of this ship? Where are the Humans operating it?”

  “I believe some of them may be your new prisoners,” Ruszel offered. “There is only one other Human onboard and I have her subdued.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “We are within the Dysion Void, approximately eighteen light-years from Elision.”

  “I will send an escort.”

  “I could bring the ship to Elision and present it to you personally, for all your superiors to witness. Transit time in this vessel will be two hours.”

  Ruszel saw the look of shock on the face of the Kracori officer. Normal transit time for an eighteen light-year journey was approximately fifteen hours, depending on the gravity sources in the region. Even the largest deep space transports, operating within designated space lanes, would take four times as long as Ruszel’s estimate. The implication of such technology was just now beginning to dawn on the Kracori.

  “Yes, Commander,” Ruszel began, baiting the Kracori even more, “the technology from this spacecraft could revolutionize the Kracori fleet, making it the most-powerful in the galaxy. The other races of the Nebula now share the ambitions of the Kracori. We look forward to the time when our brothers from within the Nebula will rule the galaxy. We will share in the pride and glory of that moment.”

  “Yes, bring the ship to Elision immediately. I will transmit clearance codes and location coordinates. And yet you say this is Human technology? The Human fleet approaching Elision could be so equipped.”

  “It is my understanding from both sets of Humans who have employed me that this technology is used sparingly at this point. It may become more prevalent—if the Kracori do not stop the Humans first.”

  Ruszel could see the Kracori Vice-Commander growing anxious. “Proceed at your best possible speed to Elision, Ruszel. Your name is Ruszel; forgive me if I’ve forgotten.”

  “Yes, it is Ruszel. Ruszel Crin. And I will begin preparations for departure now. Please relay the access codes as soon as possible. I will be at Elision in a much shorter time than any of your current vessels could make the transit. I am sure when you see the ship you will be truly amazed at what it can do.”

  “I have every confidence that you are correct, Ruszel of Tel’or. What you do today will be remembered and will be of immense benefit to Tel’or, Elision and all the other worlds of the Nebula. You are to be commended for your patriotism and honor. Your Legend will be greatly enhanced.”

  Ruszel cut the link and leaned back in the comm chair, exhausted yet satisfied with the outcome of the long conversation. What had started out as a mere thread of an idea had blossomed into a full-blown plan, and all the pieces were falling into place.

  The Human female approached him with a wide grin. “You did a great job Ruszel; couldn’t have been better.”

  “I was surprised myself at how successful the plan has been.”

  And then it was the muscular Formilian’s turn to address him. There was no smile the Formilian’s face. “You did indeed do an excellent job. I just hope your loyalties remain with us and not your brothers within the Nebula, as you called them. I will be watching to assure your efforts are not part of a larger plan to escape our captivity.”

  Ruszel wasn’t intimidated by the alien. Instead, he looked the creature straight in the eye and said, “After what I have just done here I would expect you, and your associates, to no longer consider me a prisoner, but rather a colleague from now on.”

  “I would like nothing better than to do that, Ruszel. Unfortunately I cannot at this time.”

  “Then when?”

  “When the surviving members of our team are safely off Elision and are no longer in danger. At that point I might consider it.”

  102

  As a result of the mind-boggling immensity of space, it was fairly easy to hide a fleet of four thousand warships from detection. And with the enemies of Humanity monitoring the more-established deep space lanes for the passage of Earth’s massive warships, they were unaware that the Cain Drive-equipped ships had slipped past them and were now stationed on the outer side of the Dysion Shield.

  Another factor contributing to the fleet’s stealthy success was the fact that they were arriving a full three months before they were expected. Three months in the timeline of a battle plan was an eternity, so no scouts or spies recorded the presence of the invasion fleet, nor did they note the fifty-ship phalanx that approached the dense dust cloud and the circular arrangement of the craft. So when the Humans began to bore a clean hole through the treacherous debris field three thousand miles in diameter using the concentrated gravity wells of the ship’s generators, the work went quickly and with no distractions from the defenders of the Juddle Nebula.

  Intelligence was sketchy regarding the region beyond the Shield, even as the forces from Earth prepared to engage the enemy on their ground. Under normal circumstances, this practice would be amateurish and risky. Yet a few of the facts the planners were aware of made the risk acceptable.

  First was the recent revelation that only one major gap existed in the protective bubble that made up the Shield: the Volseen Corridor. This was where the Kracori would mount their concentrated defense and where the Juireans would focus their efforts to gain entry into the Void.

  Second was that the new gravity drive now incorporated into all the Human starships was capable of clearing a path through the Shield that was narrow enough not to be detected, unless one was looking specifically in that direction.

  And so the Human strategists had picked one of the most-isolated and obscure sections of the Shield and began the process of opening a pathway through which the fleet would enter the Void, undetected and in full strength. Even if they weren’t counting on the Juireans to weaken the Kracori defenses substantially, the plan would nearly guarantee success against an undamaged Kracori fleet.

  Jacob Nash carried the rank of Fleet Admiral, even though the rank did not officially exist within the structure of the new Earth Defense Force. Even his British rank of Admiral of the Fleet no longer applied yet was a fairly close match. Technically he was a full Admiral and the highest ranking officer in the fleet.

  No matter what his official title, Nash was the top-dog when it came to the four thousand starships clustered near the blazingly brilliant wall of the Shield. His flagship, The Trident, was positioned so close to the roiling mass of ejected stellar material that it covered the entire span of his view from the bridge. And one of the most curious features of the Shield was that it was still expanding at approximately thirty-six thousand miles per hour from its point of origin, requiring the fleet to be continually back-peddling to avoid being gobbled up by the debris cloud.

  Vice-Admiral Christian Bergmann stepped next to Nash’s command chair and the two officers shared a silent moment gazing out at the unbelievably massive structure outside the ship. Bergmann was the ship’s captain, and as such had his own command chair at the starboard side of the bridge.

  “Makes us all look small and insignificant, doesn’t it, Chris?” Nash said without taking his eyes from the viewport.

  “Yes, sir. It’s almost impossible to imagine something that big could exist. Did you know that even at this distance, the section of the Shield we can see here could hold a thousand Earths?”

  “Damn, that’s big. And here we are, not even the size of ants by comparison, attempting to impact the affairs of the galaxy.”

  “Waxing philosophical tonight, are we Admiral?” Bergmann said with a smile.

  Nash chuckled and broke his attention from the viewport. “Bloody well have to in the presence of that.” He then cast his gaze across the vast, ship-wide expanse of the nearly-deserted bridge. It was just past oh-three-hundred hours, and only the mid-watc
h was at their stations—along with the two highest ranking officers of the fleet.

  “How’s the boring coming along,” Nash asked, as he fought back an all-consuming yawn. The struggle only contorted his face into a palsy-like mask of hideous portions, and infected Bergmann a moment later with an unabashed yawn of his own.

  “Damn, it’s late,” he managed to say, his eyes now watery and his narrow face flushed from the effort. “The boring is coming along fine, Admiral. We’re nearly through and the opening appears to be holding. However, it won’t last for more than a day. I have follow-up ships in the tunnel now cleaning up the stray material that’s trying to fill the gap. We should be able to begin the transit in another four hours.”

  Nash noticed that Bergmann was taking an inordinate amount of pride in the progress of the boring ships. Even though he already had his considerable duties as captain of The Trident, Bergmann had insisted on supervising the boring operation himself. It was because of his name the vice-admiral had told him. In German, the root origin of the surname Bergmann came from the word for miner, and the fifty-two year-old German was in the process of creating the longest, widest tunnel ever constructed. When done, the opening through the Dysion Shield would be three thousand miles wide and sixteen million miles long.

  Nash marveled at Bergmann’s energy and enthusiasm. This was a common trait of nearly ever German he had ever met, even though technically the country of Germany no longer existed. Neither did England for that matter. Now the Earth was one big happy family ... simply Humans one and all.

  At least that was the goal. The peoples of the Earth still voluntarily segregated themselves into ethnic groupings. That was something impossible to overcome with a stroke of a pen. Yet Admiral Nash knew that as long as an enemy existed outside the planet, then they were all Humans at this moment in time, with no regard to race, nationality or even religion.

  Fighting aliens for a living had that effect on people.

  “Better try to get some sleep, Chris,” Nash told his subordinate. “Tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”