Human Chronicles Part 2 Book 3: A Galaxy to Conquer

by T. R. Harris

  “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 heard 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.”

  Chapter 23

  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, undetacted 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-watch 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.”

  “And of course, Fleet Admirals don’t need something as mundane as sleep themselves, now do they?”

  “That luxury went away with the promotion, Admiral, which I imagine applies to lowly ship’s captains as well.”

  “They’ll be time enough to sleep ... when we’re all dead and buried. Until then, I don’t want to miss a thing.”

  ********

  Six hours later Fleet Admiral Nash entered the darkened cavern of The Trident’s CIC to find Christian Bergmann hunched over a magnetic-detection monitor, along with a handful of other officers and two chiefs.

  “Fill me in, Admiral,” Nash commanded as a spot was cleared for him at the monitor.

  “Yes, sir. They’re huge magnetic anomalies, twenty or more of them. They’re at the extreme range of our detectors, but they are definitely there.”

  “What could be causing them?”

  Senior Chief Ernesto Salazar was the ship’s foremost expert in advanced monitoring equipment. “Sir, anomalies such as these could be the result of heavy metal concentrations within meteors or asteroids, yet these appear to be uniform in density and strength.”

  “How uniform?”

  “They appear to be identical, sir.”

  “How large are they?”

  “Hard to tell at this range, Admiral. They could be very large and a great distance, or small and closer in. We’ve only just now entered the Void with our drones, and the readings are preliminary.”

  “But you’re convinced they’re not natural occurrences?”

  The Chief looked around at all the eyes cast upon him. “No sir. They have to be artificial.”

  Everyone straightened up from over the monitor and looked to the Fleet Admiral. “So we could have twenty incredibly large and massive man-made objects sitting off at the inner edge of the Shield, far away from any planet or defensive position.”

  “Alien-made, Admiral,” Christian Bergmann corrected. “We know for certain they aren’t man-made.”

  “I stand corrected, Mr. Bergmann, which makes the situation even more worrisome. With the accumulation of opposing forces all about to clash within the Void, the presence of these objects cannot be a coincidence. Have we been detected Chief?”

  Salazar shook his head. “We’re picking up no emissions from the objects, at least none in our direction. Our drones only have them on density meters, which are entirely passive from our side.”

  “And what happens when the bulk of the fleet begins to pass through the tunnel? No doubt we’ll be detectable then.”

  “It will be impossible to hide the gravity signatures of so many ships.” Admiral Bergmann replied.

  Nash sent him a curt nod. “Until we have more intel we have to assume these objects are some secret weapon of the Kracori, something they’ve hidden away in this deserted region of the Void. I can imagine they’ll be pretty surprised to see us pop out right next door.”

  “If we proceed with our timeline, Admiral, then the Kracori—and this possible secret fleet—will have to engage us before the Juireans have had a chance to soften up our targets,” Commander Paul Crossman pointed out. “It could take away our element of surprise and weaken us in comparison to both the Kracori and Juirean fleets. It was never our intention to go up against both fleets with them at full capacity.”

  Nash looked back at the monitor and the faint cluster of white dots at the far edge of the screen. The objects were waiting for something, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t the Human fleet. It was Command’s selection of this far-off location along the Shield that had allowed this chance encounter with the anomalies. The builders of the objects had chosen this location for the same reason as the Humans. It was intentional.

  “I’m delaying the entry, gentlemen,” Nash announced to his assembled staff. “We’ll do our best to keep the tunnel clear, and send out an appropriate number of passive drones to investigate the anomalies further.”

  None of the assembled officers and enlisted men raised a protest. They all knew that revealing the fleet before they learned more about the magnetic anomalies could defeat the entire purpose of the rapid arrival at the Shield and the secret entry into Kracori space.

  “Our delay will only be for a
day or so. By then the Juireans should be in the Void and their battle with the Kracori will be joined. Also by that time, the intentions of the anomalies should be known, if they are indeed some kind of secret fleet waiting to surprise the Juireans. Chris, pull back the forward units and keep the tunnel clear. When we do enter the Void, it will have to quicker than originally planned.”

  “Will do, sir. I guess it’s fortunate we detected the anomalies before they detected us. Otherwise this operation could have gotten a lot more dangerous.”

  ********

  The Klin supervisor looked at the data line once again and shook his head. “I do not see it, Annaliss. Are you sure you are correct?”

  “I believe so. First there was drop in the background radiation, and then a surge of energy.”

  “But it is gone now?”

  “Most of it. I still detect some energy streaks in the region.”

  “Could this be from a comet or other such collision with the Shield?”

  “That is possible; however I would expect some residual traces at the impact zone. Instead I still get this decrease in density, rather than a rippling effect.”

  “I do not wish to bother the Pleabaen and his staff with this, not at this time. There are so many other events about to take place within the Nebula that they would only find this a distraction. Send out a probe or two to the region, yet keep their energy signatures to a minimum. It would not serve to be detected, not at this critical time.”

  “I will do as you say, Simiss. Yet this is strange. I will keep you informed of any new developments.”

  Senior Tech Simiss left the monitoring facility and returned to his compartment; he would attempt to get a few hours of rest before the start of the major scanning efforts scheduled for the following day.

  He was sure he had instructed his young associate as to the proper course of action to take regarding the odd readings he had detected. After all, they could not be distracted with every collision occurring along the inner wall of the Shield. If that were the case, then every Klin monitoring tech in the Colony would be so engaged, rather than surveying for the monumental events about to unfold at the other side of Void, events which will provide the Klin with the final resolution to their four-thousand-year-long quest.