Human Chronicles Part 2 Book 3: A Galaxy to Conquer (21 page)

Chapter 28

N
omar Polimic had suffered a broken arm in the destruction of his capital building, the worst injury experienced by any of his senior staff in the viewing room. He felt diminished by the injury; even Daninf had escaped unscathed.

When the rumbling began, Nomar had been quickly moved to a lower vault in the building, one designed specifically to protect the Langril against an attack on the Citadel. Emerging an hour later after learning the true nature of the attack, Nomar was so angry he was sick. He vomited twice in the shattered hallways, each time only serving to increase his anger and his anxiety. Although underlings came to assist him, he felt no embarrassment at his uncontrollable illness. He did not have time to be embarrassed.

The military command headquarters, located a few blocks from the Citadel, had escaped the attack undamaged, and Nomar set up his temporary office within the building. Once settled in, with a blue cast wrapping his injured left arm, it didn’t take long for the series of events over the past few hours to be deciphered.

Somehow, the Humans had gained access to the surface of Elision, and not only that, but right outside the Citadel. And then in a reckless and brazen maneuver, the Humans had used the gravity drive of their spacecraft to destroy most of the central building. Experts poured over the data from various sensors around the complex, and found that the gravity drive of the unknown craft was of an odd and unique quality, one which allowed the attackers to control the effects of the gravity-well with more precision than thought possible.

And then another hour later, Nomar received disturbing news that the Human ship had been passed through to the surface by one of his own Vice-Commanders, ostensibly to be offered to him as a gift. The details of the exchange escaped logic, and when the Vice-Commander could not be located in the aftermath, Nomar assumed he had been killed in the attack. The possibility that a Kracori officer could have been involved in a treasonous act did not even cross his mind.

As for the Human prisoners, they were nowhere to be found, not even their shattered bodies in the wreckage. Video surveillance had showed that the alien spacecraft had actually landed on the remains of the capital building; Adam Cain and the others must have made their escape at that time.

And escape they did. Further data showed how the alien spaceship had bolted through the atmosphere of Elision at a rate far higher than thought possible, and then once clear, had warped space to such a degree that the spacecraft had essentially vanished from the monitors. No known spacecraft was capable of such speeds, and especially not within a stellar system. And yet no residual gravitational effects were tracked from the passage of the craft.

Even through his anger, as well as the pain in his arm, the existence of such a craft worried Nomar to the core. This signaled a major breakthrough in propulsion technology, and worst of all, it was present in a Human-controlled spaceship.

Unfortunately, Langril Nomar only had a few moments to contemplate the consequences of a Human fleet comprised of superships within the overall scheme of events taking place within the Nebula. His military commanders had suddenly become very agitated, and were now demanding his attention.

The monitoring equipment within his capital building was now in shambles, and Nomar had not had an update on the battle being waged at the head of the Volseen Corridor for nearly three hours. Now the commanders were anxious to fill him in, and they looked nervous as they began.

Command-Tactician Galix Junin was the supreme military commander on the planet Elision. In the hierarchy of the Kracori power structure, he was only four steps below the Langril, with the other two positions held solely within the Ludif Council. Nomar joined Galix, as well as about a dozen other ranking officers, in the Combat Planning Center.

“Update, Tactician,” Nomar commanded. “I have to assume you have carried on even through the turmoil that has transpired recently.”

“Of course, my Ludif. I will show you where we stand at this moment.” Galix stepped up to the large screen in the CPC displaying the battle at the entrance to the Volseen Corridor in a dynamic and stark reality.

At first, all Nomar could see was mish-mash of clustered targets, both allied and Juirean. “Is the battlefield in such disarray intentionally? I fail to see a pattern.”

“The battle has not gone exactly according to plan, my Ludif,” Galix admitted.

Nomar’s mouth fell open. In light all that had happened recently, this was not news he could handle graciously. “Do not delay, Galix, complete your report!” he barked at his senior military officer.

There was only a moment’s delay as Galix composed himself after the Langril’s outburst; the Command-Tactician was not some common underling of the Landril’s, and therefore was not accustomed to such a disrespectful tone. “It appeared at first that the Juireans would pursue the allies into their systems as planned, yet that has not transpired. Rather, they sent out a screen of small, very fast vessels along the Volseen side of the Corridor and then passed large numbers of their capital ships through before they could be stopped.”

“The Juireans have entered the Void?” Nomar could not remain seated. He jumped up and neared the large monitor. “How many?”

“Most, my Ludif,” Galix answered. “With many traveling along one side of the Corridor, the opposite side defenders could not get there in time to assist those within the Volsee system. And the small Juirean units forming the screen have proved to be more suicidal than true warcraft. The allied units have suffered extraordinary losses to these small ships.”

“Have we not stopped
any
of their capital ships?”

“Some, yet most of the larger Juirean ships are electing not to engage the allies, but rather enter to the Void on full power.”

“Where are the Juireans now?”

Galix highlighted a section of the screen at the lower right with a control stick. “They are regrouping near Naylic.”

“And what of the Nebula forces? They are pursuing are they not?”

“Yes, my Ludif, yet the Juirean ships are faster. If they choose not to engage the defenders, then the Juireans can advance on Elision with clear space before them.”

“Clear except for Kracori forces, Tactician!” Nomar exclaimed. “When will you move to engage?”

“My staff is working on the strategy at this time, my Ludif. The original plan of leading the surviving Juirean units to our killing zones is no longer viable. The Juireans will be too strong to be guided. And it also appears that they have a singular goal of reaching Elision in the shortest time possible, even with massive forces in pursuit.”

“To what end, Galix?” Nomar asked as he studied the screen with more understanding than before. “With the combined forces of the Kracori and our allies, the Juireans will be bottled in, with no path for retreat.”

“That is correct,” Galix stated flatly.

A moment later the implication of the Juirean strategy became clear to Nomar. “They intend to fight to the last ship?”

“They have left themselves with no other option,” the Tactician added.

“Have you analyzed scenarios for this strategy?”

“Not completely, my Ludif. Yet it does not take much analysis to conclude that both sides will suffer catastrophic losses. Command had not planned for the Juireans to sacrifice their entire fleet to defeat us. That is not how they have fought in the past.”

“Galix, I need alternatives, and quickly. There must be a way to defeat the Juireans.”

“Langril Nomar, we
will
defeat the Juirean fleet; that is inevitable. We will emerge as the victors in this new series of battles.” Galix paused and then looked directly into the eyes of the supreme Kracori. “However, we will be only a shadow of what we once were before the engagement. The toll will be tragic, and we will survive with a fleet about as large that of the Volsee or the Tel’orans.”

Nomar felt a cold shiver pass through his body. A new thought had just invaded his consciousness. He had to speak the words, even though he knew the answer even before asking the question. “What of the Humans? They are only a few months away. Can we rebuild our fleet in time?” He didn’t feel this was the time to tell the Tactician about the supership the Human Adam Cain was now in control of. There were far more pressing issues facing them all in the present.

“We will not be able to mount an effective defense against them. It had already been determined that the Humans possess a superior fleet to the Juireans. And now after this ... we will have nothing with which to counter them. I am sorry, my Ludif, but the Kracori race will not survive the coming Human invasion.”

Nomar Polimic, Langril of the Kracori race, fell back into his seat. He no longer felt the throbbing pain in his broken arm. In fact, he felt nothing. He was numb—exhausted, defeated and numb.

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

T
he 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!