by T. R. Harris
“Adam Cain, your fleet is aligning for an attack upon my forces. We will defend ourselves.”
“It is your forces who have been stalking my fleet, Mr. Wydor,” Admiral Nash countered.
“Either way, we just to all need take a moment at think about this,” Adam said. “If the two of you fight, it will be that bastard Nomar who comes out the winner.”
“Nomar?” Nash asked.
“He is the Langril of the Kracori race—their leader,” replied Elder Wydor. Adam smiled. At least he had the two sides talking.
“That’s right,” said Adam. “So my question to you, Lord Wydor, is why have the Juireans allied with the Kracori against the Humans? It was the Kracori who destroyed Juir, not us.”
“We have not allied with the Kracori, Adam Cain. That would presume an equal status of our races. The Kracori surrendered to the Juireans. They have offered their services at our direction.”
“That’s not what Nomar is telling us. He’s saying you are allies, and together you will defeat the Humans. And yet, where are his forces now?”
“It was not our intent to confront the Humans when we came to the Nebula. And yet, you must admit, your race has designs on the destruction of the Juireans.”
“Just as the Juireans have on us.” Nash again countered.
“That may be so,” Wydor said through the link. “Yet that is simply a natural dynamic between two powerful entities. Each seeks to absorb the other.”
“Chemistry lessons aside,” Adam said, “whatever our differences, the natural culmination of that situation would come at a future date—”
“Unless it comes now,” Wydor interrupted.
“To what end, Lord Wydor? Your fleet is larger, yet ours is swifter. We will end up destroying each other. And then the Klin—who you have sought for over four thousand years—will survive. And the Kracori, the enemy of both our races, will emerge as the strongest military force in the galaxy. Do you want them assuming control of the Expansion?”
“Juireans are once more on Juir, Adam Cain,” Wydor said. “The Juirean people are more than this fleet. We will survive to counter the Kracori insurgency.”
“But why should you? Let us do it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Admiral Nash, your forces are fully capable of defeating the Kracori, even with a full fleet, are they not?”
“That’s what we came for.”
“And Lord Wydor, the Klin are directly in front of you. And from our information, there are twenty huge ships, not just the five you’ve been tracking. This may be all the Klin that are left. Are you prepared to let them escape while you fight a losing battle with the Humans?”
The speakers within the pilothouse of the Pegasus were quiet for an uncomfortably long time. Adam looked around the room at all the questioning eyes staring back at him. Damn, this is taking a while.
“Adam Cain ... and your Admiral Nash,” Wydor’s voice finally emerged from the speakers. “I will make you a proposal.”
“Go ahead,” said the voice of Fleet Admiral Nash.
“A ceasefire, as my forces pursue the Klin and your forces engage those of the Kracori—as Adam Cain has suggested. It is indeed more significant to the Juireans to defeat the Klin than anything else at this point in time. And we will accept as gratification of sorts that the Kracori will suffer at the hands of the Humans.”
“Admiral?” Adam said.
“I’m here Mr. Cain. I find the proposal acceptable, even though I wonder what is to keep the Juireans from attacking us after we’ve engaged the Kracori? Their defeat of the unarmed Klin ships will take little effort on their part. And after fighting the Kracori, our fleet would be vulnerable to a Juirean counter strike.”
“Spoken as a true warrior, Admiral Nash,” Wydor replied. “I understand your trepidation and would feel the same if the roles were reversed. So as an amendment to my last proposal, I offer half my fleet as a supplement to yours as you go to meet the Kracori. With such assistance, your fleet will not suffer as many losses, and yet my fleet will to some degree. I feel that is an equitable arrangement.”
Adam raised his eyebrows and looked to an equally-startled Admiral Andy Tobias.
“Lord Wydor,” Nash began, “I find your offer more than generous. We would have to work out the logistics—command structure and the like—but I believe that would work from our perspective. But how will your units feel about working with the Humans?”
“I am the Elder of the Juirean Council Elite, Admiral Nash; they will do as they are instructed.” Adam could almost hear the smile in Wydor’s voice.
“Then it’s settled!” Adam announced. “Now if you will both stand down your forces, maybe I can return to the fleet for a hot meal and beer.”
“It is agreed,” said Elder Wydor.
“Roger that, Captain. Proceed to docking. First round is on me.”
“The progress is very slow, Pleabaen,” the Klin on the screen was saying. “The path through the Shield can be cleared ahead of a pod, but then the orbits of other material is altered to fill the void and to also assault the pod. Another will be required to follow closely behind to keep the path clear.”
The glory of the Dysion Shield was evident in all its brilliance from the observation deck of the pod Wesselian Velsum was aboard. Even though he couldn’t see it from here, he knew that the first pod in the Colony was now slowly working its way through the Shield. And yet as the technician on the screen had related, the pod was taking considerable damage to its rear as more material was being drawn in by the enormous depth of the gravity-well required to move the massive spacecraft.
“Then send Twelve in behind. This passage is a learning experience for us all, and we must apply our new knowledge as it is acquired.”
“I will order it so.” The screen went blank.
Even though the going was slow and treacherous, Velsum was still feeling extremely energetic and pleased with himself. The bulk of his Colony had met no hostile forces on their approach to the Shield, and even now, there was news that Senior Fellow Huriniss’s five pods were now clear of their Juirean pursuers and due on station momentarily.
The last report Huriniss had made did indicate that the Juirean and Human forces had made contact and were positioning for an engagement. The five remaining elements of his Colony had proceeded out of the area on maximum drive and were now well clear of the combat zone.
Velsum tried to visualize the incredible energies now passing through space as the mighty fleets collided. It would be the largest single space battle to ever take place in the galaxy. And they would destroy each other, taking with them to the grave their knowledge of the Klin Colony. The Klin would live—as they had always lived—and would continue to plan for a time when they would assume their rightful place within the universe. The Klin had started it all, only to have their birthright stolen from them by the Juireans. And now those same Juireans were paying the ultimate price for their—
The datapad in Velsum’s hand chimed. Annoyed with the interruption of his fantasy musings, he pressed the connect button.
“What is it?” It was uncommon for the Pleabaen to sound so annoyed to others of his race.
“Extreme emergency, Pleabaen!” the excited voice cried out through the datapad. “There is a large force closing on our station.”
“Large force; has it been identified?”
“Yes, they are Juirean, and Senior Fellow Huriniss is just now reporting his pods are coming under fire.”
What has happened? What happened to the glorious battle taking place between the Juireans and the Humans?
Velsum had little time to contemplate.
“Order all pods through the Shield, with two providing clearing duties, while the rest proceed through the middle of the opening.”
“The two leading pods will surely take destructive damage.”
“So be it. Then replace them with others,” Velsum shouted, which was a total departure from Klin decorum. “If
some pods do not make it through, then the entire Colony dies here.”
“Understood, Pleabaen.”
Velsum saw the stars around him begin to shift slightly, as the pod he was in began to move toward the Shield. He would have to vacate the observation dome soon since it was evident most pods would suffer terrible damage during the transit. Yet that was preferable to facing the unrelenting firepower of the Juirean fleet.
And as the incredible flood of emotions flowed through the Pleabaen, he could envision a future where no Klin made it through the Shield; another where the Juireans blasted half a million Klin into oblivion. So now, out of desperation, Velsum called out to the souls of his ancestors, that with whatever powers they may possess on another plane of existence, they could see fit to spare at least some of his pods. He knew it was much to ask, and even if some did manage to make it through the Shield, their numbers would be so diminished that it would take another thousand years to replenish their population to even current levels within the galaxy.
His depression was almost debilitating, and yet Wesselian Velsum could not succumb, not until he did everything in his power to save his race from extinction.
126
Nomar Polimic was furious. He had sent all he had against the lone starship containing his nemesis, and yet still Adam Cain had escaped. Now Kracori forces were scattered throughout the region and that was causing a new problem for the beleaguered Kracori Langril.
Command-Tactician Galix stood before Nomar’s desk, even more upset with him than normal, having had his forces commandeered at the whim of the Langril. He glared at Nomar from across the desk in the military command center.
“Your obsession with this Human borders on the insane, Nomar.”
The Kracori Langril had given up trying to get Galix to respect him and his office, yet even then the Tactician was becoming more insubordinate and belligerent by the hour. The Langril was no idiot. He knew that his Legend was at considerable risk for the course he had chosen for his people. Yet he also knew he would find salvation when the Humans arrived and the Kracori’s new allies—the Juireans—rose to their defense. After that—after the Kracori race was saved from extinction—he would face whatever consequences that may come from his surrender tactic. Hopefully his people would praise him for the difficult decision he had reached so that his race could survive. There would be no middle ground; either he would be revered or reviled—or dead.
“It has been three days now, Tactician. Just gather your forces and set your sights on the main Human threat. I accept the fact that Adam Cain has escaped once more, so I am ready now to redirect my focus. Have the Juireans found a safe place to await the arrival of the Humans?”
“I do not know. My units have been too busy chasing your phantom Human to make a proper reconnaissance.”
“No communications?”
“None. The Juireans left, and except for our relaying of information and status reports to them, we have heard nothing back.”
“Is that not strange?”
“Not in the relationship of master to slave, as you have entered the Kracori into.”
“The deed is done, Galix. Why can you not accept that?”
“I do accept it. That is why I am so upset.”
“Let us not fight the last war, Tactician. And for all your protestations, the Juireans are now sided with the Kracori. That is preferable to them being aligned against us—as it was before I acted.”
“We shall see how long it takes the Juireans to break their word—”
Galix’s wrist comm buzzed. Welcoming the distraction, he answered it immediately, electing to establish the link between the device and his translation bug, keeping the incoming side of the conversation private—even from the Langril.
Nomar could see the Command-Tactician blanch, his face assuming a look of stoic dimensions. “Acknowledged,” was all Galix said. He pressed the cancel button on the device.
“What is it, Galix,” Nomar commanded, concerned with the odd expression on the Tactician’s face.
“That did not take even as long a time as I suspected.” He shifted his entire intense, hate-filled glare onto Nomar. “Massive enemy forces have been detected a mere five light-years from here and moving fast. An analysis of the gravity signatures of the approaching fleet show it is comprised of the uniquely Human signatures of their extremely swift ships—”
“The Humans are here?”
“Yes, Nomar,” Galix confirmed, even more upset with the interruption than normal, “And yet also detected within this fleet are the gravity signatures of your allies ... the Juireans.”
Nomar’s small mouth fell open. He must not have heard the Tactician correctly: Human and Juirean signatures? That could not be possible. Nomar could only offer a stammer as a reply.
“It is true, Langril Nomar Polimic. The Juireans and the Humans have united, and their forces are now about to strike at Elision. So much for your powers of negotiation and persuasion … you have now surely brought about the final demise of the Kracori Legend.”
127
So as to not confuse established chains of command, the Human and Juirean elements of the newly combined fleet chose to operate more or less autonomously, although overall command was awarded to Fleet Admiral Jacob Nash. Overlord Oplim ra Duric—an ancient name and heritage within Juirean society—was given command of the smaller Juirean contingent, while Wydor and Command-Overlord Enulic continued in pursuit of the Klin. Rank had its privileges, and the destruction of hundreds of thousands of Klin was something not to be missed by the two highest ranking officials within the Juirean contingent.
As the Human and Juirean fleet elements neared the Elision star system, they detected a line of a thousand Kracori warships forming just beyond the outer-most planet, a gas giant called Ricnornan. These ships were remnants of the much larger thirty-five hundred vessel fleet that had awaited the arrival of the Juireans days earlier, which was now scattered about the region, some having been called away to search for Adam Cain. A desperate call now went out from Elision for all ships—merchant and warships—to return to the system at their best possible speed for an all-out defense of their homeworld. Command-Tactician Galix and his staff saw the massive fleet of seven thousand starships approaching and knew that even with every available starship—including the Nebula defenders—the odds were greatly against them staving off total defeat.
Even then the Kracori warriors were not to be taken lightly, and their tactics and strategies rivaled any within the galaxy. Even at a seven-to-one disadvantage, the Legend of the Kracori did not let them succumb to fatalism. The thousand ships would be lost—that was a given—yet their sacrifice would provide time for other units further in-system to mount a more effective defense.
The two allied fleets split the Kracori defenders in half, with the Juireans approaching from around Ricnornan. The Kracori turned to face the nearly twenty-five hundred Juirean warships.
When facing a much larger force, the Kracori knew it was best to attack at the flanks, where fewer guns could be brought to bear. So using the huge planet as a shield to one side, the Kracori attacked from starboard, bunching up the Juireans between them and the conflicting gravity of the gas giant. The huge Class-4’s and -5’s fought to maintain well-integrity so close to the planet, which served to narrow the battlefield even more, and the Kracori strategy worked initially. The forces facing each other were at near-parity, yet the Kracori gunners were quicker on the trigger. Within a few minutes, over four hundred Juirean warships had either exploded or sent drifting helplessly as a result of crippling flash-fire, with some now caught in the deadly grip of the huge planet’s gravity well.
Even then, the Kracori were taking unsustainable losses. The Juireans were willing to take considerable casualties of their own, if only to whittle the defenders down to a more manageable level.
From his vantage point aboard The Trident, Fleet Admiral Jacob Nash watched with concern as the Juirean loses grew. He knew they w
ould eventually be victorious, however, if the full Kracori fleet had been available for this first engagement, he had no doubt that the entire Juirean contingent would have been lost.
As the Juirean share of the battle was winding down, Nash knew this did not bode well for the excursion further into the system, where more defenders would be waiting. For that engagement, the Juireans would become a non-factor. So for all intents and purposes, it would the Humans—and the Humans only—facing the brunt of the Kracori forces.
To Nash’s delight, his own units were having a much easier time with their half of the Kracori defenders. The Kracori had attempted the same containment strategy against the Humans as they had with the Juireans. Yet with the added speed of the Human ships, the strategy wasn’t working. Rather, it was the Kracori who ended up being contained.
With no answer to the amazing speed of the smaller Human flying saucers, the five hundred Kracori defenders ended up fragmenting their own line as they reached out to engage the Humans. Yet instead of contacting the enemy, the Humans pulled away even further. The Kracori continued to follow, and soon they were a thinly diffused remnant of the more concentrated and organized sister force confronting the Juireans. And then the Humans swept in. With no solid line of defense, each Kracori ship was suddenly surrounded by four or five Human attackers. Staunchly, the Kracori raised their shields and charged their flash cannon.
But then the Humans unleashed a coordinated barrage of gravity-assisted guided missiles, not flash cannon. As the target tracks approached, the Kracori technicians tried desperately to analyze the strange weapons. They carried electronics within their signatures, yet they were not energy weapons per se. The alien officers had only seconds to realize that their diffusion shields would not stop the missiles. The sad conclusion was soon verified as ship after ship was struck without so much as a hesitation from the missiles as they passed cleanly through the shields. The hundreds of resulting explosions lit up a million miles of space surrounding the battlefield.