by T. R. Harris
“So it’s been a tough few months for you? I was concerned when I heard that an old geezer like you had hitched a ride with Adam Cain. He always seems to end up smack dab in the middle of some big-time shit.”
Andy Tobias laughed. “That’s putting it mildly. But it looks like we may be on the downhill slide. You guys got here ahead of schedule, didn’t you?”
“The refit to the Cain Drives—see what I mean, even our new engines are named after him! The refit took less time. I’d say we’re a good two months ahead of schedule.”
“Couldn’t have come at a better time.”
Fleet Admiral Jacob Nash suddenly turned serious. “Yeah, let’s get down to brass-tacks, Andy.” Nash moved behind his desk and took out a notepad and pen. Tobias sat in a chair on the other side of the desk and finished his drink. “So the huge spaceships we’re following belong to the Klin? We originally thought they were some secret weapon that the Kracori were waiting to spring on us or the Juireans.”
“They may still be. The breakaway group is heading straight for Elision.”
“Yeah, and each of those ships is like a small Deathstar. You would think they would have turned on us by now.”
“I was talking to Cain about that and it’s his opinion that the Klin ships don’t carry much firepower. They’ve never had to; others have done the dirty work for them.”
“So what are they doing here?”
“Camping out, under the protection of the Kracori, I would imagine. Big colony ships where most—if not all—of their population resides. Remember, both races have warrants out on them. Only makes sense that they would gravitate to one another. And they did just gang up on us for that f-ing nuke attack on Earth.”
Nash made some notes and then shook his head. “This has actually screwed up some of our planning, Andy. We were counting on slipping into the Void unseen and then hanging out until the Juireans and the Kracori slugged it out. Not sure how the knowledge of our presence here is going to affect that battle.”
“Any updated intel yet?”
“Not yet. The scouts are about a day out from reaching the theater of operations.”
“If the Kracori leader’s timetable was followed, as Cain related, the Juireans should already be hurting pretty badly. And I don’t care what that Nomar character said, the Kracori have to suffer major casualties as well.”
“In a worst case scenario we’ll face a near-full strength Kracori force. We’re prepared for that. It’s this surprise element of the Klin that has me worried. It wouldn’t take much to tip the battle one way or the other.”
“I suppose the one ace we have up our sleeve is the Cain Drive.”
“In more ways than one, Andy,” Nash said with a serious look on his face.
“How’s that, Admiral?”
“If things get dicey, we can sure beat a quick retreat.”
114
Command-Tactician Galix was waiting at the landing zone when Nomar’s ship returned. Once the heat from the chemical exhaust cleared, he stepped up to the entrance hatch. The Langril had already relayed the news of the accepted surrender to his senior military officer; Galix had absorbed the news with very little comment. Yet Nomar hadn’t told him everything.
“Where is former-Langril Daninf? Galix asked as he accompanied his leader to a waiting transport.
“The Juireans kept him. He is to be made the symbol for our attack on Juir and pay the ultimate price.”
“We were all involved, my Ludif. I was Command-Tactician at that time and you were on the Council.”
“The Juireans do not need to be aware of that; and I am confused as to what you are intimating?”
“Forgive me, my Ludif, I am still in a mild state of shock over what has just transpired. Your plan may have saved the Kracori at this time, yet what guarantee do we have that the Juireans will keep their word? And then we have the populace to contend with.”
Nomar cringed. Yes, he had glossed over the Council Elder’s question about the Kracori population and how they would react to the news of the surrender. He had made it out to be so simple. Theoretically, it should be; the Kracori people have no choice if they wish to survive. And yet Nomar knew there would be resistance—major resistance. However, the one consolation he could take from the current status quo with the Juireans was it would free up most of his military forces to help quell any civil uprising here on Elision.
“I have just received word that Lord Huric’s fleet has met no resistance, and that landings are taking place as we speak.” Command-Overlord Enulic’s excitement could barely be contained.
Wydor shared his emotions. Juireans were once more standing upon the surface of Juir. And yet he had seen the reports. The planet was not the same one they had abandoned ten years before. It was now a cold, desolate wasteland. Even though tenacious trees and other vegetation were recovering, it would still take a generation for the climate to return to even somewhat normal tolerances. Life on Juir would be tough until then, and yet it would be done. The Juireans were home.
“Where are we at the moment, Enulic?”
“Nearing two parsecs beyond Elision; the Shield is another three from here. I have selected a location near the barrier where we may lie in wait for the Humans.”
Enulic then paused, a question covering his face.
“What is it, Enulic? You may speak freely,” Wydor said.
“Do you truly intend to honor these surrender terms? Even now we are preparing to assist the Kracori in defending their homeworld, which is ironic in light of their history with Juir.”
“I understand, Lord Enulic. And the life of a single Kracori leader—former leader—will not satisfy the blood-lust of the race for vengeance. Yet you must admit, Nomar’s proposal has appeared to meet most, if not all, of our most pressing issues. It also affords us the opportunity to diminish the influence of the Humans on the affairs of the Expansion, and without having to mount an immediate and long-distance campaign against Earth.”
“You may have as much of a public relations problem as Nomar, my Lord.”
Wydor actually let out an audible laugh, something rarely heard from an adult Juirean. “That I very much doubt, Lord Enulic. I truly believe that the Langril’s term in office will be coming to an end very soon, and at that point it may become necessary for us to amend the terms of the agreement. The future is in flux, Enulic, yet it is the Juireans who are now in control—as it should be. Be content in knowing that there is a very good chance that the Kracori race does not last much beyond the present.”
Wydor relaxed back in his satisfied reverie as Overlord Enulic took an incoming link over his wrist comm. The moment didn’t last long as Enulic concluded his link: “Our forward units have detected fast-moving ships directly ahead,” Enulic reported.
“How many? Source?”
“Only two, spread over a wide vector; origin unknown.”
“Is there more to report; you appear worried.”
“The vessels are traveling at five times our maximum speed, and the track they follow is from deep within the Void, away from Elision.”
“I understand your concern, Lord Enulic. We must endeavor to avoid these ships; their gravity-wells must be highly disruptive.”
“Curiously, my Lord, they are not. I must leave now to investigate further. I am placing the fleet on full alert.”
“Very good, Command-Overlord. I wish to assume my presence on your bridge.”
“As you wish.”
115
“Holy crap! Do you see that, Steve?”
“How can I miss it? That looks like a whole damn fleet.” Lieutenant Steve Kimball couldn’t take his eyes off his regional scan screen, now alight with hundreds—if not thousands—of contacts. The pilot of the other scout ship, Lieutenant Junior Grade Evan March, and he were in direct comm link, aboard two of the swift-effect scouts sent out ahead of the fleet. Two other scouts were also on patrol, but they hadn’t reported the mass of contacts—not yet.
&n
bsp; “They’ve seen us! We were right on top of them before we knew it,” Kimball continued.
“This wasn’t what we were expecting to run into,” March said in their defense. “I’m dumping a burst to the fleet, then we’ve gotta get out of here.”
“I’m seeing about thirty contacts breaking my way; the same for you!” Kimball pulled the stick over and made a wide loop—made wider by the incredible speed at which he was traveling.
“In-coming!” March cried out, himself in a wide bank away from the cluster of contacts. “Shit!”
The spread of deadly flash bolts closed off the loop that March was executing. He tried to compensate, yet it was too late. The bolts were designed to penetrate the defenses of huge capital ships, so they made quick work of March’s lightly-armored scout.
Lt. Kimball saw the green contact light wink out on his board, yet he didn’t have time to mourn the loss of his friend, not if he was to avoid suffering the same fate. He dumped a burst link to the fleet as well, and then rather than line up directly with the Human fleet, he bolted out at a forty degree vector, plus-twenty. He was a scout, and the last thing he wanted to do was lead this massive alien force to back to his own. If he was lucky, they would follow him, allowing the Humans to approach this hostile fleet on their six.
Yet as Lt. Kimball watched the view-encompassing pale pink glow of the Shield spread out before him—a constant in any direction one looked within the Void—he knew that the presence of this many apparently active and undamaged starships within the area meant that plans would have to be revised. They were not supposed to be here.
“This is not a drill, General Quarters, General Quarters! All hands man your battle stations!” The GQ claxon shocked Adam out of a light slumber in the small officer’s stateroom he’d been assigned.
The accommodations aboard The Trident were not the best—nor the worst—he’d experienced, but space aboard the starship was limited. The giant flying saucer was operating so far from any possible friendly base that every square inch aboard had to be used for critical missions. And sleeping arrangements weren’t deemed as critical a mission as others.
Wearing one of the new steel gray uniform pants and white tee shirt, he quickly slipped on his shoes and stepped out into the passageway. He was so new to the ship that he had yet to be assigned a GQ station, so he stood for a moment wondering which direction to go.
Just then the door to another of the small staterooms opened down the passageway and Riyad Tarazi stepped out. He was wearing matching pants but was bare-chested and carrying a tee shirt. He stopped abruptly in the doorway when he saw Adam—his mouth forming an ‘O’—while someone ran into him from behind.
“What the fuck, Riyad!” a female voice cried out. And then Sherri Valentine shoved her way around him, buttoning up her steel-gray blouse as she did.
The three of them stood in stunned silence staring at one another....
Just then more sailors began to fill the passageway; Adam was forced to join a group heading forward, while Riyad and Sherri chose to go aft. With his mind slightly numb, Adam found himself entering the CIC. There was a professional, yet frenetic buzz filling the space, although it still took Adam another moment or two to focus on his surroundings.
What had he just seen? Was it what it looked like?
A pair of hands was placed on his shoulders and Captain Adam Cain was gently pushed out of the way. “Excuse me sir, but I need this station,” said the petty officer 2nd class.
“Oh, sorry,” was all he managed to say.
“Captain, glad you’re here,” a voice said off to his right. His eyes were just now adjusting to the dimness of the CIC and he recognized Admiral Christian Bergmann.
“Thank you, sir; what’s going on?”
“Scouts just picked up a massive fleet heading this way coming from the Elision region.”
It took Adam a moment for the news to sink in. I really need to concentrate!
“Kracori?”
“Unknown at this point; the techs are analyzing the burst data that just came in. We should have a reading on the grav-sigs pretty soon. Care to join me on the bridge?”
The bridge of The Trident was a study in organized chaos. There were uniformed sailors darting back and forth, and yet everyone seemed to know where they were going and what they had to do. Fleet Admiral Jacob Nash was just now slipping into his command seat at the portside of the bridge and noticed Adam and Bergmann enter from the CIC.
“Best laid plans....” he said as the two officers approached his station. “This thing is huge, and apparently fully intact.”
All three scanned the data streams crossing the various screens in front of them. None of this made sense, Adam thought. There shouldn’t be an intact fleet this size operating within the Void—except that of the Humans.
“Preliminary readings are in, sirs,” a chief petty officer called out from a nearby workstation. “Sigs match those of Juirean capital ships. Estimated fleet size over four thousand vessels.”
“Roger that, Chief,” Bergmann acknowledged. Then both the admirals turned to stare at Adam.
“The Kracori and Nebula forces were set to strike the Juireans just as Sherri—Ms. Valentine—initiated her rescue maneuvers, sir. After that all hell broke loose. But this ... this doesn’t make sense. This appears to be the entire Juirean fleet.”
“That’s exactly what it is, Captain,” Nash said sternly. “How they got past the defenders is anyone’s guess, but right now they’re here and heading straight for us.”
“How could they have known—”
“One scout reported lost, Admiral,” said the chief. “Eyes three, two and four are scrambling. Lt. Kimball and the others are attempting to lead the fleet away from our location.”
“Plot the location of the main fleet and put it on the board, Chief. Let me know the moment we learn if Kimball’s plan is working.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Well, this changes everything,” Bergmann said turning his attention back to the other two officers. “With Kimball and his scouts scrambling, we’re going to lose any reliable eyes we have out there. And if the Juireans have emerged from that pending clash at the head of the Corridor unscathed, what’s the state of the Kracori fleet?”
“Chris, get my senior staff to my ready room in ten minutes with all the data they can gather about the capabilities of both fleets. We’ll have to rework our game plan, and apparently on a grand scale.”
“Admiral Nash, let me take the Pegasus back toward Elision,” Adam said. “I know the lay of the land better than anyone—even though that’s not saying much. We need to know the status of the Kracori fleet and what really happened at the Corridor.”
“Go, Captain,” Nash said without hesitation. “Without competent intel, it’s going to be hard to continue with this mission. Contingency plans had us going up against an intact Kracori defense, but never against two fleets. And then the Klin are mucking things up, too. I need intel, Cain; get it for me.”
“Will do, sir.”
Adam nearly sprinted from the bridge and headed back to his stateroom. He would grab his gear and commandeer a shuttle for the flit out to the Pegasus. Presently, there were four aliens residing aboard the small starship. Now Adam ran through his mind who else he needed to bring on the flight. Admiral Andy Tobias would be one, as would the Master Chief. And Sherri and Riyad? They would insist on going, but in light of the encounter in the passageway, Adam wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. He knew he shouldn’t let personal factors weigh in his decision, but that was easier said than done.
Seeing that this was simply a reconnaissance mission, he opted not to call them. Instead, he called Tobias and Rutledge from his stateroom and then headed for the landing bay.
What he hadn’t counted on was that Sherri and Riyad would be with Tobias when he made his brief call. By the time Adam reached the landing bay, all four of the others were there—including Riyad and Sherri.
Adam notic
ed a concerned look on Riyad’s face, yet Sherri was livid. “You were just going to cut us out? What’s wrong with you, dickhead; we’re a fucking team.”
“It’s just a quick in and out for intel. We’re not going to be engaging anyone.”
“I don’t care,” Sherri said as she snatched up her go-bag and began to step on the shuttle.
“You have a lot to learn about chain-of-command and command protocols, Valentine!” Adam yelled after her.
“Like I said, I don’t care,” was the echoed reply from inside the shuttle.
Riyad stepped up to Adam. “I’d really like to go, too, my friend,” he said sheepishly.
Adam sighed deeply. “Get onboard, but we’ll probably have to send some of the aliens back with the shuttle. The Pegasus wasn’t built for a crew of nine.”
There was a moment of eye contact between the two men, as they both understood that crew capacity of the Pegasus had nothing to do with Adam’s decision not to call him.
There was a look of extreme sadness on the face of Riyad Tarazi.
“We’re going!” Jym said as he bounded toward Adam. “And we have the ATD’s. They might come in handy.”
The little bear was right. He, Kaylor and Trimen still had functioning ATD’s under their skin—as did Sherri Valentine. And although Adam wasn’t expecting any actual combat where the artificial telepathy devices might be needed, he did see a need for the communications capabilities of the units.
He turned to Ruszel Crin.
The Tel’oran looked at all the other eyes staring at him. “Well, I do know the politics of the Nebula better than all of you. And if what you say is true about a pending clash between the Human and Juirean fleets, then being out with you, Adam Cain, may prove to be the safer course to take. I will go.”