by T. R. Harris
Before long, Adam Cain, super-Human, was sound asleep in the chair and snoring loudly, while a menagerie of aliens walked past him with looks ranging from curiosity to disgust. They’d been ordered to have no interaction with the Human, a species many aboard recognized as one of the big-four races within the Expansion. The order would be obeyed, so Adam slept, even as a smallish, bear-like creature came and placed a light blanket on him to keep him warm.
Several hours later, Adam Cain left the lounge area and returned to his stateroom for a wake-up shower. While in the shower, attendants entered his room and confiscated his clothing, leaving only a bright orange tunic for him to wear. As he recalled, no other creature aboard the ship wore such an outfit, so this was Kroekus' way of announcing to the crew, ‘Here’s the bad guy.’
A summons came for him a few moments later for him to meet with Kroekus in his private chambers. Adam welcomed the opportunity, knowing full well that the inflated ego of the alien wouldn’t let him remain mute on his plans for very long.
Adam needed more information so he could work on a plan of his own. The last seven hours had been a bust; the alcohol hadn’t served its intended purpose of opening the spigots to his creative mind; it never did. However, it did allow him to sleep, a deep, healing sleep that would now have him meeting Kroekus with a refreshed mind and body—a body that nearly healed now from the ravages of his time spent on Ralic-Sim. Dealing with the alien one-on-one was always a challenge, since there was no denying his intelligence and abilities. Adam would have to be on his game. It was even money that Kroekus would be.
Kroekus of Silea had always been a study in contrasts. Born into wealth and power, he had gone on to acquire even more of both on a scale never before seen in the galaxy. First he took advantage of the fall of the Juirean Expansion to create his own currency, backed by the largest supply of gold in history. Next he wrangled his way into becoming the day-to-day administrator of the Expansion under Human rule, since the neophyte aliens had very little experience running a galaxy-wide empire.
Yet his true power came when the Humans abdicated their rule of the Expansion and returned to Earth and the Far Arm to carve out their own mini-Expansion a little closer to home. Kroekus assumed full control of the Expansion at that time, becoming the only creature other than a Juirean to ever hold that position at a dictatorial level. Even though his official title was that of Administrator, everyone knew he owned the Expansion, lock, stock and barrel.
For a period of five years, Kroekus of Silea was the absolute ruler of the galaxy—right up to the time Adam Cain took him by the throat and turned him over to the Juireans to answer for high crimes and not-so-misdemeanors against the other races of the Expansion.
Yet throughout it all, Kroekus never flaunted his wealth or power. Instead he lived modestly and approached his job as Emperor in a workmanlike manner. Wealth and power were nothing new to him; he was simply a collector of both.
And so it came as no surprise when Adam found the private chambers of the former ruler of a galaxy to be not much larger than the stateroom he’d been assigned, or that the appointments were basic and functional.
Kroekus smiled and considered Adam for a long moment as he entered. “Orange is your color, Adam. It brings out the depth in your blue eyes.”
“According to what the rest of your crew is wearing these days, it’s either ahead of its time or behind, I don’t know which.”
“Once our brief interlude is completed, I’m sure it will be all the rage—in vogue as you call it. But for now, only you and your pet will be sporting the fashion this season.”
Adam smiled. “You sure are an expert on Humans and our ways, aren’t you?”
“It pays to know one’s enemy, even better than they know themselves. Take a seat, relax. You and I—more than any two beings aboard—have a history together, one that stretches over many years. I feel as if we are family of sorts.”
“Well then, bro, how about not killing me at the end of all this?”
“Maybe you should have thought about that before you turned me over to the Juireans.”
Adam sat down in an over-sized chair across from the suffering couch where Kroekus now sat. Even though the alien had lost a lot of weight in the Juirean prison, he still weighed over four hundred pounds. Adam still had to smile from the memory of when he learned that Silean males grew to such proportion because, with their increase in weight, also came an increase in the size of their sex organ. It was one of the things about Sileans Adam truly envied.
He shook his head to clear it of the thought. “So why did you side with the damn Kracori in the first place, Kroekus? They would have replaced you as head of the Expansion, too, if they’d gained control.”
There was that billowing alien laugh again. “I did not side with them. As a matter of fact, I didn’t side with anyone. All the combatants in the Dysion Void were supposed to lose. The forces were in such parity that a mutual destruction was guaranteed. None of you were supposed to emerge intact. That would have left me alone at the top and with no superpower nipping at my ankles.”
“Well, as they say, the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.”
Kroekus laughed again. “That is one I will have to remember! And it is so true. And seeing that your new companion resembles a gargantuan Earth mouse, I would say that is very appropriate.”
Adam was through with the friendly banter. “So what’s your next move, Kroekus? Are we meeting up with Nigel pretty soon, or what?”
The expression on the fat face changed abruptly. “Unfortunately, that is not to be the case. With the news I have just recently received, my journey to Anicett will have to be delayed.” The alien’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Adam and he shook his head slightly. “And, of course, I have you to thank for this.”
Adam was truly at a loss as to what he meant. What could Adam have done to upset his plans?
“I don’t get it? What have I done—”
“Ralic-Sim, or have you already forgotten?”
“What does that have to do with you?”
There was a bowl of cooked meat sitting on the table in front of Kroekus; he leaned forward and picked out a large piece before placing it whole in his mouth. Seeing Adam watch him, he said, “I have a lot of weight to regain, thanks to you. You are welcome to some yourself. It’s jeclen, quite good, and similar to beef on your world.”
“I’ll pass. As you were saying….”
Kroekus inhaled another large piece of the brown meat before continuing. “You, as a military professional, must know that even a ship of this size and power cannot conquer a galaxy on its own. Even though there is a second vessel soon to arrive, I still need a much larger force in order to subdue resistance and to exert control over a vast expanse. For that I enlisted the help of the Polimor Lord, a compliant being named Dakken Mor.”
Adam grimaced, knowing now where the conversation was leading.
“That’s right,” Kroekus said. “The same Dakken Mor who died as you were making your escape from Balic-Mor—a city, by the way, named after him.”
“Sorry about that,” Adam said. “I really didn’t intend to destroy a whole city.”
“That’s not what’s important. What does matter is that Dakken had not let many of his subordinates in on our little secret. He was building a fleet of warships, the first fleet of its kind in Tanic, which we were to use against the other Clans. Now his officers are taking it upon themselves to gain control of this secret fleet for their own purposes. None know who I am or that it was I who financed most of the cost of building the fleet. That was information Dakken kept to himself for fear that knowledge of outside help and influence could weaken his political position within the Clan.”
“Damn, that does sound like a mess.”
“It is, and now I have to find a way of educating these rogue officers as to who really owns their fleet. And I am operating under a strict deadline for doing this, again thanks to you.”
�
�Me? C’mon Kroekus, you can’t blame me for everything!”
The Silean nodded. “You are correct. For this I am partially responsible.”
“Good,” said Adam. And then he frowned. “Why?”
“Because it was my scientists who invented the concentrated-array gravity-drive, and it was I who gave this technology to you in the form of your two Crusader vessels—what were their names, the Pegasus and the Phoenix? Such a quaint practice of naming your starships. And then you went and introduced the CA drive to your Human counterparts, and now there’s a wholesale stampede to build more and more ships with such technology. With the ability of the CA drive to shrink the size of our galaxy, others will soon turn their sights on the Cloud—on Tanic—and then the invasion will begin. I must be in a position of absolute control by that time. Yet now, with the dissolution of my budding fleet, I have lost precious time.”
Kroekus smiled at Adam, even though there was no humor in his eyes. “And once again, you played a prominent role in upsetting my plans—in making them go awry, as you said earlier.”
“This one is called the law of unintended consequences,” Adam said with a wry smile.
“Enough with your cute Human colloquialisms!” The Silean’s face was beginning to glow red—which from experience—Adam knew to be a harbinger of bad things to come. “Because of all this, I will now be moving my ship further into Polimor space and contacting various individuals in an attempt to regain control of my fleet. As an unintended consequence, I may be obligated to turn you over to them to answer for Dakken’s death. That is something I would find very disturbing.”
“Yeah…me too.”
Kroekus glared at Adam. “All of this is wasting precious time and upsetting my plans. But I called you in here to make you an offer.”
Adam raised his eyebrows.
“I have been thinking more of this death-match between you and Nigel, and I would like nothing more than to make that happen. Losing you to the Polimors would take that away from me.”
When Kroekus stopping talking and remained silence for several moments, Adam leaned forward in his chair and offered his open palms to the alien. “And…what do you have in mind?”
“Help me,” Kroekus answered.
“Help you with what?”
“Anything…and everything. Even though you have been an on-going problem for me over the years, I have come to respect your abilities, as well as your uncanny luck. It should not matter to you whether or not I conquer this galaxy. Your stated objective is the death of Nigel McCarthy. I am giving you the opportunity to achieve that goal.”
“Just so I can be killed afterwards.”
“That is the compromise I’m offering.”
Adam sat back in the chair, stunned. “Go on.”
“As my lieutenant, you could be very instrumental in helping me secure this galaxy. And then, as we acquire your nemesis, I will allow you the opportunity to kill him, in combat, which I assume would be very gratifying having observed Humans for some time now. I cannot guarantee your victory—that I will leave up to you. However, as you requested yesterday, if you should be the victor, I will allow you to go free.” And then Kroekus leaned forward on the couch, “Under one condition: You return to the Milky Way galaxy and never again journey to Tanic.”
“And what if I don’t win; I know, however slight a chance that may be?”
“Your overconfidence could spell your demise, Adam. Yet if by chance or bad luck Nigel happens to come out the victor, then I will put him to death immediately.”
Adam’s grin stretched from ear to ear. ‘How can I say no to that? You’ve got yourself a deal!”
Kroekus leaned back on the couch and returned a wry grin of his own. “Don’t be so overjoyed, Adam. There is one other detail I want to share with you.”
Again Adam raised his eyebrows.
“In order to get Nigel to fight with all his skill and effort, I will offer him the same chance at freedom for defeating you—”
“But you just said—”
“Yes, I will still kill him; however that will be our little secret. I do this to assure a truthful contest between the two of you. And now that you know all the terms of my offer, do you still accept?”
“I have a condition of my own.”
Kroekus frowned. “And what is that?”
“That I change out of this silly-looking orange outfit. This is what convicts wear on Earth.”
147
When Adam called on Nurick, he found the alien hunched up on the bed in his stateroom, dressed in the orange tunic and massaging his slender ankle around where the tracking device was attached. Barely acknowledging his presence, the Vicorean then leaned back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling.
“Why so glum, chum?” Adam asked, trying to lighten the mood. It might have worked on a Human, but all it did for Nurick was make his head shudder again.
Adam set the package he’d brought on the small table in the stateroom. “This is for you. It’s a more traditional uniform other than that orange abomination.”
“I happen to like the color, and it also helps differentiate me from the rest of these pirates.”
“That’s the whole idea. But seriously, put this on. It will allow you to move around the ship without everyone staring at you.”
“I will not be doing much moving around, seeing that my situation has simply changed from being your prisoner to that of your past colleague.”
Adam took the package and tossed it onto Nurick’s chest. He barely reacted. “Well, things have changed. We’re no longer prisoners, but members of the crew. And I have a job for you.”
“I do not recall voluntarily joining any crew.” Nurick sat up on the bed and looked at the package. “What job is this, and how is it that you can make assignments? I believe you are scheduled for termination sometime in the near future.”
“Like I said, things have changed. I’m now the second-in-command of this fleet, and as such I have considerable clout.”
Nurick now stared at him, his mouth slightly open.
“Pretty cool, huh? And I still get to fight Nigel McCarthy when the time comes. But if I win, I get to go free.”
“That is not what your large friend said. Yet if that is what he tells you now, how do you know you can trust him?”
“I can’t, but at least this way I’ll have more freedom and resources available to make sure things work out as promised.”
“I am happy for you Adam Cain. As always, I am sure you will survive this ordeal just fine.” He didn’t need to finish his unspoken thought.
“Cheer up, buddy,” Adam said. “Kroekus has the resources to make you one of the wealthiest creatures in Tanic. And if he succeeds with his plans, you could parlay all this into a pretty nice position as one of his top advisors. No one on Vicor will dare come after you if that happens.”
Nurick shook his head. “A lot has transpired since I last saw you. I suppose I have no choice but to trust you. Yet until I see evidence of any real change, I will still consider myself a prisoner. And what of this device?” he asked, rubbing the ankle bracelet. “I assume this can now be removed.”
“Sadly, no, not until I earn Kroekus’s trust.”
“So we are still prisoners.”
“Dude, snap out of it! Get your ass into those new clothes and join me on the mid-portside hangar deck. You have the installation of hybrid power-mods to supervise.”
“Now I am confused.”
“Kroekus has several hundred special high-energy modules aboard—mods made in the Milky Way—Silea—by the way, so I know they’ll be compatible. I can have as many as I need. And with these units installed, I’ll be able to boost well-depth of the Pegasus by another fifty percent. With these things installed, the Pegasus will now over ten times faster. And it also means that when the time comes, I’ll be able to get home in only four months.”
Nurick’s eyes were now wide, with a look bordering on excitement, but not quite there yet.
“Indeed, things have changed. Yet does this task you must help your friend with involve the subjugation of Tanic by creatures from Silea?”
Adam frowned. “That’s going to happen anyway, whether we help him or not. But this way you get an inside track to the new power structure in the galaxy. And it won’t hurt to be fabulously wealthy, too.”
“You would see to that for me?” Nurick asked. “I was under the impression you were upset with me over the original mod purchase.”
“I am, but right now I need an ally, and unfortunately you’re the closest thing I have to a friend onboard—at least one I can lift. Kroekus needs me, and I need him. After that, all bets are off. Let’s just work together now and we may both come out of this better than when we started.”
Word had spread quickly aboard Kroekus’s behemoth, and now as Adam and Nurick made their way to the where the Pegasus was stored, many in the crew either acknowledged Adam with a nod of their heads or an actual salute. It had been awhile since Adam enjoyed the privilege of rank and so he was a little out of practice with his crisp return salutes.
He would get Nurick working on the Pegasus, and then go find the new quarters being prepared for him. As he understood it, he wasn’t the new XO of the starship, but rather what was called the First Advisor to Kroekus. This placed him above even the captain of the ship, a job Kroekus had reserved for others. The huge Silean was a supervisor, not one of the worker bees; Adam didn’t even know if Kroekus knew how to pilot a starship. He’d never seen him do it.
His new quarters were near the gigantic bridge of the starship, so after checking out his new digs, he made a call to the ship’s captain.
He cringed from nostalgia when he found the creature was Rigorian named Grosel Vins. Rigorians were one of the main species inhabiting The Fringe Worlds, the frontier region of the old Juirean Expansion where Adam had first begun his adventures in outer space nearly twenty years ago. They were a belligerent race of warriors, three of which Adam had shot to death in an old-fashion quick-draw shoot-out within three days of waking up in a Klin hibernation chamber. That was a whole other chapter in the life of Adam Cain, and he was sure it was written down somewhere for those who were interested.