Human Chronicles Part 2 Book 3: A Galaxy to Conquer

by T. R. Harris

  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.

  Chapter 47

  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.”

  Chapter 48

  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.

&nb
sp; 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 would 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.

  The victory on the part of the Humans was utterly overwhelming. Even though a few massive barrages of energy-weapon fire had taken out forty-one of the Human’s nearly five thousand ships, not a single one of the Kracori defenders escaped.

  On the Juirean side of the ledger, they had suffered close to six hundred casualties compared to four hundred eighteen Kracori losses. The remainder of the Kracori defenders bolted in-system to form up with the over three thousand ships now gathering there.

  Jacob Nash shook his head as the final casualty totals came in. Admiral Christian Bergmann mirrored Nash’s worried look.

  “Damn, Admiral,” Bergmann said. “If the full Kracori and Juirean fleets had come together as planned, the Juireans would have got their asses kicked.”

  “And without the Cain Drive, the same might have happened to us.”

  That was a comment Bergmann did not wish to make, although he completely agreed with his commander. However, they did have the new gravity drive, and it had made a startling difference in the battle.

  “The Juireans are bound to lose their entire force in the next battle,” Bergmann said. “Although they’ll take a lot of the Kracori with them, there won’t be much of them left.”

  “That will make our victory even more of a guarantee, Chris,” Nash said. “I see that the Kracori are forming up near their sister world of Olypon. I guess they expect us to chase them around the planet for a while.”

  “We could head straight for Elision. That’ll force them to send their defenders that way.”

  Nash smiled. “Should we let the Juireans have the first crack at Elision, seeing what happened to Juir?”

  “Hell no, sir!” Heads turned on the bridge at Bergmann’s outburst. “Our death toll was higher and more recent. We have to be the first to set fire to that hell of a planet.”

  “I was just testing you, Chris,” Nash said, not losing his smile. “Of course we’re going in first. I’ll send the Juireans against Olypon. That’ll keep them occupied as we draw first blood on Elision. Relay the orders to the Juireans, Admiral, and then form up the fleet. Next stop: Elision.”

  ********

  Having to cut back on their speed to accommodate the much slower Juirean starships, the allied fleet was still ten hours out from Elision when Admiral Nash and his Juirean counterpart, Overlord Oplim, received word of an emergency CW–link coming in from the planet they were approaching. It was the Langril Nomar Polimic, attempting to make contact with the fleet.

  Nash had the link piped through to the Wardroom, where he, Admiral’s Bergmann, and Tobias and Captain Adam Cain were all having dinner. The Langril would be projected on a large screen mounted on the wall, while a smaller secondary screen showed the image of the Juirean Overlord.

  When all was ready, Nash nodded to a petty officer to initiate the link.

  Nomar Polimic was seated at a desk devoid of objects on its surface, and to his right stood a tall, hard-looking Kracori officer with a pale yellow sash across his chest. Adam had seen white sashes and purple sashes, but never a pale yellow one. The color had to be significant.

  Adam smiled when he saw the Fleet Admiral take another forkful of mash potatoes into his mouth before looking up to address the leader of the Kracori race.

  “You must be Polimic,” Nash said as he finally set down the fork and leaned back in his chair so he could look up at the monitor on the wall.

  There was a slight pause as Nomar opened and then closed his mouth, not sure what to do about the blatant lack of formality and respect in the greeting. He eventually chose to let it pass; he was in no position to protest too loudly.

  “That I am; Nomar Polimic, Langril of the Kracori people. And with me is Command-Tactician Galix Junin, the head of our military forces.”

  “I’m Fleet Admiral Jacob Nash, and I have Overlord Oplim ra Duric representing the Juirean forces also on the link. Are you seeing that?”

  “Yes I am. Yet where is Elder Wydor and his fleet commander? I would expect them to be on this link, seeing it is with a planetary head-of-state.”

  “Elder Wydor and Command-Overlord Enulic are on another, more important, mission,” Oplim replied. “They are currently in the process of destroying the Klin colony we discovered hiding within the Dysion Void.”

  “Klin ... in the Void?”

  Adam had to admit, if Nomar did know of the Klin’s existence so close to Elision, he gave an Oscar-worthy performance of acting like he didn’t.

  “That ... that is not possible,” Nomar stammered. He looked to the other Kracori in the room. “We have surveyed the entire Void. It is our home. How could we have not known of this?”

  “Nevertheless, they’re here—or at least they are for now,” Admiral Nash said. “Twenty-five hundred Juirean warships are about to make a meal out of them. I find it hard to believe you were not aware of the presence of your real allies right here in your own backyard.”

  Adam could see N
omar switch his gaze to that of the Juirean Overlord. “The Klin are not our allies. I once believed it to be the Juireans who held that honor.”

  “From what Elder Wydor tells me, we were your masters, never your allies—for as brief a time as that agreement was in affect.”

  Adam moved over closer to the Admiral, just to make sure that Nomar could see him on the screen. The move had the desired effect, as the Kracori’s expression suddenly went from shock to that of sour, rock-hard defiance.

  “Howdy, Nomar, how’s it hanging?” Adam said with a wide grin.

  “Greetings, Adam Cain,” the Langril said, his tone rough and the effort to speak like pulling teeth. “I see you have once again eluded me.”

  “Are you familiar with the phrase, three strikes and you’re out? No, of course you’re not. It means that you’ve failed twice before—but there won’t be a third time in your case.” The smile vanished from Adam’s face.

  “Perhaps.” Nomar turned his attention to the fleet admiral. “Admiral Nash, I have come to terms with the fact that the Juireans have switched allegiances and now side with the Humans. That is very unfortunate.”

  “For the Kracori,” Nash punctuated the statement.

  “Yes, for the Kracori. And that is the purpose of this overture. My forces are no match for the combined strength of both your fleets ... therefore I have no option but to offer our unconditional surrender to the superior forces of the Human-Juirean alliance.”

  “You seem to have a habit of surrendering, Kracori,” Overlord Oplim said with venom. “At this point, it appears to be strategy rather than a true capitulation.”

  “I assure you it is not,” said Nomar, an anxious tone to his voice. He was beginning to panic. “I am a pragmatic ruler, and I see no other option. And as an offer of goodwill, I will surrender my position as Langril immediately.”