by T. R. Harris
He had just been told his race would be exterminated, to be relegated to the back pages of galactic history, if even that. He tried to raise his anger level when he thought of the root cause of their demise, but he had not the energy left for such an emotion. It was the Klin. They had approached the Kracori hundreds of years before, infecting them with their promises of galactic domination—the ultimate expression of Kracori Legend. Without the interference of the Klin, the Kracori would have lived out their natural existence safely hidden within the Dysion Void, unconcerned with the vagaries of galactic politics and ambitions. But now they would suffer the ultimate loss of Legend: the complete destruction of their race. And they could do nothing except watch it happen.
And where were the Klin now at the Kracori’s hour of need? Where?
Chapter 29
The dozen unmanned probes launched from the Klin Colony fanned out toward the source of the Shield disturbance, their miniature gravity drives designed to barely register on magnetometers and other such scanning devices.
Senior sensor tech Simiss had used his authority to dispatch the drones, up to the maximum he was allowed without approval from his superiors. He was taking a chance sending out even this small number, since the Void was now filling rapidly with dangerous forces, and any detection of the Colony could prove catastrophic. The fact that he sent them in the opposite direction from where most of the activity was taking place offered him some comfort. After all, there was nothing in this section of the Void, no major stars, no habitable planets. This area truly was a void, and it was the reason the Klin had selected this part of space to hide their Colony, in notorious defiance of the forces seeking to destroy them, and right in the backyard of the traitorous Kracori.
********
Pleabaen Wesselian Velsum had been experiencing an incredible amount of anxiety recently. As the leader of the Klin Colony, he blamed himself for the circumstances that now found him and his fellow Klin still cloistered deep within the Dysion Void, essentially prisoners and unable to escape.
With all the vast resources at their disposal with regards to intelligence gathering, Velsum had allowed the Klin to be caught flat-footed with the arrival of the Juirean fleet. Even though they had learned of the fleet’s intentions long before it arrived at the Silvean Nebula, by that time the Kracori and their newfound allies had effectively closed off the Volseen Corridor before the Klin could make their escape.
The plans for the departure had been in the works for many years, only accelerated now by two recent developments. The first was the Kracori failure to fully eradicate the Human race on Earth. Even though the Humans had suffered another unimaginable loss of life during the attack, they still emerged as a powerful force, and now reenergized by the sly and duplicitous act. The Humans were coming for the Kracori, and the Klin did not want to be anywhere in the area when they arrived.
The second was the chance discovery of the Colony by a rogue Guild trader a few months back. He had come innocently enough, seeking out new markets for his wares. Yet even though the Klin did not reveal their true identity to the trader—and the record of the encounter had been erased from the databank of the trader’s ship—the Tel’oran could still spread news of the discovery by word-of-mouth, if he chose to do so.
At the time, the Klin hadn’t worried too much about the encounter, fully intending to be out of the Void and well on the way to their new hiding place by the time any news of this mysterious contact became public. Yet the premature arrival of the Juireans did not allow that to happen.
Now the Klin would do their best to remain hidden in this faraway region of the Void, while the three main antagonists in the galaxy destroyed each other in a spectacular show of bravado and stupidity.
Depending on how thorough the destruction of the Kracori, Juireans and the Humans, it was the Klin who would be the last surviving superpower in the galaxy. It had taken four thousand years to reach this point in history, and although much of what was transpiring at this time was not of Klin design, Velsum was ready to take advantage of circumstances as they were offered.
All he had to do now was to keep the Colony from being detected, at least for another month or so. After that, the Klin would proudly announce their presence to the galaxy.
And it was this nearing of the ultimate timetable for the Klin’s final salvation that was causing his excess anxiety. There was just too much at stake not to worry.
********
“Where to, boss?” Andy Tobias asked as the Kracori pursuers continued to fade far away.
Adam was standing behind Kaylor in the pilot seat, wondering the same thing. “Trying to get through the Corridor is out of the question, at least until the Juireans and Kracori get done screwing with each other.” He turned to Ruszel Crin, the Tel’oran pilot who had guided Riyad into the Void a few months before. “There are other ways in and out of the Void, aren’t there?”
Ruszel considered him for a moment, scanning up and down his bloodied and grim-covered body. “I have to assume you are the Adam Cain the others speak of?”
“Yep, now what have you got for me?”
“There are many ways for an individual ship to make it through the Shield. The problem has always come from larger and multiple craft passing through. Too much disruption of the material making up the Shield for a safe passage and immediately upon the transit, the passage closes up again.”
“But you got Riyad and Kaylor through.”
“Yes, I did, and I can do it for you as well. There is a relatively thin region of the Shield where I can attempt transit. It is not where I brought Kaylor through; that region is now much too close to the action within the Void. It is the location where I brought in Riyad.”
“Where’s that?”
“I will send the coordinates to Kaylor. He can take us to the Shield, however I will have to pilot the ship through.”
“Great.” Adam turned to Kaylor. “You know where we’re going?”
Kaylor considered the coordinates just sent to his computer. He projected them on a graphic of the Dysion Void. “Yes, Adam, a distant, unpopulated region far away from the fighting.”
“I like the sound of that. It will be good to relax a little without the whole universe trying to kill us. Take us there, Kaylor. And now, I really have to take a shower.”
“Yes, you truly must,” Kaylor agreed, his nostrils twitching.
That’s a first, Adam thought. An alien complaining about the smell!
Chapter 30
Langril Nomar Polimic had several residences where he could have moved to after his accommodations within the Citadel had been destroyed. Instead, he chose to remain in the military headquarters complex, in one of the large, luxurious apartments reserved for the highest ranking Kracori officers. With so much to think about, he did not want to be lulled into a false sense of security by surrounding himself with all the decadent trappings of his office.
He paced the room, trying his best to find a solution to the gravest crisis to ever face his race. He agreed that by looking only at the short term the Kracori would come out ahead in the looming battle with the Juireans, even if at a tremendous cost in personnel and material. And that would have been an acceptable tradeoff ... if it were not for the Humans.
And where are the Klin? They had always been acutely aware of all that was transpiring within the galaxy, yet Nomar had not heard a word from them in over three months. He firmed his jaw and walked to the huge desk that was located in the office alcove of the executive suite. He picked up a comm pad and began pressing the secret code that only a Langril of the Kracori would know.
The Klin and Kracori had still not fully reconciled over their last disagreement, and still they had teamed to help eradicate the Human threat from both their lives. However, since the failed attempt on the Earth, there had been no communication between the two leaders. Yet Nomar did have a way of contacting the Klin Pleabaen Wesselian Velsum.
When the Continuous-Wormhole link was est
ablished, Nomar switched the communication to a video monitor on the desk. He sat in a large chair and leaned forward toward the screen.
His counterpart within the Klin race appeared. Velsum was pale-skinned, and with a strange luster to his flesh that often caused his race to be called silver in color. They accentuated this effect by almost always wearing garments white in color, or with a translucent sheen.
“Langril Nomar, I have been expecting your link.”
“Then why have you not initiated one of your own? You must know what is transpiring within the Void. Where are you?” Nomar was in no mood for the dance most politicians engage in ad nauseam.
“We are far away, and yes, we are aware of the Juireans within your midst.”
“Can you help?”
“I am confused, Nomar,” said the Klin, frowning. “I have been informed that your forces will defeat the Juireans.”
“Yet then the Humans will be upon us, and we will not be able to mount a defense. Surely you must be thinking beyond just this current conflict?”
Velsum hesitated before answering; Nomar could detect a trace of impatience in the Klin’s gestures. “The Human situation is a difficult one.”
“I am fully aware of that, Pleabaen. My question is can the Klin render any assistance?”
The Klin nodded slightly. Nomar knew already that the meaning of this movement was the opposite as one might expect. Velsum had just indicated a negative.
“The Klin are not a race who engage in direct combat. We have always been the ones to provide technical and strategical support.”
“Just as you did for our attack on Earth? That support proved to be lacking.”
“We had not counted on the effectiveness of the defense orchestrated by Adam Cain.”
Nomar’s insides tightened at the mention of the Human’s name. He debated whether to inform the Klin leader that he had had Adam Cain in his custody, and out of a warped sense of bravado, had not killed him when he had the chance.”
As if reading the Langril’s mind, Velsum spoke: “You should have killed him when the opportunity first presented itself.”
“Ah! So you do have spies on Elision!”
“Of course we do, as we do on nearly every important world with the Nebula and the Expansion.”
“And on Earth; do you know when the Human fleet is expected?”
Velsum hesitated slightly once more. “To be honest, we have not been able to discern. After your failed attack on the planet, our sources have either lost their valuable contacts, or else the Humans are keeping their plans within a very narrow universe.”
“So you will not provide material support for a defense against the Humans and you cannot provide an insight into when they will arrive? Is that correct?”
“I am afraid we have no other choice. The Klin are not violent beings—”
“And yet you manipulate others into doing the fighting for you!”
“The Kracori have been willing participants since the beginning.”
“It was not to end like this! We were to rule the galaxy!”
Velsum looked away from the screen for a few moments, distracted by something. When his attention returned he gave a dismissive shrug of his shoulders. “Plans are always in flux, Nomar. I regret if you are not content with how they have transpired for you and the Kracori.”
“Content? My race is about to be exterminated! How can I be content with that?”
“That is not the concern of the Klin any longer, Nomar. Events have progressed too far for us to influence them at this point. I would suggest you surrender to the inevitability of your situation and begin to make the appropriate arrangements.”
Nomar was incensed. The Klin leader was simply dismissing the Kracori’s fate as if they were a piece on a gaming board.
The Klin continued: “This will be our last communication. I will be dissolving this link once we are done and scrambling the source. I would express my confidence in a positive resolution to your current dilemma, if I truly had such confidence. But alas, I do not. Farewell, Nomar Polimic. That is all.”
True to his word, the comm screen suddenly displayed only static. The abrupt and disrespectful end to the Kracori’s eight-hundred-year relationship with the Klin left Nomar stunned and gasping for breath. He began to sweat, and the pounding of his heart became so pronounced that he feared it could not sustain this pace much longer. Heart failure was a leading cause of death among Kracori.
Nomar closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing. He would give it a moment more before calling his physicians.
In the blackness of his vision, he heard the words of the Klin echo in his mind: Surrender to the inevitability of the situation. The very thought was anathema to the Kracori—surrender was not a concept his race understood well. It was so....
His eyes suddenly shot open and he rose up straighter in the chair. Even though his heart still continued to beat at a far greater rate than was healthy, now it beat from excitement.
And idea—no an entire strategy—had just burst forth in his mind. Even though gaps still existed in its understanding, he sought to pull the concept—the vision—more into focus.
Yes, it was radical, yet what other choice did he have?
Nomar reached for the comm pad again, but this time he summoned Daninf and Command-Tactician Galix to his quarters. He would need their input and feedback to further define the strategy, even though he was already committed.
The next link he made was to arrange a starship to be at his disposal; the fastest ship the Kracori had in their arsenal. After all, the Juireans would be arriving at the Kracori star system within twenty hours. He had no time to waste.
Chapter 31
The tiny probe reached the source of the disturbance in the Shield and instantly recorded the lack of density in the structure. There was a wide gap, nearly devoid of all the stellar ejecta that made up the Dysion Shield. The craft began to move slowly into the opening....
Seven minutes later the craft shot back out into the Void, and immediately sent a burst message toward the Colony. Seconds later, the probe exploded. With no oxygen present in either the probe or that of the ballistic missile that struck it, the parts of both simply flew apart with no accompanying flash.
********
“Goddammit! Goddammit all to Hell!” Admiral Nash shoved the small stack of papers off his desk in an angry display and glared at Christian Bergmann. “No doubt about the signal?”
“No sir,” Bergmann answered, just as angry as Nash. “The burst was recorded heading straight for the anomalies.”
“They’re no longer anomalies, Chris. They’re bogies and they carry the mass of our entire fleet in only twenty vessels.”
“I don’t mean any disrespect, sir, but we need a decision. Go or no go?” Bergmann said, impatiently. He was visibly impatient.
“If it weren’t for the Cain Drive, I’d say we break off and return to Earth. But that’s not what we came here for. I’m sure we can run circles around anything the Kracori have ... but now this. We don’t know what those things are.”
“Go or no go, sir? The fleet’s got its ass hanging out.”
Nash slammed his fist down on the desk. “Go, dammit! We’ve come too far to turn back. Get the fleet through as fast as you can.”
Bergmann had already turned from the desk and was sprinting for the doorway leading directly into the CIC from the Fleet Admiral’s quarters. He was barking orders even before Nash finished his last word.
********
There was a small dining room and lounge area in the Pegasus, which now served as a bunk bay for all the excess passengers aboard. Once he had showered and changed into a dark blue tunic, Adam took his bruised, cut and aching body to get some real food in his stomach.
Rutledge and Riyad were in the room, as was a frankly hideous-looking Sherri Valentine, just now coming out of her much-needed slumber. She passed to a sink and splashed water on her face. Even then, her long, blonde hair—mat
ted into a spider’s nest of greasy confusion—only served to accentuate the still caked-on streaks of dirt and grim on her face. The brief rinsing at the wash basin, without the benefit of a mirror, did little to improve her look.
Still, Adam’s heart warmed at the sight of her. He truly believed she had died as the result of McCarthy’s betrayal.
She scooted into a booth at one of the two dining tables in the room next to Riyad Tarazi. She ran a hand over his chest and along his side. “Are you sure nothing is broken?” she asked. “It’s amazing that you had the will to survive. I would have given up after the first few hours knowing there was no chance of rescue or escape.”
“No you wouldn’t have, Sherri,” Riyad said warmly. “We Humans have a very strong will to live.”
“But what could you have possibly been living for?”
Riyad looked over as Adam took a seat next to Chief Rutledge and opposite the pair. “I don’t know; maybe just more minutes, more seeing, more breathing, more experiencing life ... no matter how tragic it may all be.”
“That’s deep, Riyad,” Adam said with a smile.
“We have all been in difficult situations, yet we will ourselves to go on. I can’t say why, except that the need to last a little while longer on this plane of existence is a powerful force.” He smiled broadly and then turned to Sherri with large, dark eyes. “Besides, I knew you would come to save me.”
“Bullshit!” Chief Rutledge said from next to Adam. “You had no idea we’d even try.”
“It’s called faith, Mr. Rutledge.”
“Then I can’t argue with that. If there’s anything to be based on an absolute lack of empirical evidence, then it has to be fact that we’re all sitting around here together—”
Geoffrey Rutledge’s face suddenly went dark.
“I am sorry that you had to trade John Tindal’s life for mine, Master Chief. I truly am. I know you were friends.”