Human Chronicles Part 2 Book 3: A Galaxy to Conquer

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Authors: T. R. Harris

Tags: #Fantasy, #Science Fiction

BOOK: Human Chronicles Part 2 Book 3: A Galaxy to Conquer
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Copyright 2014

T.R. Harris & Harris Publications, Inc.

 

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. The scanning, uploading, downloading or distribution of this book via internet or any other means without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal and punishable by law. No part of this novel may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the copyright holder, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

ISBN: 978-0-9913465-1-6

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Website:
bytrharris.com

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Books also by T.R. Harris

The Human Chronicles Saga

Part One

5 Books

Book 1 –
The Fringe Worlds

Book 2

Alien Assassin

Book 3 –
The War of Pawns

Book 4 –
The Tactics of Revenge

Book 5 –
The
Legend
of Earth

Part Two (3 Books)

Book 1 –
Cain’s Crusaders

Book 2 –
The Apex Predator

Book 3 – A Galaxy to Conquer

Contents

And now the final adventure in
The Human Chronicles Saga
begins, pitting all the great powers in the galaxy against one another for nothing less the survival of their respective races.

The stakes are higher than ever, the loyalties more blurred, and the losses even greater than could be imagined. Within an ever-changing battlefield, events seldom transpire as planned. The future is fluid, and the only thing that’s certain is uncertainty.

 

There will be twists and turns, surprises and disappointments, yet in the end—well that remains to be revealed….

Adam Cain is an Alien with an Attitude.

His adventures continue…

Chapter 1

An entire race of beings was about to exterminated.

F
or the past ten thousand years, the natives of the planet Aslon had been witness to one of the most awesome spectacles in the universe: a white dwarf star being devoured by a voracious black hole.

Even though the image was faint in the bright afternoon sky, at night the glory and savage power of the celestial event became more evident, as the brilliance of the massive accretion disk outshined even that of the planet's solitary moon. For the entire time the O'mly race had been evolved enough to notice, the fiery display of yellow and green gasses had cast a soft glow over the seasonal veil of night, bathing the ocean world in an iridescent light and creating an almost hypnotic dance of colorful sparkles upon the surface of the gentle waves.

It was estimated that this spectacular event would last another five thousand years before the gasses enveloping the solid diamond core of the white dwarf would be depleted. And then the singularity would disappear, not from existence, but from view. Now locked in an eternal dance with what would become a
black
dwarf star, the singularity would forever pose a hazard to interstellar traffic within the space surrounding the homeworld of the O’mly race.

Five thousand years is a long time in the lifespan of a civilization, if not that of a species. However if Captain David Robe, UESF, had his way the O’mly race would be extinct long before then. Actually, by his estimation, he was placing their lifespan at not more three weeks remaining.

The white dwarf/singularity grudge-match was located only a quarter-light-year from the Aslon star of Illin, and the twenty-five ships making up the Human invasion force under Captain Robe’s command had to pass through the rapidly decaying star system to reach the planet. Dave had very little experience with the wonders of deep space, so for him—as well as the bulk of his crew—this sight was a first. He stood before the wide viewport of his flagship—the
ESV
San Diego
—mesmerized by the awesome sight before his eyes.

At the center of the swirling accretion disk of yellow and green gas—being drawn from the dying star across a million miles of space—he could clearly see the eerie, pitch-black point signifying the event horizon of the singularity. He stood in absolute awe of the fact that this was a visualization of the process that powered all the mighty starships streaking across the galaxy, his own included. For it was within the logic-defying realm of the event horizon where the magic took place; where time stood still and the laws of nature could be circumvented, allowing Human and alien alike to travel the impossibly far distances of the galaxy.

Captain Robe’s ship was powered by a miniature version of the same inconceivable power that was eating the white dwarf, even though
his
singularity existed in only microscopic dimensions. However, even on such a small scale, it was still powerful enough to create the conditions necessary for his craft to cheat Relativity.

Traditionally, deep-space vessels such as the
San Diego
would be required to travel along designated space lanes far away from conflicting gravity sources such as planets, moons and asteroids. For these larger vessels, the strength of their gravity-wells was enough to disrupt the orbits of these bodies, and was capable of destroying entire stellar systems in the aftermath. However, the Earth Space Vessel
San Diego
—named in honor of one of the great cities of America destroyed by the Juireans nearly twenty years earlier—was a special breed of gravity-drive ship. She employed a concentrated-array of
eight
focusing rings, allowing the singularity to be created only a few hundred yards from the generators. Using Newton's Laws—which still applied in most cases—the gravity source was created so close to the ship that its influence was great on the
San Diego
, while having a negligible effect on surrounding bodies within a stellar system located at a much farther distance.

It was this unique ability of the concentrated-array drive that allowed Captain Robe's fleet of ships to move through star systems at speeds greater than any other ships in the galaxy. And even as he gazed out at the embodiment of a gravity-well space drive played out on a stellar scale, Dave felt honored and privileged to be in command of the first contingent of Human starships to be converted to the new drive.

The technology for the
con-ray
drive was new, introduced to the Earth by Captain Adam Cain, USN-RET, when he arrived just ahead of the Kracori fleet six months earlier. And even though he didn’t invent the drive, he was still given credit for what was now known as the
Cain Gravity Drive
.

Dave Robe had no problem ascribing even more accolades to the already-
Legend
ary Navy SEAL. Dave had been the senior officer-in-charge of the tech crew Cain had hastily put together to help repel the Kracori nuclear attack on the planet. It was during that action that Robe had witnessed firsthand Cain’s unexplainable feat of the mind that helped destroy the bulk of the alien attack fleet when it looked as if all was lost. Even though some of the alien nuclear bombs did make it to the surface, it was Dave’s opinion—as well as many others—that Cain's efforts that day had saved the Human race from total annihilation.

How Adam Cain did what he did had never been fully explained, and now Dave was sworn to secrecy as to the events of that day. Yet as a reward for this own efforts in stopping the Kracori attack, he had been given command of the first taskforce of Cain Gravity Drive conversions under the auspices of the new United Earth Space Force (UESF) and given his current orders. Dave’s small fleet of twenty-five Klin Fleet Vessels, C-Classification (KFV-C’s), would spill the first alien blood in what would become a galaxy-wide campaign of revenge and vengeance. And Dave’s actions would be just the beginning. With the speed advantage of the new starships, Humanity was out to conquer the entire galaxy and exact revenge on the enemies of Mankind once and for all.

Commander Hub Kittle was the first on the bridge to break his gaze from the spectacle outside the ship and return to his duties. At their present speed, they were just now entering the Aslon star system, and on the screen before him he could clearly see the defensive line that had formed. “Looks like they're expecting us,” he said to his captain.

The comment had its desired effect, as Dave Robe broke away from the viewport and joined Kittle at his station. “You would think they could’ve mustered a larger force against us. I only count about three hundred ships.”

“When faced with the extinction of their race, I would agree, sir. I'm launching drones now.”

Within minutes, the tiny, unarmed flitter-craft were sweeping along the line of spaceships tasked with repelling the Human invaders, their cameras sending back an almost sad series of images. Many of the ships sent out to engage the most-advanced warcraft of all time were nothing more than merchantmen with makeshift flash weapons bolted to their hulls. In fact, the two officers didn't see a single vessel that would be classified as a man-of-war along the entire line.

“Cain said the O'mly didn't have a war fleet; I didn't believe him, but there's no arguing with this,” Captain Robe said.

“Maybe they're saving their main force for closer in.”

“That's possible,” Dave said, “but first things first. Start your maneuvers, Commander; the show's all yours.”

Commander Kittle sat up a little straighter in his chair and smiled. “Aye aye, sir.”

Captain Robe took his command chair, located at the port side of the bridge, and buckled in. He unbuttoned the high collar of his charcoal gray uniform and worked the kinks out of his neck. He hated the new uniforms; they were uncomfortable and looked like something out of a
Star Wars
movie. He preferred his khakis, yet they had been retired almost four years earlier, as the military command of Earth had been integrated into one single entity.

Robe shook his head thinking about how the simple question of uniforms for the unified Human military had turned out to be one of the single biggest issues faced at the time. All the militaries of the world wanted their input and representation; it was utter chaos for several months. Finally it was decided that an entirely new uniform would to be created. That turned out to be this sterile, seemly modernistic-looking clusterfuck that looked like it belonged in a version of Orwell's
1984
rather than on the bridge of a starship.

Luckily, service ranks were an easier fix. Most militaries on the planet had a navy, and since operations in space more closely resembled naval operations, it was decided that those ranks would apply within the new United Earth Space Force, while ground units retained their traditional Army-Air Force designations, such a private and sergeant, colonel and general.

“Commencing first run, sir.” Commander Kittle announced from his station. On the tactical screen set to the left of the main viewport, Dave saw his tiny fleet separate into three squadrons. Ten ships each sped off to flank the long line of defenders, while the remaining five warcraft, led by the
San Diego
, accelerated to attack speed toward the center of the defenders.

Captain Robe knew his ships had such superior speed and maneuverability that he could have avoided this encounter entirely and simply bypassed the ragtag line of defenders. But his mission was to destroy the O'mly—or as many as he could with his limited resources. Command had stopped short of calling his orders genocide, but Robe knew better. The O'mly had assisted the Kracori in their attack on the Earth by providing a staging area for the strike force. That singular act had sealed their fate, and with a billion-and-a-half Humans either dead or dying from the nuclear attack on the planet, Humanity was done playing nice with the aliens. Any race that lifted an arm, tentacle or other such appendage against the Human race—no matter how slight—would be eliminated.

Two devastating attacks on the Earth were enough. There would not be a third, even if it took exterminating every alien race in the galaxy.

********

Captain Robe's five ships blasted through the center of the O’mly line at such a speed that the aliens didn't even know they were under attack until the Humans were completely on the other side of the line and back into open space. Yet as the five Human ships passed through, they unleashed a deadly barrage of flash-cannon fire that ripped through the defenders like a hot knife through butter. Thirty-two alien ships either exploded or were damaged to such a degree that they were out of the battle.

The O'mly—completely inexperienced in the art of war—at first didn't know what to do. Some of their units moved away from the center of the line, while others maneuvered to close the gap made by the Humans. The confusion and lack of a coordinated command resulted in the collisions of dozens of additional units, as their primitive gravity-wells overlapped with catastrophic consequences.

When Commander Kittle had his five ships double back for another run on the disjointed defensive line, most of the O'mly had decided that pulling away from the center was the best move. This resulted in a bunching up of the alien ships into two large balls of defenders … and it was then that the other two squadrons of ten Human ships each struck from the flanks.

Over the next nineteen minutes total confusion reigned among the O'mly ships. In the end, fourteen of the defenders broke away from the battle and headed in-system, the only survivors of the three-hundred ship defensive force. Commander Kittle sent three of his ships after them, and another ten minutes passed before the entire O'mly fleet had been destroyed.

Captain Robe was satisfied with the results of his first battle in outer space. All the defenders had been destroyed and only two of his ships had taken enough enemy fire to require immediate repairs. He ordered his remaining force of twenty-three ships to head for the planet Aslon at the best possible speed, while allowing the damaged units to limp in towards the planet on their own. He was anxious to see if the O'mly had anything else to throw against them. He was pretty confident they didn't.

Six hours later—and after the destruction of a secondary defensive force of ninety ships—Dave Robe’s Human fleet took up orbiting positions above the surface of Aslon.

Immediately upon achieving orbit, Commander Kittle dispatched a swarm of drones to survey the planet, and within minutes data was pouring in.

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