Human Chronicles Part 2 Book 3: A Galaxy to Conquer

by T. R. Harris

  Robe turned to his second-in-command and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Send out your ships, Hub, and then set us down on the surface. I have an appointment with the planetary president, czar or whatever they have here. This should get interesting.”

  Chapter 2

  Throughout their brief time in the Aslon system, the Humans had been monitoring the communications traffic between the defenders and the planet, and as a result had a pretty good idea as to the location of the planet's central government. It was on one of the largest islands within the vast, shallow sea, and in a central cluster of buildings with one dominant structure reaching twenty stories high.

  Dave took three ships down to the surface with him, and even before touching down in a vast field outside the governmental building complex, monitors revealed that the O'mly fully intended to defend their capital from the invading aliens.

  Over four thousand O'mly had assembled near the entrance to the tallest of the buildings, having stacked hundreds of car-like transports and trucks into a metal barricade four cars high. Then the defenders ensconced themselves within the barricade, aiming their flash rifles and mobile cannon out windows and doors of the stacked vehicles. Captain Robe wasn't even sure if the planetary leader was in the building, yet the O'mly appeared to be going through an awful lot of trouble to guard this one particular structure.

  Each of Robe's three KFV-C's carried a crew of forty-five along with a contingent of one hundred Marines, and secured within the landing bays of the ships, they also carried two armored transport vehicles with 50-caliber machine guns, along with two mobile platforms with mounted 88mm cannon. Dave watched with satisfaction as LtCol. Nathan Cruise disembarked his Marines from the three spacecraft – all three hundred of them – and rolled out the six ATV's and 88mm cannon.

  Dave Robe stepped off the incline ramp from the San Diego's landing bay and placed his first step upon an alien world. He tried to take a moment to revel in the sensation, yet circumstances didn't allow him more than thirty-seconds before Colonel Cruise approached. Even then the old Army mantra kept echoing in his head: Join the Army, meet interesting people—and kill them! If ever that saying was true, it surely applied to his current assignment.

  “We're fully-disembarked and assembled, Captain.”

  Dave could have sworn that the Marine Lieutenant-Colonel was near sexual arousal at the moment. He decided to give him some leeway; Marines were trained to fight, not sit for weeks aboard a cramped spaceship waiting for the action to begin.

  “So I take it your men are ready for this, Colonel?”

  Cruise fashioned an almost sinister smirk on his face. “The deadliest weapon in the galaxy is a pissed off nineteen-year-old Marine, sir, and I have plenty of those to go around.”

  “I have no doubt, Colonel. You're in command of the assault; just leave me someone to negotiate with.”

  “I didn't think our mission here was to negotiate, sir. I thought it was to kick-ass and take names.”

  “It is, Colonel, and you're the tip of the sword. But we need to leave someone alive to spread the word about the consequences of siding with the wrong party in this war.”

  “I'm sure they'll be plenty of these water-sucking bastards to tell the tale.”

  “Be careful, Nathan. You've seen the pictures of their eight-inch long talons.”

  “We don't intend to get that close, Captain. Now if you'll excuse me, sir, I have some aliens to kill.”

  Out of nowhere, a command tent had sprung up in the field near the San Diego; Captain Robe and his staff took positions inside at a bank of computer monitors sitting on folding tables. A dozen drones had taken to the air and were now monitoring the battlefield from above.

  What Dave first noticed about the line of defenders was that nearly all of them were now hidden within the barricade of stacked transports. Even though he was no land-based tactician, he was pretty sure that may have been a mistake.

  It didn't take long for his suspicions to be validated.

  The flash weapons employed by the aliens had a maximum effective range of just under a mile, and that was just the rare cannon they possessed. The hand-held rifles and handguns could only reach out to about a hundred yards or so. On the other hand, the Human 50-cal, 88mm and grenade launchers had a much longer range, especially in the three-quarter gravity of Aslon. So when Colonel Cruise unleashed his barrage against the defensive line of the O'mly, the aliens—natives in this case—had no defense except to hunker down and take it.

  Unfortunately, the meager cover the stack of vehicles provided served only to entomb the defenders in coffins of hot, twisted metal. The barricade literally exploded high into the thin air as round after round tore into it. The boom of the 88's, the rat-tat-tat of the 50-cal’s and the thundering cacophony of grenades exploding—all within a concentrated area—was absolutely deafening.

  Fortunately, the barrage didn’t last long, even though Dave's ears would be ringing for hours afterwards. After only five minutes of intense fire, Colonel Cruise called for a ceasefire, not so much to assess the condition of his troops, but rather to let the smoke clear so they could better sight their targets.

  There was quiet stillness among the Human Marines as they witnessed the results of their initial attack. The once tall wall of stacked transports was now in total disarray, with burned out hulks strewn about the courtyard in front of the tall government building, burning rubber tires sending up multiple towers of dense, black smoke above the now quiet battlefield. A central corridor had been blown free of most obstructions leading up to the entrance of the central building, and there were dead O'mly everywhere. In five short minutes, easily eighty percent of the four thousand defenders had died … and not a single Human had suffered even a scratch.

  It was then that Dave noticed on the monitors a large number of O'mly running to his right towards the sea. He watched in amazement as the natives dove head first into the ocean. The drones overhead showed an elaborate maze of structures just below the surface. The O'mly—gyrating their bodies like dolphin—dove deeper into the murky waters and disappeared.

  Dave grimaced. His mission was to destroy the O'mly race, or at least as many as he could. Watching the natives dive below the surface meant that many more would survive than he had anticipated. Still, Dave Robe would make a lasting impression on the homeworld of the O'mly. They would never forget this day—just as the Humans had a couple of memorable days of their own they would never forget....

  ********

  Captain Dave Robe now began to assemble his diplomatic entourage, which included LtCol. Cruise and fifty of his Marines, and as he began to make his way towards the entrance of the building which the natives had fought so vainly to defend, all he could think of was: Ain't payback a bitch?

  The Marines entered the building first, and immediately encountered more close-quarters resistance from within. Robe stood back and watched as the young Human warriors effectively sent suppressing fire into the pockets of hapless defenders.

  At one point, a skinny private first class got ambushed by five O'mly, each attacking with their talons—essentially eight-inch long fingernails at the tips of two of their fingers, making a total of four deadly spikes from each attacker. The young Marine brushed aside two of the O’mly with his M27 assault rifle before being knocked to the ground by the other three aliens; he lost his weapon and had to resort to hand-to-hand combat. And this was when things got really strange....

  In the light gravity of Aslon, the Marine was lightning quick and able to fend off every blow sent his way by the aliens. At one point, the young warrior even let out a little laugh at the ease with which he was defending himself. He then grabbed one of the O'mly around the neck, and with a squeeze of his hand, collapsed the creature's windpipe. And then a few super-powerful fist-blows later—some of which nearly ripped off the faces of the aliens—the young Marine was soon standing in the center of the bloody remains of all five of his attackers.

  Now covered in al
ien blood, the blond Marine clenched his fists, threw back his head and let out a primal Oo-rah as loudly as he could.

  His call was soon joined by a chorus of more echoing shouts from throughout the vast central lobby of the building. The battle was over ... and only two marines had suffered minor puncture wounds; their scars soon to become badges of honor they would carry with them for the rest of their lives.

  Suddenly, all the Humans became aware of more movement coming from one of the elevators at the far end of the room. A group of eight O'mly now stood at the door, their faces covered with what could only be described as white surgical masks.

  “Hold fast!” Colonel Cruise ordered. These O'mly were different; they wore ceremonial robes and appeared to be much older than the others. Captain Robe and his entourage approached the aliens; Cruise's men swarmed over the natives, searching for weapons and explosives. When none were found, they stepped aside and let their commander advance.

  The O'mly in the center of the group stepped forward. “I am Isnar Beh, Ulnish of the O’mly people,” he said by way of introduction. “Why have you done this? Why have you attacked us so viciously and without provocation?"

  Dave and his men had been fitted with universal translation bugs years ago—it was now required on Earth that all children be fitted as well—so he understood the alien’s language. “This is what you get for siding with the Kracori.”

  “We did not side with them,” the O'mly leader countered emphatically.

  “You helped them stage their attack on the Earth. Where I come from, that's joining the enemy. And for that, you’re classified as an enemy of Humanity—just as the Kracori.”

  “Before the Klin came—and then the Kracori—we had never heard of your Earth before. After that, all we had to go by was what we were told.”

  “Is that why you wear the masks?”

  “Yes. Is it not true you carry diseases, virulent, deadly diseases?”

  “Not any more than you do, so you can take off those ridiculous things.”

  The aliens slowly pulled down the masks to reveal knobby, green-tinted skin covering elongated faces. “Please, you must acknowledge that this is simply a misunderstanding?” Isnar said.

  “No misunderstanding,” Dave shouted, his anger growing by the second. “There are a billion-and-a-half Humans dead or dying because of what you helped the Kracori achieve. For that, your race has been sentenced to death.”

  “We O'mly are not allies of the Kracori. They came ... and we had no choice but to help.”

  “And yet you believed every word they said, even about Humans being parasites and disease carriers.” Robe shook his head. “The damage is done. Even if your participation in the attack on Earth was only peripheral, what happens to the O'mly will serve as a warning to others who want to mess with the Humans.”

  “I'm afraid I do not understand the phrase 'to mess with' –”

  “It means to bring harm to. The Human race has suffered enough at the hands of aliens—by creatures like you. No more. The galaxy is about to be taught a lesson, and unfortunately for the O'mly, you are our first students.”

  “So you will destroy our entire race ... to make an example?”

  “Not all of you; many will survive, probably millions. And you, Mr. President—or Ulnish as you call yourself—will be spared. We need you to spread the word about what happens to anyone who goes against the Humans.”

  “We did not go against the Humans!” the O'mly leader pleaded, his eyes now wide and with tiny droplets of green spittle appearing at the corners of his mouth.

  “You knew the Kracori were staging an attack on the Earth and yet you did nothing to stop them.”

  “What could we do?” the alien cried. He was near a full-blown panic attack. “The Kracori and the Klin are much more advanced than are we. They would have just destroyed us and moved on to another race.”

  “Sorry about your luck, Bud!” Dave stated. He was no diplomat, and his orders did not call for him to become one. He watched the confused look on the faces of the aliens at his last statement and then he turned to Colonel Cruise. “Take them to my ship and lock ’em away. They'll remain there until our mission here is complete.” He turned back to the native leader. “At which time you will be released to begin the clean-up. And hopefully, we won't have to come back for a second round of lessons.”

  Chapter 3

  Adam Cain left the communications room of the huge Formilian spacecraft in a daze, his head jumbled up with plans upon plans upon plans. The New-Expansion Administrator Kroekus of Silea had just laid a vast amount of information on him—information Adam was upset that he was just now learning.

  For the past thirty days, Adam had split nearly every waking moment between helping train his team on the use of their new Artificial Telepathy Devices and desperately seeking a plan to rescue Riyad from the Kracori home planet of Elision … and a plan that didn’t sound like a suicide mission. With the information Kroekus had just blessed him with he was beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Unfortunately, they were only a day out from Tel’or—the gateway to the Juddle Nebula—and there wasn’t much time left for planning, not with the Juireans barreling their way toward a clash with the Kracori.

  His thoughts were interrupted by the subtle decrease in gravity as he neared the ship’s common room. There were three localized gravity-wells operating within the ship, providing gravity over the football-field-length of the spacecraft. The eight Formilians enjoyed the lighter gravity of their homeworld throughout two-thirds of the ship, while the five heavy-gravity Humans spent most of their time in the aft section. It was always easier and more efficient for the heavy-worlders to adapt to lighter gravity rather than the other way around. But even as he neared the common room, Adam already knew that gravity was going to influence his mission plan, and the Formilians were not going to like it....

  The Formilian ship had been originally built to accommodate a crew and passenger count of over two hundred, so there was ample space for the thirteen passengers currently aboard to spread out. The huge common/dining room combination was spacious, with two dozen tables anchored to the deck for meals, a large alcove with eight comfortable sofas, and a self-serve meal-prep area running along one long wall.

  As Adam entered, he saw that the eight Formilians were seated around two of the tables near the center of the room, their chiseled and bronze bodies barely contained in the form-fitting jumpsuits they all wore. Even though they appeared to be much stronger and better-conditioned than the smaller, pale-skinned Humans occupying the alcove area, Adam knew this was only an illusion. The lighter gravity of the Formilian birth world made them a poor match for the strength, durability and quickness of the Humans, although one couldn’t tell it at first glance. This was a common mistake made throughout the galaxy, that of underestimating the Humans. But even as this angered Adam at times, it had also allowed he and his kind to fly under the radar ... at least until it was time to step up and put the hurt on someone.

  Master Chief Geoffrey Rutledge and Petty Officer First Class John Tindal were seated on one of the long sofas in the alcove, each cradling an acoustic guitar in their laps and singing in perfect harmony. The two former SEAL’s had been Adam’s friends and teammates for going on twenty years, but it hadn’t been until they retired from military service seven years earlier that Adam even knew they could sing and play music as well as they could. Returning to Earth after the Human-Juirean War, the pair had moved to Key West, Florida, and made a fairly good living entertaining the tourists and fishermen in America’s southern-most city. The fact that Adam had never heard them play or sing in his early days as a member of SEAL Team Six, simply meant that they must have started after Adam had been abducted by the Klin. After that event, his entire perspective of reality had changed.

  Rutledge and Tindal had been on the recon mission with Adam that fateful night along the Afghan-Pakistan border. And even though no one had ever mentioned it aloud, the other two SE
AL’s knew that except for a simple quirk of fate, it could have been either one of them who was abducted rather than Adam Cain.

  Admiral Andy Tobias, USN-RET, sat next to Sherri Valentine, watching and listening to the impromptu concert with mesmerized expressions—the guys were that good—and were so enraptured that they didn’t notice when Adam entered the room. Yet when the duo made a quick and unexpected end to Teach Your Children by Crosby, Stills and Nash, all eyes turned to their leader, Adam Cain.

  “So what’s the scoop, Captain?” John Tindal asked as they all rose to meet him near the congregation of Formilians. “Did Kroekus-the-Hut help us out any?”

  Even though they often joked about the Silean’s huge bulk, Adam knew a secret that the others didn’t: Silean males intentionally grew to such bulk because along with their size also grew their maleness, their sex organ. In Silean society, the larger the male the more of a stud he was, so being a fat Silean was actually desired rather than frowned upon.

  The Humans took seats at the tables next to the Formilians while Adam faced his team, leaning against another table while remaining standing.

  “He has indeed, although I’m pretty pissed that he waited until the last minute to tell me.”

  Adam saw frowns cross the faces of the Formilian contingent of his team as they worked through the translation of ‘pissed.’ All except Trimen O’lac. The young and handsome alien was second in power only to the First Celebrant Convor Ton’al Ona among the Formilian male religious and political caste. It had been Trimen who had initially trained Adam in the use of his telepathy device, and as a consequence, he had spent more time with the Human than any other Formilian, even their Supreme Celebrant Arieel Bol. By now, Trimen had heard nearly every colloquialism and slang term Adam could throw out, and even though most of them he still didn’t comprehend, by now he let most slide by without comment or concern.