The Human Chronicles Saga

Book Nine

The Masters of War

EXPANDED EDITION

(Revised and Edited February 2015)

By

T.R. Harris

Copyright 2014 by T.R. Harris

ISBN: 978-0-9913465-5-4

All rights reserved, without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanically, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Dear Reader…

This special Expanded Edition of The Masters of War includes 22,000 more words than the original, and with an exciting new ending that has been expanded to include a final resolution to the battle for the Tanic Galaxy and against the evil Nigel McCarthy. This additional material was originally intended to be the first third of the next Human Chronicles novel, yet reaction to the first edition of The Masters of War called for it to be added to the end of this book rather than wait for the next one.

For those of you who have already purchased the first edition of The Masters of War, you will be able to download a FREE Updated Version from Amazon and begin reading at Chapter 32 to begin the new 22,000-word addition. This is essentially a novella added to the end of the original book, so you will be able to enjoy this new version without having to re-read the entire book from the beginning.

And for those of you who are purchasing the book for the first time, you will find this edition has been more professionally edited, as well as including an ending that wraps up this part of the Saga quite nicely.

It’s the miracle of eBook publishing that has allowed these changes to be made, responding to and resolving reader concerns as only digital media can.

I hope you enjoy the changes and additions. They were made for you, my loyal readers.

Sincerely,

T.R. Harris

February 2015

What other readers are saying about

The Fringe Worlds and

The Human Chronicles Saga…

This book is just plain fun. It's a light, easy and fast read; it doesn't mess around or waste words; and it doesn't pretend to be anything that it's not. It's just a throw-down space fighting, barroom brawling, shoot-em up, tough-guys in the galaxy tale that anyone with a sense of humor and a love of sci-fi in the flavor of Douglas Adams will enjoy.  – John Daulton

One of the best SF books I've read in a long time! Harris gives a concise story, efficient adventure and characters I cheered for! I can hardly wait for the next installment! – Genie233

A truly amazing piece of sci-fi literature that only has one flaw - once you start reading it, you cannot put it down, and that will make you reach the end of it rather soon. The story is extremely easy to read, amusing and leaves you hungry for the sequel. Read it if you look for entertainment that makes you feel better about yourself as a human. One of the best reads in the field of sci-fi that I have come across for years! – Urmas

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Also by T.R. Harris

The Human Chronicles Saga

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

Book 6 – Cain’s Crusaders

Book 7 – The Apex Predator

Book 8 – A Galaxy to Conquer

Book 9 – The Masters of Wars

Jason King – Agent to the Stars Series

Book 1 – The Enclaves of Sylox

The Masters of War

EXPANDED EDITION

Adam Cain is an Alien with an Attitude.

His adventures continue…

Prologue

Kroekus of Silea

Kroekus was half the Silean he once was; four months in a Juirean prison would do that to a person. He’d lost over two hundred pounds, and his gray skin was now mottled and covered with blistering sores. And even though his most-severe injuries had healed, to this day his captors were still dreaming up new and creative ways to torture and torment him even more.

In the dark dampness of his concrete cell, Kroekus often wondered why they kept him alive. They had plenty of evidence of his collusion with the Kracori to defeat the Juireans in the battle of the Dysion Void. In fact, it had been he who had manipulated all four major races in the galaxy to clash in one final, epic battle for supremacy, and for that he was directly responsible for the death of billions.

As it turned out, it was the Kracori who came out on the short end of the battle, with their homeworld of Elision ravaged by nuclear fire. It was a wasteland now, never to be inhabited again, and even though Kroekus was sure some of the species survived off planet, for all intents and purposes, the Kracori were now extinct.

Yes, the meticulously laid plans of Kroekus and his allies had been thwarted, and by none other than Adam Cain, that obnoxious, yet unbelievably lucky and tenacious Human. In the heat of battle he’d pulled off a miracle by bringing together the Juireans and the Humans as allies rather than adversaries. Next he’d sent the Juireans after the Klin as they made their escape. How many of them survived—if any—was anyone’s guess.

And now Kroekus was rotting away in a Juirean prison while Cain was in a prison of his own making, hunting down Nigel McCarthy in a region of space the Humans called the Large Magellanic Cloud, a small sister galaxy to the Conus-Lis Galaxy—as the Sileans called the Milky Way.

Kroekus had served as the unofficial head of the Expansion for the seven years the Humans had run the galaxy, before assuming the role of Administrator when they left. For five years thereafter he had been the Supreme Being in the galaxy. Yet even before that, Kroekus had been the richest being to have ever lived. And now here he was broken, sickly and subjected to constant mental and physical torture at the whims of his Juirean jailers.

He knew the Juireans could kill him at any time, and on countless occasions over the past several months he had begged them to do just that. Maybe that was why they refused.

He also knew he was no longer on Juir; that was obvious from the reduced gravity of this planet. This was an interesting fact that often gave him a false sense of hope, a feeling that faded a little more each day he remained in the prison.

 The Juireans had gone on to reclaim their native world, even though it was now only a shadow of its once glorious self; having an asteroid dropped onto the surface would do that to a planet. Although the experience was traumatic and heart-wrenching, millions of Juireans returned to their home and set about rebuilding all they could. This proud, yet pragmatic race also took over the reins of the Expansion once again, much to the relief of that chaotic and nearly-defunct organization. The thousands of worlds that had devolved into disarray and isolation after the fall of Juir now welcomed the resumption of a familiar structure and order to things. The Juireans were once more in control of the vast galactic empire they had helped create over four thousand years before.

After the battle of the Dysion Void, the Humans had returned to the Far Arm where they were now in the process of building their own small empire, free of any outside interference.

And the Klin? They were gone—again—at least what was left of them after the debacle at the Void. Kroekus believed a nest of them still survived somewhere, yet with the patience they had exhibited over the past four thousand years, he was certain it would be millennia before they would be heard from again.

These were the musings of the shattered and disgraced former ruler of the galaxy, as he lay in the dimness of his cell, at the mercy of the Juireans to determine his fate.

Even in light of his present situation, there were ways he could end his suffering. A headlong rush into one of the concrete walls, with his neck at just the right angle, would certainly put an end to his anguish. Or even an attack on his guards might force them to use lethal force to subdue him.

Yet he hesitated.

With his prison located on a world other than Juir, there was still a glimmer of hope, a chance. But after four months in captivity, Kroekus of Silea was nearing the end of his strength and willpower. If something didn’t happen soon, then he would have to take matters into his own hands.

********

It was that special day of the week, when the Juireans fed him a meat of some kind.

Kroekus couldn’t believe his good fortune, and yet still he sat for several minutes staring at it just in case the guards were toying with him. Finally he accepted the fact that the guards had inadvertently failed to clear all the bones from the carcass, and now he was in possession of a thin, two inch long piece of leg bone, splintered at the end into a fine point.

The Silean had no problem locating his carotid artery—all mammals possess such an important conduit of blood to the brain. A precise piercing of his neck would begin his final journey to salvation. They would not learn of his demise until long after the fact, and by then it would be too late. Kroekus laughed out loud at the thought.

He would beat them, denying his captors the pleasure of his constant torture. He would be dead, and there would be nothing the Juireans could do about it. In a small way, Kroekus would come out the winner once again. In his desperation, even a tiny victory such as this was enough to make him cry with joy.

He would wait until the guards removed the tray, knowing they would not return for another full day—unless a torture session was scheduled. Yet seeing that the Juireans had beat on him for a full two hours the day before, he was sure they would take today to rest. After all, inflicting pain and suffering on their captive was exhausting work.

When they returned to his cell the following day they would find his lifeless body, drained of its vital, life-sustaining fluid. His suffering would be over, and the Juirean guards would be punished for their lack of diligence. That thought made Kroekus giddy with joy; he even fantasized that they would themselves be put to death for their incompetence. He made a mental note to take that thought with him into whatever afterlife there may be. Another two hours should do it, and then he would have his answer—the answer as to whether or not an afterlife really did exist.

In all his time in the cell, Kroekus couldn’t remember ever feeling this happy or triumphant. So when the first shudder of thunder reverberated under the cell, he barely noticed, consumed as he was in plans for his sacrificial death.

But then came more thunder, accompanied by the sound of flash weapons in the room outside his cell.

He stood, the precious meat bone held hidden in his right hand. His heart was pounding and he smiled as a thought occurred to him: Either way, today will be my last as a prisoner of the Juireans. One way or another, I will be free.

The electronic lock clicked, and as the heavy metal door swung inward Kroekus had to shelter his eyes against the bright glare flooding in from the room beyond. There was now a figure standing in the doorway, merely a shadow against the brilliant contrast. And then the dark shape stepped further into the room and swung the cell door closed until the light from the outside was blocked to his sight.

Kroekus smiled, as tears of joy began to flow freely down his once-fleshy cheeks. He gazed at the lean figure before him, feeling an almost religious admiration come over him. When finally he could speak, he looked into the blue eyes of his rescuer and said, “Each time we meet, I can’t help but see how much you resemble your father.”

“You mean the father I’ve never met,” said the young Human standing before him. “Except for the few vids you’ve shown me, I don’t have much experience to confirm your belief. You must know that you are the only father I have ever known.”

Kroekus smiled as he grasped the outstretched hands of his savior. “And I take much pride in that,” he said. “Yet now I wonder: Are you ready to embark on the long journey of discovery—a journey not only to discover your past, but also your future?”

“I’ve waited my whole life for this; what’s another four months?”

“Then please, lead the way out of this dungeon, Eric. A fateful reunion awaits us both.”

********

Nigel McCarthy

The lean, hard figure of Alic Kiran studied the letters of marque on the datapad before looking into the pink face of the being called Nigel McCarthy. He shook his head.

“I fail to see the significance of these documents,” he said. “I accept the fact that you are a valued confidant of my associate Kroekus, yet I am at a loss as to what you expect of me?”

“Just that you allow us to observe,” McCarthy said. “From my varied experience, I may be able to offer suggestions as to better improve your operations and make more profit.”

“You know nothing of how commerce works in Tanic; you are an outsider.” Alic paused as he looked past McCarthy and at the small entourage of five other creatures who had accompanied him. They called themselves Humans, and from the sketchy information he had received over the years from the Silean Galaxy, Humans had once briefly ruled the Expansion, at times in partnership with his benefactor, Kroekus of Silea. This fact made the association logical, yet to rule the Expansion in the wake of the Juireans meant that these Humans were much more than a mere background race within the power structure of Tanic’s massive galactic neighbor. One did not reach such levels of power simply by fate or accident. It came from purpose and ability, both of which this alien was trying hard to downplay.

“You say you have come to observe, yet does it take a hundred of your kind to accomplish such a task?”

Alic had received the reports from the Kilis Spaceport of the three strange starships McCarthy had brought with him. Careful surveillance had revealed the true number of the Human’s associates. Even though he did not fear these Humans—after all what could a hundred beings do against his entire Clan—he still questioned why an emissary of Kroekus’s would need such a large number of ships and crew. In the past, the Silean had sent others, yet none had arrived in such force.

“Kroekus wishes that I remain in Tanic until his arrival. Without knowing his exact timetable, I felt it necessary to bring with me an extended family of sorts, seeing that we are the only Humans in your entire galaxy.”

“Kroekus is coming here?” Alic was surprised by the news. Why would the huge Silean bother with such a daunting journey, especially since as the leader of the Expansion his duties must be all time-consuming?

“That is his plan, although exactly when has not been determined. With our new concentrated-array gravity-drives, he can make the journey in as little as nine standard months.”

Alic raised an eyebrow. “How is that possible? I have received reports from the spaceport that your ships contain an over-abundance of focusing ring ports, yet it was only supposition that they were indeed for such a purpose. Are you now confirming this?”

“Yes. Each ship is able to concentrate generator power through an eight-ring array.”

“Again I ask: How is that possible?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m a diplomat, not a scientist. My engineers could better answer your question. Yet be assured, the concentrated-array does function, allowing for the deepest gravity-wells ever achieved to date.”

“Is Kroekus offering this technology to me? If so, then this will be a monumental leap forward in space-drive construction in Tanic.” Whether this McCarthy creature would allow Alic access to the drive or not was immaterial. Alic would take what he wanted even over the protests of Kroekus. Such a breakthrough in gravity-drive technology would be the biggest event in Tanic since—well, since the first gravity-drive was reverse-engineered and put into production by his ancestors over five hundred years before.

Nine months to Silea! And yet it also meant that creatures from Silea could come here just as fast. Suddenly the ramifications of this new gravity-drive began to dawn on him. Without his monopoly on Silean technology, the operations of his Clan would definitely be at risk. Now others could easily travel between galaxies, sharing knowledge, trade—and technology.

His thoughts were broken as McCarthy spoke again. “Yes, he is offering this technology to you; however, since this is such a major improvement over what you have, he is asking for a renegotiation of the terms of your affiliation.”

“What renegotiation? The agreements go back to a time before either Kroekus or I became the Lords of our respective Clans. They have worked well for five hundred years. What new terms is he proposing?”

“That I do not know, but I suspect it’s the reason he’s coming, so the two of you can settle on an amicable and profitable resolution in person.”

“And in the meantime I will not have access to this technology?”

“Unfortunately, those are Kroekus’s orders.”

“I could simple confiscate your ships and imprison you and your crews. I don’t need the permission of Kroekus to do this.”

“That’s true,” said McCarthy. Alic detected no fear on the face of the alien—which was strange in light of his tenuous position. “Yet then you will negate all past agreements and affiliations, and as you said, they go back five hundred years. Why risk destroying all you and your ancestors have built when I’m sure Kroekus intends to make it so that both you and he can make substantial profit? Is it not true that Kroekus and his Clan have provided you with the means to make an untold amount of gain over the years? You have to trust that he’ll do the same with the new gravity-drive.”

Alic was silent for a moment as he thought through his options. The decision was easy: He would indulge this representative of Kroekus’s, even though he would place a close watch on him and his activities. By doing so, Alic wasn’t giving up any of his advantage. He believed all parties understood that he could simply take this new technology as his own. Even Kroekus had to know that.

After a moment, Alic nodded. “Very well,” he said. “I will restrain myself from acquiring the technology of your new space-drive, at least for the moment. I find it curious, however, that even though you mention the possibility of Kroekus journeying to Tanic, I have not had any communication from him in quite some time. And if the rumors are true—brought to us by the few travelers coming to us from the Silean Galaxy—a major upheaval of some kind has taken place within the Expansion. This would make me suspect that something bad has happened to Kroekus and his power base.”

“I’ve not heard anything about that,” McCarthy said. “Yet with the new communications technology I also bring, I’m sure he will make contact soon.”

“What new communications technology? You say there is even more advances from Silea?”

“Yes; it’s called Continuous-Wormhole communications or CW-Comm. We have been stringing an array of the required comm-relays during our journey here. Once the network is established, we will have real-time links between stations for up to an hour at a time.”

Alic knew his jaw had fallen open as McCarthy spoke, now he snapped it shut again. Instant communications across intergalactic space, and nine-month transits between galaxies! His mind was fast becoming a jumbled mess as he sought to sort through his conflicting emotions. He could see how these new technologies could both benefit—as well as harm—his activities, one in the realm of propulsion, the other in communications.  After this meeting he would call in his top advisors to discuss contingency plans.

Indeed, this somewhat puny alien with the fiery orange hair had made an impact in the brief five minutes of the meeting. Whatever his true intentions, Alic was sure they did not include a benevolent attitude towards him or his Clan. McCarthy represented Kroekus and his family on Silea. For over five hundred years the creatures from the planet Silea—as well as the Galaxy that shared its name—had been feeding Alic and his ancestors what he was sure were simply technological scraps, just enough to keep him—and his entire galaxy—addicted to all the wondrous advances the Sileans could provide. And now Kroekus has sent this so-called diplomat as an advance party to his own arrival.

It didn’t take any great prescience to tell that this McCarthy beast was no diplomat. He carried himself—as did the others in his entourage—as those more accustomed to military discipline and sacrifice. Even though Tanic did not partake often in straight up military operations, they did engage in conflicts involving rivals. These clashes between the Clans were often isolated and brief, more-often-than-not involving only a single world or region. And they were mainly fought over profit.

Alic knew enough about their neighboring galaxy to know that its inhabitants often worshipped territory over profit. He had studied the concept and found it to be valid, since once one controlled a territory, the wealth within was usually confiscated, either by outright thievery or by various forms of taxation. The beings within these territories were usually powerless against their rulers, so it often took another conquest of territory to gain any sort of illusionary representation. In truth, one ruler was simply replaced by another, and the cycle began again.

Was Kroekus coming to do the same to Tanic? The Silean race was the most-ambitious and ruthless creatures he had ever encountered, so he would not dismiss the possibility, especially with the rumored turmoil embroiling their galaxy. Kroekus may be looking for more fertile ground to further his ambitions.

Alic could tell the warrior-diplomat was growing impatient with his long silence.

“The information you have revealed shall require much thought and planning; therefore, I would greatly appreciate your input during these deliberations, Nigel McCarthy. And now, after such a long journey, I anticipate that you and your crew would enjoy more spacious accommodations outside your tiny ships.” He turned to his second-aide, Rilos Mol. “Provide lavish accommodations for our guests, as much as they require. It appears they may be with us for some time. And now let us welcome them in as members of the Kiran Clan.”

“Yes, Lord Kiran. It will be done.”

“Thank you,” the creature called McCarthy said. “And since we are new here, I would appreciate a brief explanation of titles and forms of address within your Clan. We wouldn’t wish to offend.” The beast then bared his teeth at Alic, which within the current tone of the meeting seemed an inappropriate response. Surely he is not challenging me, not here, in my own court, and immediately after his stated wish not to offend?

“Of course, and I appreciate your concern. I am the Lord of the Clan—the leader. I believe you may be familiar with the term; the peoples of Tanic adopted it from references made in the early days for leaders in your own galaxy. Also, just as you, we have both superior and minor names. My superior and respected name is Kiran. My familiar name is Alic. Since we will be working closely together, you may address me as Alic in private, yet Lord Kiran in public.”

Again with the baring of the teeth; I will have to research this blatant display of physical challenge. It cannot mean the same to this creature as it does to us.

“Also, for advice, your apparent habit of baring your teeth at me and others could be construed as a combat challenge. If this is your understanding as well, then I must have completely misunderstood your intentions, and I will gladly accept your challenge. I pride myself with my combat skills and would welcome the opportunity.”

“Forgive me, Lord Kiran,” said McCarthy quickly. “Where I come from this is called a smile, and it is a sign of pleasure and goodwill—just the opposite as you have taken it.”

“Ah, that is very strange,” Alic said. “Yet I am sure I will find many other habits and traits associated with the Human race to be just as strange and unusual, if not confusing.”

Alic saw the alien begin to smile again, yet this time he merely widen his lips without showing his teeth. “I am sure that will be true, as it seems to be the prevailing attitude of most races we encounter.”

“Rilos, tend to our guests.”

Alic also prided himself on his ability to read the body language of others, including aliens; it was one of the talents that had helped him maintain his position as Lord of the Clan. And with this Human, he detected an almost wicked tinge to the Human’s last statement, conveyed in both the tone of his voice as well as the manner of his body. He would have to watch this creature carefully.

Rilos would see to it that all the proper electronic surveillance devices would be present in the living units of the Humans. Eventually, Alic would learn of McCarthy’s true intentions, and hopefully that of his benefactor Kroekus, as well. In the meantime, Alic had much planning to do in light of these new technological revelations. As he watched McCarthy and the other Humans follow Rilos out of his court, he knew that as a result of this brief encounter with the Human his life would never be the same.

Alic wondered if that was what the alien meant when he said other races had been similarly impacted upon meeting the Humans? Yet Alic Kiran was no ordinary being. He sensed danger in the Humans, and he trusted his feelings implicitly. He would not allow himself to be taken by surprise, not by Kroekus, and especially not by the Humans.

********

Nigel McCarthy had instructed his entourage not to speak after the meeting, believing that even distant conversations could be intercepted. Once back in the secure confines of their ships, they could discuss their next moves.

Unfortunately, there was no way for him to refuse the offer of accommodations off the ships, even though he knew they would be full of surveillance devices—the best the Tanic Galaxy had to offer. Even then, he was sure he could circumvent most of them, since his Artificial Telepathy Device could detect their presence, if not disarm them directly.

That was a curiosity which frustrated McCarthy to no end—that his ATD didn’t function fully within this galaxy. He could detect the presence of electronic control modules, yet he was unable to link with any of them. This failure was universal throughout all devices, so he felt there was no conscious intent to shield these devices, but rather simply a flaw in his own device.

Nigel was greatly upset by this development, since he had been counting on his secret weapon to help accomplish his mission. Now he would have to do it the old fashion way—with cunning, subterfuge and uncompromising force.

The first step had been taken; they had been accepted into the Clan. Yet Nigel also knew Alic Kiran didn’t trust them. His offer of outside accommodations was just a way to keep an eye on his team. As a result, Nigel was already gaining respect for the Lord of the Kiran Clan. It was always important in his line of work to give credit where credit was due, otherwise one had the nasty habit of underestimating the enemy. And that could prove fatal in the game Nigel played.

McCarthy also had to admit that he welcomed the opportunity to spread out and stretch his legs. Nine months was a long time to spend cooped up inside a steel cocoon, and even though the Humans did control the gravity level aboard their ships, the lighter gravity of the planet Anicett was a pleasant relief.

He also knew he was operating under a strict deadline. It was only a matter of time before Alic learned of Kroekus’s fate—that of a prisoner of the Juireans. Once he knew Kroekus wasn’t coming to the galaxy, all bets were off. Alic would simply take what he wanted and dispose of the garbage afterwards.

Also, from what little Nigel knew of Alic Kiran, the alien was not the type to let events simply play out. He would be actively looking to confirm everything Nigel had just said, including that Kroekus was indeed on his way to the Cloud.

Nigel couldn’t lollygag. His plan would have to be up and running within the month.

Adam Cain is an Alien with an Attitude.

His adventures continue…

Chapter 1

“I’m back,” said Adam Cain…

“...and I have the specifications you need.” He handed the datapad to the alien.

Nurick Nur, the Vicorean power-module dealer, scanned the data while wrinkling his moist, black nose. “I could tell you had returned when you entered the market, foreigner—by your smell. Is that the result of a medical condition or is your race just that inconsiderate of others?”

Adam Cain frowned at the outspoken alien, not knowing if he was serious or not. After all, for an alien to say anything about the smell of a Human, well, that had to be a joke, right? Yet the more he studied the smooth pink face of the mod dealer he saw nothing but a smug, almost sadistic expression staring back at him. 

Adam held his tongue, knowing his reaction would have been completely different if he wasn’t in such desperate need of the modules. But with another twelve-thousand light-years still left on his journey, it was either put up with the snarky remarks from this creature, or start looking for an apartment somewhere on this rodent-infested hellhole of a planet.

Unfortunately for Adam, the rodents ran the show on Vicor, including the vital supply of gravity-drive power-modules he needed. And what made the situation even more annoying was that the Vicoreans were quite aware of their unique position in the universe—as the first civilized way-station in over a hundred thousand light-years for traffic coming to the Large Magellanic Cloud from the Milky Way. As a result, any intrepid travelers risking the incredibly long journey to Vicor would have their ships literally running on fumes when they arrived.

So the insulting rat-bastard on the other side of the counter knew he had a license to spout off. Yet even as frustrating as it was to tolerate this obnoxious alien with an attitude, Adam Cain was more concerned about the coming sticker shock. That’s when things could get really dicey.

“So do you have the units I need or don’t you? If not, then I don’t want to waste anymore of your time or mine. I understand there are six other mod dealers on this street alone. I’m sure one of them will have what I need.”

“For such a tiny beast, you are overly arrogant,” the native said. “I have had much contact with creatures from the Silean Galaxy, but I do not recall ever seeing your kind come through here before. What do you call your species?”

“Is that really important? What I need to know is whether or not we’re going to do business, rather than get bogged down with a lot of useless trivia, like where I went to high school or what’s my favorite color.”

As usual, Adam comment was lost in translation, yet fortunately the alien let it pass. His pink eyes now bore into Adam. “Yes, I stock modules that meet your specifications, yet they are hybrids, not standard. There will be a surcharge, which I am sure you were expecting.”

“How much, including installation?”

The smugness now returned to the Vicorean’s face. “Well, foreigner, that is a relative question, is it not? Since it is obvious you are not from around here, the cost will depend on what you have in exchange for the mods. And let it be known, your colorful plastic chips mean nothing to us here. I will need something of real value before we can conclude our business.”

“So what’s valuable to you?”

The native looked down at the holster Adam wore around his waist and the MK-17 bolt-launcher it held. “We are always interested in the weaponry from the S.G. We have energy weapons of our own, yet your models and technology advance much faster than ours.”

“Sorry, I don’t have any to spare. I’m just a one-man—one-person—ship, so I don’t carry a lot of extra weapons onboard.”

“That is disappointing.”

“What else? Precious metals, gold for instance? I have plenty of that.”

“I would prefer technology, but if all you have is metal, then I might consider a trade.”

“How much…for how many?”

Nurick reached under the counter and pulled out a cube of dull metal about two inches square, placing it in front of Adam. “This is called a locbar, and it represents a standard currency unit of one hundred nilabars. An amount of pure gold equivalent to six of these will purchase one hybrid module with install, so depending on the purity of your metal you will need at least six locbars for each module requested. How many mods do you need?”

Adam lifted the cube. He had no idea what the price of gold was on Earth at the time, so all he could gauge the value by was how much he’d have left after the trade. He knew that the specific gravity of planets differed, sometimes in miniscule amounts, yet on others by tens of percentage points. He took out a datapad and made a few quick calculations. According to the references, a cubic inch of gold on Earth would weigh seven-tenths of a pound. So a cube twice as big would have six times the volume, or a little over four Earth-pounds of gold per module. He carried seven hundred pounds of gold onboard the Pegasus, so for the sixteen modules he needed it would cost slightly over sixty-four pounds of gold.

The offer seemed reasonable on the surface, but a few more calculations showed he’d only have enough gold for eleven such resupplies, and not counting other barter transactions he’d have to conduct while on mission. Unfortunately, he had no idea how long he’d in the Cloud or if there would be a possibility of replenishing his supply of the precious metal while here. And then there was the incredibly long return trip to the Milky Way to consider.

“I need sixteen modules.”

Adam saw Nurick’s rodent-like head shudder slightly. “Sixteen! Why so many?” And then the Vicorean’s eyes narrowed. “Ah…you are the one, the one with the odd spaceship now in port. You will notice that news travels fast on Vicor. I did not believe it at first—eight focusing ring terminals on one small ship. And yet the need for sixteen mods now confirms the rumors, as it is a multiple of eight. How is it that you can have that many rings operating at once without overlapping oscillation? That would be impossible.”

“You’re right…it is impossible. I just wish someone had told me that before I made the trip out here from the Milky Way—I mean the Silean Galaxy. It’s obvious now that I’m not really standing here in your store.”

The sour look returned to Nurick’s face. “You have much to learn of manners, foreigner. Yet even with that, I do have access to that many modules; however for your attitude, I will add an annoyance fee to bring the total for all the units to one hundred five locbars.”

“I’ll give you half that,” Adam said. This was bartering after all, and one never took the first offer.

“Did you not hear me correctly? I stated the price; it is reasonable, considering the uniqueness of your modules.”

Adam nodded, not knowing what message the gesture would convey on Vicor. “I understand that you’ve quoted me a price based on a barter transaction, yet because of your attitude towards me, I feel that price to be arbitrary and inflated. However, since I have nothing to base that on, I think it best if I compare prices along the street before agreeing to your terms, especially for such a large order.” Adam grinned at the alien.“But I will be fair. I will state your price and who’s offering it. I’m sure your competitors will agree that it’s a fair price and allow you to make the transaction. It should only take an hour to check with the other dealers.” He turned to go.

“Hold one!” the dealer called out before Adam could reach the exit. “Others along the strip are not as honest or as knowledgeable as I. You have specific energy requirements, and if I were purchasing such units, I would seek out the most-experienced energy dealer to fill my order.”

Adam turned back to the alien. “Are you saying your competitors are not as knowledgeable—or as honest? How do I know that to be true? I know nothing of your experience or that of the others. All I have is your word. I’m sure when I ask your associates about their experience—as compared to yours—I may receive a different opinion.”

There was an awkward moment of silence as the native struggled with his next move. It was obvious he’s been caught off guard by Adam’s negotiating skills.

“The others will lie.”

“And you won’t?”

More silence.

“Unfortunately, foreigner, your counteroffer is much too low. Yet for such a bulk order I will accept ninety locbars as a minimum.”

“Sixty.”

“Eighty…and that is the best I can do.”

“Then I will return after I do my research—or I may not.”

“Wait, what would it take for us to consummate this transaction at this time? It would be better for me to take a marginal offer now rather than risk you being deceived by one of my associates.”

“I will go as high as sixty-four locbars, that’s four each.”

There was an anguished look on the face of the hapless creature. “At that I will barely make enough to cover the cost of business during the time we have spoken. However, if you will return for more modules, then I could consider this an investment in future transactions.”

Adam grinned again. “Of course, my friend, you will become my exclusive power-mod dealer, and I will even recommend you to others.”

The lie seemed to placate the alien, even though Adam could tell Nurick didn’t believe a word of it. “Then can we consider our business settled? With payment, I can have the modules delivered and installed tomorrow. It is too late in the day for me to make arrangements for a tech crew. And one further item,” the alien said.“I request that you do not mention the price to anyone else. I have a reputation to maintain on my homeworld.”

“Consider it done—agreed upon.” Adam grinned again, being sure to keep his teeth from being fully exposed as he did so. “And now, where I come from we have a tradition of grasping hands upon the conclusion of a successful negotiation.” He reached out his right hand.

The long-snouted alien attempted a sour smile of his own as he reached out his hand to meet Adam’s. “You are indeed a rogue, foreigner, and with your bad attitude you may find trouble on Vicor—”

Adam grasped the thin hand of the alien…and began to squeeze.

Shock and anguish suddenly filled Nurick’s panicked eyes. His mouth fell open as he took his other hand and tried desperately to pry the other from Adam’s vice-like grip. “You are crushing my hand!” he cried out.“Any longer and my bones will break.”

And that’s when Adam pulled the alien in closer, until their faces were only inches apart. “You say I may find trouble here, friend? That I very much doubt. And now a word of advice: Prior to insulting a creature you’ve never seen before, it might be wise to find out what you’re up against before you start running off at the mouth.”

The alien was still attempting to pull away, but Adam held him firm. “I do not recognize the phrase running off at the mouth, yet I do accept your overall premise. If I have offended you, then I apologize.”

Adam released the alien. “Now that’s better. See, we can all get along if we just treat each other with respect. Oh, and one more thing: If you betray me, I will find you…and I’ll do the same to your neck as I just did to your hand. Do you understand that?”

Nurick fell against the back counter, rubbing his injured hand. “Yes, I understand. I am simply a channeler of merchandise. I do not wish to engage in a contest of strength with you—no matter how small and unassuming you may appear.”

Adam turned for the door. “Good. And by the way, I’ll have the gold at my ship and you’ll get payment there when the job is complete. So get the modules installed as soon as possible, if you want to get paid quicker. I have no desire to stay on your beautiful, friendly planet any longer than I have to.”

And then just before disappearing through the doorway, he turned back to the distraught Vicorean. “And since you asked earlier, I’m a Human, and if there’s one thing you on this side of the Gulf need to learn, it’s that you don’t mess Humans—not if you want to live beyond the encounter.”

Chapter 2

For creatures with gravity-drive starships—along with the means to manufacture power-modules for said vessels—Adam was surprised to find that the Vicoreans still used internal combustion engines for their surface transports. Now, as he slipped into the rear passenger seat of a local cab, he managed to take in a deep breath of the familiar-smelling hydrocarbon-filled air, while allowing distant memories to flood his consciousness.

Except for a few brief days over a year ago, Adam Cain hadn’t spent any serious time on his home planet in over five years, and even by then, electric vehicles of Juirean and Formilian design had already replaced traditional cars and trucks years before. He knew it was wrong of him, but the smells and sounds of a good ol’ fashion gasoline engine made him nostalgic for a simpler time—a time before his fateful abduction by the Klin, and before he knew anything of alien empires, galactic politics and four-thousand-year-old grudges. These unlikely events would go on to shape his destiny over the past seventeen years.

Damn, has it been that long? Adam thought, as he absently watched the alien city pass by through the window of the transport. His blasé attitude showed just how acclimated he’d become to his new reality, to the point where there was a real-life alien sitting not more than three feet from him—in the driver’s seat of the car—and he didn’t even care. The Vicorean was just another living creature, just like any cabbie back on Earth, to be used and then dismissed without a second thought.

And even the energy merchant—they call themselves channelers here—should have evoked some kind of reaction from him. After all, Nurick Nur was a six-foot-tall talking rat! Shouldn’t that have seemed odd?

Adam smiled, while thinking back many years ago to the first two aliens he’d met in this strange universe, the cargo-haulers Kaylor and Jym. He could vividly recall Jym’s emphatic statement—suspect at the time—that it was Adam who was the alien in their universe, and not the other way around. For years now, Adam had known what Jym meant; that with so many different species inhabiting the universe none were truly alien—just different.

And that’s how Adam considered the natives of Vicor; just another species, on another planet, in another galaxy, far, far away. And although he was only just now touching the fringes of the Milky Way’s small sister galaxy, he was hoping his time here would be brief.

His arch-enemy Nigel McCarthy had fled to the Cloud seeking safety and a new start for his criminal ambitions. Yet even though Adam believed his mission against McCarthy was just and necessary, he still couldn’t hide from the fact that he was growing tired of all the aliens he encountered along the way. They always seemed to put him in such a nasty mood.

********

The ride back to the spaceport took less than fifteen minutes, short enough that Adam didn’t have time to let his melancholy linger. Instead, all he could do was shake his head at what he saw as the cab passed through the gate and wound its way through the maze of parked spaceships towards the Pegasus.

There was a small crowd of Vicoreans surrounding his ship; someone had even brought a ladder and the butt-end of one of the rat-like creatures was sticking out of the Number Six focusing ring portal. The alien in the portal stuck his head out. “You are right, they are for focusing rings,” he called down to the others at the base of the ladder.

 “Get the hell off my ship!” Adam yelled as he ran up to the Pegasus.

The natives didn’t react to his demand; rather they regarded him with curiosity. “Do you engage all rings simultaneously, or are some used as backup or for special maneuvering?” the Vicorean in the portal asked, completely ignoring Adam’s protest.

Adam climbed a couple of the rungs of the ladder and grabbed the Vicorean by his long tail. He pulled, and in the light gravity of Vicor, Adam’s overwhelming strength sent the native flying out the portal and through the air, a high-pitched squeal escaping from his lungs as he flew. He hit the ground hard about ten feet way. His friends ran to help him to his feet.

“That was rude and uncalled for!” the rat said. Except for a fair amount of red dirt now on his light blue tunic, he didn’t seem to be injured.

“What was rude and uncalled for was for you to be crawling all over my ship. This is private property.”

The native and his friends were furious. “We were just curious; you could have injured me seriously.”

“You climb on my ship again and I’ll see to it that your injuries are permanent. And that goes for the rest of you. Leave my ship alone.”

“The rings probably do not even work well,” said one of the disgruntled Vicoreans as they began to wonder away.

“How could they?” another one asked. “It is impossible to have eight rings working in unison.”

With anger in his eyes, Adam watched until the last native was a full fifty feet way before he activated the door lock mechanism and let himself into the Pegasus.

“Bastards!” he growled to the room. “I knew I should have left the security on.” After seven long months alone in space, Adam Cain was now in the nasty habit of talking to himself—at least a lot more than normal. He would catch himself doing it at times and feel embarrassed, but only after an hour or so of silence-killing conversation. But right now he didn’t care. He had to vent, and he had to do it before he lost his temper and did something everyone—including himself— would regret….

Chapter 3

The next morning Adam received a link from Nurick giving him the estimated time for delivery of his energy mods; the install would take place later in the afternoon once the tech crew became available.

With four hours to kill, he went back into town to pick up some much needed supplies. Before leaving the Pegasus, he slipped several gold ingots into the pockets of his jeans, anticipating that another round of barter negotiations was in store. At some point, he knew he’d have to convert a fair amount of his gold into the standard currency for the galaxy. It would make future transactions that much simpler.

He was also still upset about the aliens crawling all over his ship, so this time when he left the Pegasus, he activated the external security measures he’d created. It wasn’t much, but any alien attempting to climb on his ship again would be in for a shock.

Two hours later, and with only a small box of food processor ingredients in his possession, he returned to the spaceport. The negotiations in town hadn’t gone as planned—the Vicoreans were pretty dim-witted in Adam opinion. He’d have to make do with what he had, and as soon as the mods were installed, he’d be on his way once again and glad to leave this backwards planet behind forever.

Yet as the cab approached the Pegasus, Adam found that for the second day in a row a crowd had formed around the ship, but this time they looked angry. Adam paid the cabbie—who wisely made a quick exit before becoming associated with the strange alien and his even stranger starship.

Adam pressed his way through the throng of Vicorean natives, emerging near his ship before any of them could associate him with the vessel.

“Are you the Lord of this craft?” one of the natives finally asked. The crowd began to close in on him.

“I am. What’s the problem?”

“That!” the native answered, pointing a finger toward the Pegasus.

Yet it wasn’t the ship the alien was pointing to, but rather the three unconscious Vicoreans lying on the concrete near the shiny silver hull. Adam walked over to the bodies; the crowd followed, but then began to lag back as they neared the ship. He knelt down and checked the pulse of the three creatures.

“They’re alive, just stunned.”

“Your ship did this to them. You could have killed them,” another of the Vicoreans scolded.

Adam stood and turned to the crowd. “Then they should have left my ship alone. I warned you yesterday that something like this could happen. And don’t get all worked up about it; it’s just a simple electrical charge running through the hull to keep people from getting too nosy.”

The confused looks on the faces of the aliens told him that the word nosy hadn’t translated very well. The translation bugs back home had nearly twenty years of assimilating Human slang and nuance in their database, but not so here. This was would be like starting all over again.

“Nosy—it means they shouldn’t have been probing around my ship. It’s private property. I employed the electric charge simply as a security feature. You can take your friends away for care; it’s safe to approach. They’ll be okay after a few minutes.”

The crowd began to gain more courage now that they knew what they were up against. Using the Artificial Telepathy Device he had implanted under his right armpit, Adam gained access to his ship’s computer system and shut off the electrical charge permeating the hull of the Pegasus. Next he sent a mental command for the side hatch to unlock. He moved toward the entrance.

And that’s when three of the Vicorean males moved up behind him. Sensing their presence, Adam turned to face the angry natives.

“What do you guys have in mind?” he asked. “Are you looking for a fight?”

“You are a foreigner to Vicor, and you bring a strange starship with a harmful and indiscriminate security feature. You are from the T.G., that much is obvious. Why do you come all this way to Tanic? We do not need anything you have to offer. And your kind will only come here to dominate and suppress.”

Adam took a step closer to the leader of the trio. “All I came for are power-modules, and once I have them, I’ll be on my way. Now, I’m sorry about your friends, but they brought the trouble upon themselves, just as you’re about to.”

All three of the natives wore flash weapons in holsters around their slender waists; on frontier worlds like this one the practice was common. However, it was obvious the natives preferred to use physical force on Adam, figuring that the much smaller, near-hairless creature wouldn’t be much of a challenge, and especially not against three of them.

That was just the beginning of an unfortunate series of events all three would soon come to regret.

Two of the Vicoreans lunged at Adam from opposite sides, grabbing at his arms, while the leader reached for Adam’s weapon. The Human spun to his left, easily breaking the grips on his arms, while also landing his right elbow hard across the face of the attacker in front of him. The leader dropped like a rock, while his two companions tried in vain to find another handhold on the slippery alien.

By this time, Adam was both bored and pissed off at the same time. He caught the left arm of his nearest opponent and swept it under his right armpit, and then he jerked upward. The cracking of bone was audible, as was the guttural scream from the native. Adam shoved the writhing attacker aside, while dispatching the remaining Vicorean with a lightning fast left cross to the alien’s long snout. Nothing fancy, just a knockout blow that left the rest of the crowd shocked into silence and inaction. At least for a moment, until one of the Vicoreans in the crowd began to draw his weapon.

Adam was on him in a heartbeat, his own weapon drawn and placed squarely in the face of the native, even before the rat-creature’s own weapon had cleared its holster.

A tense moment passed as Adam waited to see if the Vicorean would continue to draw his weapon. The native’s hand still held firm onto the grip.

“That would be a major mistake, my friend,” Adam said. The cold, hard barrel of the MK-17 pressed firmly against his head served to convince the native that Adam was serious. The Vicorean released the weapon. Now Adam grinned and used his free hand to disarm the native. “You don’t mind if I hold onto this for a while, do you?”

The native shook his head vigorously. Good, Adam thought, at least that gesture is universal around here.

Adam backed away, watching the crowd with his own MK still held at the ready. Many had begun to move away, figuring that even though they were upset about their friends, they weren’t that upset to risk the wrath of this dangerous little alien.

Adam was glad to see calm return to the crowd, yet he also knew this was just the beginning. Even as others came up to help their injured comrades to safety he knew a call would be made to the local police force. With his ship sitting idle waiting for the new energy modules to arrive, all he could do was deal with the consequences as they came.

Damn aliens, Adam thought. Can’t they tell Humans are peace-loving creatures—except when provoked. So why do they always go around provoking us?

********

Adam entered the Pegasus and locked the hatch. Feeling frustrated and depressed, he moved to the bridge and lowered the front reentry shield from the viewport. He could see the entrance to spaceport, and now all he could do was wait to see which came first—either Nurick with his energy modules or the local police, who would be all huffy and belligerent since they would have heard only one side of the story.

This was his first real planetfall in over seven months, and in less than twenty-four hours he’d had to put an alien merchant in his place, send knockout blows to three more and threaten to blow the head off of another. Sadly, this was par for the course for Adam Cain and his interactions with aliens.

With that thought in mind, Adam went to the food processor and called up the closest thing to an IPA beer he could manage, and then ensconced in the padded command seat on the bridge, he made quick work of the drink. Staring out the viewport, he knew it would take at least a second beer—and possibly a third—before he’d begin to relax.

He didn’t have time for any hassles with the local police, and if Nurick could get here before they did, Adam could use the four modules he already had to jump off the planet, even without installing the new mods. He wouldn’t be fast, but it would be enough to get him away from here.

From what little he knew of the LMC and its territorial divisions, Vicor was an isolated planet whose jurisdiction ran out to wherever the natives felt was needed. He was hoping they wouldn’t care that much to pursue him very far. And if he did get the time to install the full array of eight focusing rings while on Vicor, then there would be nothing in this galaxy that could catch him.

After returning to the chair with another beer—and a spare—he began to catalog the scant intelligence he was working on with regards to his mission.

Once the Juireans had used their not-so-subtle interrogation techniques on Kroekus, the former Expansion Administrator had provided as much information as he had about the LMC and McCarthy. Now the fat Silean was vacationing in a Juirean prison somewhere, having taken the greatest fall from grace of any living creature; from leader of an entire galaxy, to now a broken and disgraced convict whose days were numbered.

And Adam had liked the fat criminal mastermind. He’d known him for over fifteen years, and they’d had many a dealing in the past, both in Adam’s role as a hired assassin, as well as a leader of the resistance against the Juirean Expansion. Yet when it was revealed that Kroekus had been the mastermind behind the battle of the Dysion Void—between the Humans, Juireans, Kracori and Klin—he ceased being a friend. Unfortunately, his co-conspirator, Nigel McCarthy, had fled the galaxy before the shit really hit the fan.

Kroekus hadn’t been so lucky.

Even though he was directly responsible for the destruction of entire planets, Adam was still in awe of the Silean’s accomplishments, be they good or bad. He had even managed to expand his ambitions to another galaxy.

More correctly, it had been Kroekus’s ancestors who had first initiated the ties with the Cloud, trading Juirean and Formilian technology in return for astronomical profit. This began in the days when a journey to the Cloud took ten years—one way. But even then, for the right price they had been able to find crews for their merchant ships, and had laid the groundwork for the Silean’s planned move to the small sister galaxy of the Milky Way as a way to avoid prosecution for his criminal activities.

Unfortunately for Kroekus, Adam had interrupted his plans.

But now with the concentrated-array gravity-drive, a journey to the Cloud could be made in as little as nine months. Adam was sure the impact on both galaxies would be profound from this breakthrough in propulsion technology.

The CA drive had only been around for a little over two years, but already a literal parade of merchants, military and rogues of all kinds were heading for the virgin territory that the Cloud offered. It was like the California Gold Rush all over again, only on galactic-strength steroids. Some came with good intentions; most did not. And knowing Nigel McCarthy as he did, Adam knew that the huge Brit wouldn’t settle for anything less than complete domination of the small galaxy and all its criminal activities.

To that end, Kroekus had provided Nigel with three CA-equipped starships, along with a hundred Human volunteers. He had weapons, he had cargo holds full of precious metals, and he had a small army of Human supermen—which Adam knew was the most dangerous thing the unsuspecting natives of the Cloud had to fear, even if they wouldn’t realize it until it was too late.

Kroekus had provided McCarthy with names, locations and other insider information that would make his takeover of the galaxy that much easier. According to Kroekus, his main contact was a creature named Alic Kiran, who the Sileans had made the most-powerful being in the galaxy through his monopoly on Milky Way technology. And even though that monopoly would now be threatened by the flood of others coming to the Cloud, it was Nigel McCarthy who Alic should fear the most. McCarthy knew everything about Alic that Kroekus did, yet the unsuspecting alien knew nothing of McCarthy, except that he was an associate of Kroekus’s.

Adam knew Alic’s location, so he knew where McCarthy would be. Unfortunately, the former SAS officer had a two month head-start on him. And if Adam did get bogged down in legal troubles here on Vicor, then that would give McCarthy even more time to make his move and secure his position. Already he was looking at confronting not only McCarthy, but also his entire Human contingent. Adam didn’t fear the aliens; he’d been able to handle them without too much trouble in the past. However, it had always been members of his own race that posed the greatest challenge for him.

But now with three beers in his belly, Adam was thinking his luck may be changing, as a two-truck caravan entered the spaceport and headed his way. This would be Nurick with his power-modules. Another few hours and Adam would be off this stinking planet and back in the hunt for Nigel McCarthy.

“This calls for another beer,” he said out loud—as usual. “Hell, this day may turn out okay after all.”

As was so often the case, he spoke too soon.

Chapter 4

“Nurick, my alien buddy!” Adam said as he half stumbled out of the Pegasus. Three beers on an empty stomach—and working on a fourth—were having their effect.

“I am not the alien here—”

“Yeah, I know, sorry about that; old habits. Can I get you a beer?”

“That translates as an intoxicant. I would prefer to conclude our transaction first, since there has been talk that you have caused more trouble while where.”

“Damn, dude, you do have big ears, don’t you?” He laughed when he saw Nurick’s long, pointy ears flutter. “That’s so cool; Jym had ears like yours, too.”

Nurick made a rat-like frown. “Please show me where to unload the modules. And I will need payment once the installation is complete.” Four other Vicoreans stood by the trucks, waiting for the go ahead.

“Of course; I just unlocked the aft loading bay. It’s small but it’s just around the port chem-landing tube. Follow me inside and I’ll get your cash.”

Nurick nodded to his crew and they set to work offloading the modules. The merchant then followed Adam into the Pegasus. Adam’s ship was a hundred and fifty feet long and shaped like the fuselage of a conventional airplane from Earth, with two small wings extending to each side, along with a pair of hefty-looking tubes below the wings containing the chemical-assist launch and landing engines. There were only four portholes along the length of the ship—two on each side—other than the forward viewport on the bridge. The ship had a small galley and dining area, two full staterooms, an aft cargo bay, and two storage holds—port and starboard—between the rocket engines and the body of the ship. The two holds had once been crammed full of all the provisions he needed for the prolonged mission in the Cloud, which now were nearly depleted—everything except his gold.

Adam led Nurick down the central passageway to the starboard cargo hold. Once inside, he pulled back a tarp to reveal the pile of brass-colored metal ingots, each weighing five pounds.

Adam noticed the startled look on Nurick’s face. “Impressive, isn’t it—but don’t get any ideas.”

“Why am I not allowed to have ideas?”

“I mean don’t get any ideas about stealing this gold from me.”

“I had no such thoughts. I have also witnessed personally what you are capable of, as have others, if the reports are true.”

“They started it! I just want people to leave my ship alone. Is there anything wrong with that?”

“Two of the Vicoreans you hit have been seriously injured, and one of the others struck by the electrical charge from your ship is also suffering a longer recovery than the others.” Nurick looked past Adam at the pile of gold. “I would suggest we conclude our business promptly.”

“Right on.” Adam began to count out thirteen of the ingots—he’d give Nurick a one-pound tip over the settled price of sixty-four pounds.

“I have a testing device with me,” said Nurick.“The price I agreed upon—reluctantly—was for the purest quality gold.”

“I only have 24-carat,” Adam said.

“I do not know what that means, yet my device will be able to determine quality in a matter of seconds.”

“Go for it.” Adam stepped aside to give Nurick access to the pile. The Vicorean hesitated slightly before stepping forward, unsure of the translation of ‘go for it.’ But then he produced a small device about the size of a pack of cigarettes and swept it across the nearest ingot. He then proceeded to scan several others at random throughout the pile before reading the meter.

“Yes, this is indeed top-purity metal. I will accept your payment.”

“Groovy!”

Nurick’s eyes just blinked several times. “I will go supervise the loading and installation of the modules and then return to the forward section of your ship to collect payment. I may need assistance moving this much gold to my transports.”

“Sure thing, I’ll have it on the bridge.”

Nurick moved aft and entered the cargo bay from inside the ship, while Adam carried the sixty-five pounds of gold forward to the bridge. On Vicor, the gold weighed approximately fifty pounds instead of sixty-five, so he was glad they went by volume here and not by weight. Even then, the fifty pounds of metal would be too much for the Vicorean to carry by himself.

As Adam entered the bridge, with his hands overburdened by the thirteen ingots of gold, he found he was suddenly face-to-face with four other Vicoreans, all wearing dark blue uniforms.

There was an awkward moment of silence as Human and aliens stared at each other, with the Vicoreans also eyeing the gold Adam held cradled in his arms.

A Vicorean with a white sash across his chest spoke first. “You are the Lord of this ship,” he stated. “We are here in response to a report of physical violence you perpetrated on citizens of Vicor. That is a very serious charge, especially when caused by an alien.”

“I was defending myself that was all. Can I set this down?”

Without waiting for permission, Adam forced his way through the four native police officers and set the gold on the counter of the ship’s comm station. He turned back to the police. “I was attacked by an angry mob who was upset about the security measures I took to protect my ship. Mind if I have another beer?”

Adam once again moved between the bewildered rat-like creatures and got another IPA out of the processing unit. He took a long gulp of the potent beverage.

“I don’t drink that much anymore, but damn, this sure tastes good right about now.”

“It may not be wise for you to engage in the consumption of an intoxicant as you answer to the charges brought against you. As I said, this a very serious matter and should be treated as such.”

“I know it is; that’s why I drink.” Adam let loose with a full tooth grin before he thought better of it. The widening red eyes of the four native police officials brought Adam back to his senses.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean anything with the whole teeth-baring thing.”

“It would not be wise to challenge Enforcers, foreigner.” One of the other rat-cops actually growled at him.

“Like I said, I wasn’t challenging you. Now why don’t we just go ahead and get this whole misunderstanding settled. I ran a small electrical charge through my ship to keep people—Vicoreans—from getting too curious. Unfortunately, three of them had to learn the hard way, and then another three of their buddies attacked me as I was entering my ship. And then another one in the crowd went crazy and pulled a weapon on me. I wasn’t looking for a fight, but they got one anyway as I defended myself. What’s wrong with that?”

“Is it then your defense that you harmed six Vicoreans and threaten another with your weapon out of self-preservation? And yet there the six victims, plus several others, who say it was you who initiated the confrontation.” The lead officer hesitated as he scanned Adam up and down. “I find it hard to believe that you could have bested six Vicoreans, without you having initiated the attack, and by unseemly methods.”

“You think I sucker-punched them?” Adam was too drunk not to grin at the formal speech of the alien, although this time he kept his teeth covered.

“I do not understand the term, yet I believe you struck first, and unexpectedly.”

“That’s the definition of a sucker-punch, dude. But it didn’t happen like that. They attacked me first.”

“And yet you still stand, while the others do not. How do you explain that?”

“Lucky, I guess.”

The native police officer had had enough of Adam’s wise-cracking answers. “I will now be placing you into confinement and confiscating your vessel. There are too many inconsistencies with your testimony, against that from so many more-respected witnesses. I tend to favor their version of events over yours.”

Adam pursed his lips and shook his head slightly. “I was afraid you were going to say that. So now I supposed you’re going to put me in restraints?”

“That is correct, and I implore you not to resist. You may have bested three other Vicoreans in a physical confrontation, yet they were not as skilled at combat techniques as are we.”

“Oh, I’m not going to resist,” Adam said. “In fact, here, lock me up.” He extended both his arms and held his wrists together out in front of him.

One of the other officers stepped forward, ready with a pair of metal handcuffs to secure around Adam’s wrists.

“Oh, I see I have interrupted a serious event!”

The Nurick’s unexpected voice caused all the officers in the room to turn their heads towards the entrance to the bridge. “Oh, hey, Nurick,” Adam said. “You come for your money? Okay, I’ll be with you in a minute.”

The Enforcer with the handcuffs pulled his attention back to Adam just as the Human snatched the cuffs from him—and in a blur—snapped them onto the wrists of the officer. “Oops,” Adam said. “That isn’t how it works, right?”

All the Vicoreans were shocked into inaction, and stayed that way long enough for Adam to sweep in between them and pull their primitive flash weapons from their holsters. He stood back now holding the guns, two in each hand. “Wow, how did these get here?”

“What you have just done is entirely inappropriate,” said the lead officer. “You indicated you would not resist.”

“This isn’t resistance,” Adam said. He then let three of the weapons fall to the floor while retaining the fourth in his grip. He stepped up to the officer and planted the MK against the tall rodent’s chest. “But this is,” he said, lowering his voice until it was almost a growl of his own. But then he laughed again. “I’m sorry, but you guys look so funny that it’s hard to act like Clint Eastwood with a bunch to talking rats.”

“Your attitude, alien, will get you in much trouble if you persist any further.”

He motioned with the gun toward the door to the bridge. “Yeah, I hear that a lot. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll ask you to leave my fine ship and resume your normal activities.”

With grunts and groans, the four officers soon found themselves outside the ship, disarmed and humiliated. Adam secured the hatch with a command through his ATD, while at the same time activating the gravity generators. He would use chemical thrust to lift out of the spaceport, yet a mile or so up, he’d initiate a shallow gravity-well and streak off toward space.

He slipped into the pilot seat, where through the viewport he could see the four Vicoreans police officers running for their transport. They jumped in and barely made it to safe range by the time Adam sent a massive cloud of hot chemical exhaust through the lifting tubes. The Pegasus lifted straight off the ground, until Adam aimed the ship at a sixty degree angle toward the stars.

Adam was pressed back in his seat from the rapid acceleration, but this was soon counteracted when he initiated the gravity-well, along with the internal compensators. Soon the light of the Vicorean atmosphere gave way to the clear blackness of space, where the few nearby stars ceased to sparkle and instead blazed bright and steady; yet his view was dominated by the white glow that spread across half the vast expanse of space before him.

It was the globular cluster known on Earth as the Large Magellanic Cloud, yet by the name of Tanic by the natives here. Being this close, the cluster dominated his view, and once clear of the gravity of Vicor, Adam engaged four of his focusing rings with the most power in reserve, deepening the well. 

Within minutes he was beyond the two moons of Vicor and racing toward the outer regions of the Vicorean star’s planetary disk and toward the brilliant white cluster of stars ahead.

The system was full of space traffic, including, Adam was sure, a few police vessels on station. From the information Kroekus had provided, the Vicoreans didn’t maintain a military force—very few of the races within the Cloud did. Instead, they substituted any unified galaxy-wide governmental entity with dozens, if not hundreds, of small affiliations called Clans. These coalitions formed as way of fostering trade among worlds more than from any shared philosophy or dominant military force. Adam was sure that would change with time as the races interacted with each other more. Yet according to Kroekus, the Cloud—Tanic—had only had faster-than-light travel for five hundred years or so, having acquired it from the first intrepid voyagers to the galaxy. This was only a short time before Kroekus’s ancestors made contact, and from then on the technology of the Milky Way was available—for a price.

Yet because of the vast distance between the galaxies, the scientists and engineers of the Cloud merely reverse-engineered the items Kroekus and his family sold them, rather than wait decades to receive them in bulk from the Milky Way.

Kroekus’s powerful ancestors—from the planet Silea—had dominated the early contact with the Cloud, and over time the galaxy where the Sileans came from became known as the Silean Galaxy, rather than just the name of the planet where the race originated. To Adam, it was just one more layer of confusion on top of everything else.

Adam got his first taste of this knock-off Milky Way technology when he arrived on the planet Vicor—his first stop on the outskirts of the Cloud after seven long months in space. It was here that he discovered his Formilian Artificial Telepathy Device—his ATD—was just a little out of sync with the computer processors built here. Based on the ubiquitous Formilian design that was so prevalent throughout the Milky Way, Adam found that even though he was able to detect the presence of these processors, he was unable to sync up and gain access to them. He was sure it was simply a matter of making a few minor adjustments to his device to correct this flaw, but he had neither the means nor the expertise to make these adjustments.

So to his disappointment and frustration, his ATD was essentially useless in the Cloud—except as a way to make sparkling energy balls out of the free electrons present in the atmosphere, to the delight of alien children everywhere.

However, Adam could still control all the systems aboard the Pegasus with his mind since the ship had been built by Kroekus at a time when he and Adam were still friends. So without any physical effort, he linked with the ship’s main computer and scanned the surrounding space, looking for any signs of pursuit. It didn’t take long for his scan to produce results; two groups, one from the planet and another at an oblique angle to his path, originating in the outer reaches of the star system. He changed course, angling away from the nearest ships.

He also picked up a series of urgent communications, each demanding his immediate return to Vicor and surrender. He ignored them all.

After a few quick calculations on the nav computer, he found that with his current energy output he could barely maintain his lead over his pursers. This was a problem, since it meant he wouldn’t have time to shut down and install the new power-modules, not with the Vicoreans right on his tail.

And then a horrible thought crossed his mind: Had the new modules even made it aboard the Pegasus before he bolted off the planet?

The thought sobered him up rather quickly.

Adam left the bridge in a panic and raced aft toward the cargo hold. He knew from his ATD that the rear bay doors were closed and had been since before lift-off. Hopefully this meant the modules were secure in the hold, and that was when Nurick had come looking for payment.

Speaking of Nurick, I wonder what happened to him? Adam hadn’t seen him in the spaceport during lift off, and he hadn’t stuck around on the bridge long enough to collect his gold while Adam had his little run-in with local law enforcement. He sincerely hoped the alien hadn’t been caught up in the fire from his lifting engines. The tall rat was obnoxious and rude, but he was beginning to grow on him.

Adam pulled open the pressure door between the main section of the Pegasus and the cargo hold and immediately breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the sixteen power-mod crates all neatly stacked and anchored to the deck with tie-downs. They were all there.

As was his gold.

Adam had to smile. He had sixteen brand new hybrid power-modules onboard and he hadn’t spent a dime for any of them. Of course, in reality he knew they’d been stolen; however, that wasn’t his original intent. He shrugged. Just add that to my rap sheet—along with assault, reckless endangerment, resisting arrest and humiliation of local law enforcement officers—if that’s even against the law. Oh, well, it’s a pretty good bet I won’t be coming back to Vicor anytime soon….

He headed back to the bridge—and that’s when he heard the noise.

He stopped in his tracks and Listened for the sound again over the constant hum of the gravity generators. Luckily, Adam was so accustomed their omnipresent sound that he could clearly hear the unfamiliar, low-pitched groan again over that of the generators. It was coming from the starboard-side cargo hold—the room where he kept his gold!

Adam activated the sliding door to the room with his ATD and jumped inside. He was unarmed, yet he didn’t care. This was his gold, and he would do anything to protect it.

To his somewhat conflicted surprise, Adam was relieved to find a very scared-looking Nurick Nur inside the cargo hold. The alien was slumped over and panting heavily—while also holding a flash weapon leveled at Adam’s chest.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Adam shouted. Even though he was unarmed, he wasn’t worried while confronting the energy merchant—which may have just been the alcohol talking.

“Came aft…after your confront…with Enforcers,” Nurick panted. “Payment unlikely. Came…for collection.”

“And then the ship took off,” said Adam.

“Yes…and now…gravity! How you survive?” Nurick gasped for air, appearing on the verge of collapse.

“I’ll adjust it in a moment—”

“Must…return me…to Vicor,” Nurick continued, each breath forced from him with incredible effort.“Do so…I not lodge…complaint.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t go back to Vicor. Your buddies with the white sashes are fast on my tail, and it’s the least I can do just to maintain the current spread between us.”

With Nurick nearly about to pass out, Adam calmly stepped forward and took the bolt launcher from his hand. The Vicorean offered no resistance.

“Not go…wherever you go.”

“That I can’t argue with,” Adam said, “but now is not the time for me to do anything about it. Once they stop following, I’ll drop you off at some nearby planet and let you get back to Vicor as best you can. I’ll still pay for the modules, so you’ll have plenty of money to get back to your home.”

Using his ATD, Adam accessed the ship’s internal gravity controls and backed off on the well-intensity some. He had had it set at twenty-five percent over Earth-normal for months now as he sought to gain even more strength and muscle mass during the long journey. He had no idea what he’d come up against in the LMC, so he reasoned being even a little more of a superman couldn’t hurt.

It also meant that it was easily twice that of Vicor’s.

Relief was immediately visible on Nurick’s long face, even though Adam detected the unasked question as to how the gravity had been adjusted without Adam touching a control. Beyond that, it was obvious the Vicorean had more pressing issues on his mind than the gravity aboard the Pegasus.

“Do you not realize where you are, foreigner?” he asked after catching his breath.“There are no star systems nearby with civilized planets, not for another seven hundred to a thousand light-years. That is what makes Vicor so vital to travelers between the galaxies. If there were other inhabited planets, then we would not dominate the power-mod market as we do.”

“A thousand light-years, you’ve got to be kidding? There are no other worlds where I could drop you off?”

“None close and civilized.”

Adam fell back against the metal bulkhead of the cargo hold. “This is just great. What the hell am I supposed to do with you until then? I wasn’t planning on having company.”

“Company? But we are not in a business relationship, Adam Cain, at least not beyond the purchase of the modules.”

“In this context, company means to have a guest onboard.”

“Oh.”

“Still, I don’t know what to do with you?”

“If you had not accosted the Enforcers then you would not be in this predicament. Now you have little choice…and apparently neither do I. So I will have to accompany you until a suitable drop-off planet can be located. I can think of four, yet they are very far away. Where is your final destination?”

“It’s a world called Anicett—”

“Anicett! That is halfway through Tanic, clearly twelve thousand light-years from here. It is clear I cannot accompany you for all that time and distance. It would take nearly four months to reach the planet from here.”

“Not in this ship,” Adam stated, “but I don’t expect to have you around that long, either. We’ll shoot for one of the other four planets you mentioned.”

“Karlis is about seven hundred light-years from Vicor. By conventional means, that is a journey of eight days or so.”

“Then we can make it in about a day—once I’m able to get the full array installed and online.”

Nurick was stunned. “How can that be?”

“It’s the same technology that got me all the way here from the Milky Way—I mean the Silean Galaxy—in only seven months. I know the time conversion, so that’s an accurate estimate.”

“Then the complete journey between galaxies would take only nine months in total?”

“That’s right.”

Nurick sat down on the pile of gold ingots and hung his head.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked.

It took Nurick several moments to formulate his thoughts, and when he looked up at Adam again there was sadness painted on his rat-like face. “It means your kind—as well as many others from Silea—will soon be making the journey. They will come with new technologies and new ways of conducting commerce. Creatures from Silea will invade Tanic, both with their capital ways, as well as militarily—that is evitable. Vicor will soon be bypassed along the trade routes, and the Tanic Galaxy will itself become nothing but a colony of our much larger galactic neighbor.”

Adam watched the dejected alien for several moments before replying. “Unfortunately, Nurick, I can’t argue with any of that. I know the motivations and priorities of the people from my home galaxy better than you, and you’re right. But my mission here is not to initiate the takeover, but rather to delay it some.”

Nurick looked hard at Adam. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that there’s an even more immediate and deadly threat to life in Tanic than what you mentioned, and I’m here to stop it.”

“And what threat is this?”

Adam attempted a weak smile, not sure how Nurick would take it. “It’s a hundred more creatures just like me who are planning to take over your galaxy and by any means necessary.”

Nurick nodded. “I have seen what you are capable of doing.”

“Now imagine me a hundred times worse, and with the resources of Silea’s most-powerful person supporting them.”

“That is a truly horrifying thought; I realize now the context of your statement. And yet you say you are here to stop this threat? How can one being do such a thing, especially when you say this threat is from others of your species?”

Adam grinned, a sour expression with little conviction. “That, my friend, is still a mystery.”

********

The pair left the storage hold and headed to the bridge, where Adam slipped into the pilot seat and called up a general navigational readout of the local region. Kroekus had reluctantly provided him with what star charts he had prior to his incarceration, yet already Adam had noticed huge gaps in the accuracy of the data.

“Where is this planet Karlis?”

Nurick leaned in closer to the screen. “I do not see it, yet it should be in the Lismic Sector…here.” He pointed a long finger at the upper right hand corner of the screen.

“Okay, we’ll head over that way, but I really have to get the power-mods linked to the focusing rings before we’ll be able to shake the cops.”

Nurick’s mouth fell open as a blank stare filled his eyes. Adam quickly explained:“We’re being followed, and I need the ship at full power before I can get away from them.”

The explanation seemed simple enough, yet still Nurick’s eyes grew wide with panic.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked.

“You say you need the power-modules to be operational?”

“That’s right. I repeat: What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. But what if you are not able to evade the authorities, what will you do then?”

“I won’t surrender without a fight, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“That will only bring more force against you.”

“Then you better hope I can get the power up to max pretty soon. I could do it in space, but that would require shutting down and going dark. Unfortunately, your fellow Vicoreans are too close for me to do that; they would be on us before I could complete the install. But whatever happens, my current mods are fading fast. I could do the install in a few hours if we could find a rock to land on somewhere, but I can’t even do that until the pursuit backs off. We’ll never make it to Karlis otherwise.”

“If all you seek is a foothold, then there is a cluster of rogue asteroids on this side of the Lismic.”

“What’s the Lismic?”

“It is a dwarf star approximately three hundred light years from here. There are worlds surrounding it, yet all are either very hot or gas giants with severe gravity.”

“Asteroids will work, as long as the Enforcers aren’t on our tail.  I’m only running on four rings at this time to conserve power. If I know for sure I’ll have a place—and time—to install the new mods, I can bring the other four online and open up some distance between us and the Enforcers, at least temporarily. But that will only give us about forty-eight standard hours of running time. After that, I’m dead in the water. It’ll be tight, but I think I can make.”

“Your nautical references are quite amusing, Adam Cain, yet inappropriate since we are in space and not on the sea. However, with that aside, I will lead you to the asteroids.”

********

“Is this correct, has it been confirmed?” asked Honous Bis after he read the datapad entry.

“It is correct,” said Uisif Ban. “There is both video evidence and testimony from those at the spaceport. There is also the inventory of sixteen power-modules that was delivered to the ship, which is a multiple of eight.”

“Does anyone else know about this?”

“Quite possibly, since the ship drew considerable attention at the port, along with the subsequent altercation, of course.”

“The Kirans?”

“That I cannot confirm,” Uisif replied. “As you are aware, they have a reduced presence here on Vicor.”

“Let us endeavor to keep it that way.” Honous turned to his computer and started the process of establishing a link with the planet Huof. “I will let Polimor Security know of this,” he said to his subordinate. “I am confident they will send out units to intercept this extraordinary spacecraft. We shall, too, since it would be in our best interests if the local department secures the ship and presents it to Lord Dakken before Polimor Security has the opportunity.”

“I concur. And we must always be vigilant of the Kirans. This is the type of technology they relish.”

“As do we, Uisif. If we can learn the secrets of an eight-ring array, then the stranglehold the Kiran Clan has on gravity propulsion would be broken.” The link with Huof was established, and Honous Bis, Lead Supervisor of Polimor operations on Vicor, would soon send a burst data packet to the central governing planet of his Clan. The message would be received in four hours, by which time he would have his own marauders out looking for the Silean starship.

Even though Honous was excited for the possibilities of this new technology, he was also skeptical. Until he saw first-hand the operation of an eight-array gravity-drive, he would still consider it a far-fetched concept. And according to the report, the alien spacecraft had failed to bolt away from Vicor at super-light speeds, but rather very conventionally.

Still, if the technology was viable, then the Polimor Clan must secure it—and before it falls into the hands of Kirans.

Chapter 5

With all eight rings firing—even at reduced output—the Pegasus shot ahead of the three Vicorean starships still chasing them. They were a good two hundred light-years from Vicor by now and still the Enforcers hadn’t given up. As local law enforcement units, Adam was sure they’d eventually reach a point where they’d be called back home. After all, it’s not like Adam committed any major interstellar crime, and at this point, he couldn’t even be charged with the theft of the modules since their legal owner was aboard his ship and had filed any complaint.

If the Enforcers would drop their pursuit before he reached the asteroids, he could then take a couple of the ring-pairs offline and conserve his power. If not, then he’d be coasting up to the asteroids at his present energy bleed, and with no options left after that.

The journey to the asteroids would take forty hours; with fully-charged modules, he could have done it in less than a day. Yet his eight mods were sucking air as it was, so Adam was engaged in a very precarious balancing act between speed and energy consumption. Once there, he figured he’d need at least four hours of downtime to install the modules, so he had to open up a sufficient gap between him and Enforcers to give him that operating window.

Now, as he sat in the command chair, located directly behind the pilot seat on the bridge of the Pegasus, Adam was mentally monitoring the gravity-drive with his ATD, while also chiding himself for not planning further ahead before leaving the Milky Way.

He should have brought more modules, pure and simple. However at the time, he had no concept of the distance of one hundred sixty thousand light-years. He now tried to put the journey in perspective. That would be like traveling from the Earth to the Galactic Core and back again—five or six times! Adam had made the roundtrip from Earth to Juir—which sat on the other side of the Core—several times over the years, so cumulatively, he’d traveled this far and more. Yet to make it all in one leg took a mind-boggling effort.

Already he’d spent seven months at full throttle, and he still had another two to go before reaching the planet Anicett, where he hoped to catch up to Nigel McCarthy. This current hassle with the power-modules and the natives on Vicor was just a distraction from his main objective, which only served to frustrate him even more. Every day he didn’t confront the criminal mastermind was another day Nigel had available to consolidate his power. Adam was just one man—against one hundred human warriors—which made his mission daunting enough already. He didn’t need to give McCarthy any more advantage than he already had.

Nurick had taken up residency in the second stateroom aboard the Pegasus, which was fine with Adam. He remained behind closed doors for most of the trip, except on the rare occasions when he would come out for food. Adam could tell Nurick didn’t like him. That was fine; Adam found Nurick to be a little off-putting himself. After all, he was a six-foot tall rat, complete with a four-foot tail, pink skin and eyes and a short snout with a moist-looking black nose. How rats managed to rise to the top of the food chain on Vicor was anyone’s guess, but Adam had seen a lot stranger things in his day.

And at least Nurick didn’t smell as badly as other aliens; he still smelled—just not as bad.

The alien now entered the bridge, disturbing Adam’s silent musings.

“We must be nearing the cluster,” he said. “Are we still being pursued?”

Adam nodded. “Yep, and I picked up another two more ships angling in towards us coming from out of our port quarter. I can’t confirm that they’re after us, but we all seem to be heading for the same place.”

“Forgive me, but even though I spent twelve years as crew and pilot of Polimor channeler vessels, I do not understand the term port quarter.”

“Top left hand side of our course. Definitely not from Vicor, and we seem to be pretty far out for this to be more local cops—Enforcers—joining the parade.”

“It is likely Polimor Security units, if they approach from that direction.”

“What is Polimor Security?”

“They are the official Enforcers for the Polimor Clan. Their authority supersedes that of the Vicorean units.”

“Why would they be tracking us?”

“I do not know. However, as you infer, it may just be a coincidence that they are on a vector course.”

“Unfortunately, I’ve experienced very few coincidences in my life that didn’t come back to bite me in the ass.”

Nurick’s head trembled involuntarily at the convoluted translation of Adam’s last statement. The alien appeared tired and depressed, so he didn’t press the issue. Instead he stepped to the forward viewport and stared out at the few visible nearby stars, yet mainly at the massive white halo that dominated the space ahead.

Adam checked the readings. They were still a few minutes out from the outer edge of the asteroid belt and the time when he could start looking for a suitable landing spot. With time to kill, he engaged the tall rat in conversation.

“Have you ever been there?” he asked.

“You mean Tanic? Yes, several times when I crewed for the Polimors.”

“Who are they—the Polimors?”

“They are me, Adam Cain. I am a Polimor, as is most of Vicor. They are the dominant Clan in this region, although most of their major operations take place within Tanic. Vicor is such an isolated planet that very few of the Clans have a presence there. The Polimor do—to a point—and that is why, even though I have joined the Clan, I have very little connection with them.”

“So membership is voluntary?”

Nurick shrugged without turning from the viewport. “I cannot say that. If one wishes to engage in commerce, along with access to certain products and commodities, then no. Most beings in Tanic are members of a Clan and feel a tremendous loyalty to the affiliation. Vicoreans, as a whole, do not. We are more independent, identifying more with our homeworld rather than with a Clan. It is simply a consequence of our place in the universe. I am sure it would be different if Vicor was located closer to Tanic.”

Several small, solid contacts were now beginning to dot the nav screen. They seemed to be fewer—yet larger—than Adam was used to with the Solar System’s asteroid belt, which would serve his purpose perfectly. Any of these rocks would work. He’d land on one, don a spacesuit and set about installing the power-mods through the outer ring portals. The job was much easier from outside the ship than from inside.

He checked the latest positions and time-to-intercept for the five ships now closing on them—even though the intentions of two were still in question.

“There’s a pretty big one coming up in about five minutes,” Adam said to Nurick. “Will you help me install the mods?”

“Instead, I would request that you leave me on the asteroid, with ample spare atmosphere units for my suit and a comm link. I will be content to ride back to Vicor with the Enforcers.”

“You help me get the mods installed and you have yourself a deal—if you don’t mind risking the chance that they’ll shoot right past you and continue after me.”

Nurick turned from the viewport and stared at Adam. “Yes, there is a possibility that may happen, although, they may only be continuing the pursuit so vigorously because you have abducted me. Returning me to Vicor may be their priority mission.”

Adam smiled. “You really believe that? Are you that important on Vicor?”

Nurick went to say something, but then snapped his mouth shut at the last moment. He turned back to the viewport. “Perhaps I will accompany you to Karlis. That is the closest associated planet along this course.”

“Probably a wise decision; I’m sure being left alone on a twenty-mile long piece of space rock, light-years from any civilized planet, could get pretty lonely after a while.”

Adam hated to say it, but he was actually enjoying having someone around to talk to. It was helping cure his recently-acquired habit of talking to himself, something he found he was doing a lot more of these days. And that couldn’t be healthy.

********

The light from Tanic helped cast deep, pure black shadows on the surface of the asteroid Adam had selected as a landing spot for the Pegasus. He reduced speed and swung in low over the relatively smooth and crater-free surface, heading for the shadow cast by a three-thousand-foot tall cliff.

The five starships chasing them were still coming, and the two from the other direction had now changed course as he did, verifying that they were indeed part of the posse. With this second set of ships coming after them, his time for installation had been cut to only two hours. Normally, it took thirty minutes to install a power-module; at that pace, he’d only get four done, and all that would accomplish would be to make him equal in speed to his pursuers. That wouldn’t be enough. He needed at least another pair online to gain the advantage.

If after the install, he could bolt away at fantastic speed, the Vicoreans and Polimors would see the futility in their effort and head for home. As it was, Adam was pretty sure the reason the pursuit continued was because hunter and hunted were so close to one another. They couldn’t back off now.

Nurick had agreed to help with the install, a fact that—depending on his expertise—gave Adam at least the outside chance of getting six or more units installed within the deadline. Even a three-pair would be better than what he had now—which at the moment was a big fat zero.

A few minutes before, Adam had gone aft and uncrated eight of the new modules, placing them on a small electric tractor which he could drive out of the bay and around to the various ring portals. He also loaded a ladder and tool box on the tractor, as well.

The Pegasus slipped into the pure blackness of the cliff’s shadow and set down using chem-drive. His pursuers would have seen him enter the asteroid cluster and go dark, so they would be scanning all the rocks within the vicinity where his signature winked out. Hiding in the shadows would give him just a little more chance of remaining undetected.

********

With spacesuits donned, Adam opened the rear cargo bay door and the pair drove the small tractor out onto the powdery grey surface of the twenty-mile long asteroid. Red light had replaced the brilliant white on their helmets to make spotting them harder should the pursuing starships get that close.

While keeping in constant contact with the ship’s sensors through his ATD, Adam and Nurick set to work removing the old mods and replacing them with the new ones. The incredibly light gravity of the asteroid made the work both easier—and harder. It was easier to maneuver the heavy and bulky mods into place, yet they also had the tendency to drift off a dozen yards or so if left unattended, an effect of the rock’s light gravity and slow revolution.

An hour into the job, with three new mods installed and the fourth just finishing up, a proximity alert sounded within Adam’s mind. He accessed the full computer link and paused while he scanned the data. Nurick held a pneumatic wrench out for Adam, who was now frozen in a trance-like state.

“Adam, what is wrong with you?”

“Nothing, just checking on the proximity alert I just received.”

“I do not understand. You are merely staring into space.”

“I’m linked with the ship’s computer—”

“So you are a cybernetic organism!”

Adam diverted some of his attention from the scan back and to Nurick. “Hell no, I just have a way to link with the ship. It’s just technology, nothing special.”

“An ability such as that is something special. Can I acquire such technology as well?”

“Not in this galaxy. And all the counterfeit microprocessors you have here are beyond my reach. Now let me concentrate. It seems the Polimors have picked up the pace and are just at the outskirts of the asteroid field.”

“Then we must be leaving!”

“Not yet,” Adam said, dimming the link and turning back to the current install. “They’re slowing down and beginning to scan a number of the larger rocks. That might give us enough time to complete all eight.”

“We are not even halfway complete.”

Adam tightened a bolt on the energy module he was lying on and handed the wrench back to Nurick. “We are now. That’s number four. Now let’s get serious about this and knock out the other four in record time.”

“I am serious about this endeavor, and I would not recommend knocking on the modules. They are sensitive, as well as prone to calibration errors if handled roughly.”

“Yes sir. Now scoot back out, you’re blocking my way.”

The next two modules went in without a hitch, making six complete. Adam breathed a sigh of relief. At least now they’d have a fighting chance of evading the Enforcers. Yet just as he attached the ladder to the lip of the next focusing ring portal, the alarm in his head went off again, this time with a vengeance. Nurick was climbing the ladder as well, and when Adam fell into another semi-trance, the alien banged his helmeted head into Adam’s butt, causing the Human to surge forward in the light gravity and halfway into the portal.

“Dammit, Nurick, slow down!” And then he learned why the alarm was going ballistic.

One of the Polimor ships was now only ten thousand miles out and closing rapidly. Adam checked the backlogs and found that the Enforcers hadn’t spent a lot of time with the asteroids at the edge of the field, but rather continued to the point where Adam’s signal had gone dark. The ships were here already…and closing fast.

Contrary to popular belief, asteroid fields are not concentrated clumps of giant rocks all in close proximity and bouncing off one another with regularity. Instead, over time, any close-in rocks had been absorbed by others, until an asteroid field was mostly empty space with tens of thousands of miles between objects. So when the Polimors reached the point where they’d lost contact with the Pegasus, there were only handful of targets to scan. With five ships now involved in the search, they had divided their efforts, with each ship taking an asteroid. Now one of the enemy starships was closing on Adam’s sanctuary rock and slowing, while sending out massive waves of electromagnetic scans.

Without bothering with the ladder, Adam pushed his way backwards out of the portal and drifted slowly to the surface of the asteroid. “Grab the ladder,” he ordered, “and get the tractor back in the ship. We have no time!”

Nurick obeyed, as Adam bounded past him and into the Pegasus through the open bay door. He entered the small airlock located off to the left of the main pressure door to the interior and a minute later was in the central corridor and on his way to the bridge, his spacesuit now a disheveled mess strewn along the deck.

As he entered the bridge, he sensed the cargo bay door closing and assumed Nurick was aboard. He activated the tac screen. It was one thing to face one of these alien spaceships in open space. It was another to be sitting on the surface with a warship controlling the high ground.

Even though the ship was still a thousand miles out, waves of scanning energy had already impacted the Pegasus, if only from a distance. The returning signal would be faint, but something that would definitely be singled out for investigation.

Adam main concern now was that when he charged up the generators the Pegasus would light up like a flare on a moonless night. They were already well within flash cannon range, and even activating the shields would mark their location.

Nurick entered the bridge and took one quick look at the tac screen before panicking. “They are too close!” he screamed. “They will blast us while we are still on the surface.”

“Not if I can help it. Buckle in, I have an idea.”

Running along the entire length of the Pegasus were numerous air vents which were used to purge the interior of oxygen in the event of a fire. Through four of these vents on the underside of the ship, Adam released a series of quick air bursts, and in the near-non-existent gravity of the asteroid, the Pegasus lifted smoothly off the surface.

“That was impressive,” said Nurick. “Now what?”

Adam ignored him. Instead, he now sent bursts from the vents in the cargo bay and the Pegasus began to slowly move forward and out from the shadow of the steep cliff. He continued along this course for two minutes, increasing the intensity of the venting as they went until the Pegasus was moving along at a pretty good clip.

The horizon of the asteroid was only a few miles away at any given moment, so Adam had to keep venting from the top of the Pegasus, as well as the rear, to keep her from flying off into space. He wasn’t ready for that to happen, not just yet.

Soon they had wrapped around the huge rock and were now on the opposite side from the approaching Polimor vessel. And that was when Adam energized the generators.

“This will only give us a jump,” Adam said to Nurick. “Within a split second of initiating a well, they’ll see us.”

“There are only six mods installed. Will that be enough?”

“It should be. Six is good, eight is better, but we should still be faster than any of them. Get ready—here we go.”

With the press of a button, a series of microscopic singularities began to form in front of the Pegasus and the ship surged forward, immune from the laws of Einstein and Newton by her unique location just inside the event horizon of the black hole, and always a finite distance from the singularities created by the focusing rings.

Yet almost immediately, a barrage of flash bolts struck from the rear—as well as from above.

There was now a second Polimor ship closing from above, having either been alerted by the first vessel of a possible contact, or simply joining up after a fruitless search of their own rock. Either way, there were now two ships shooting at them.

“Shields are holding; however….” Nurick let his report trail off.

“However what?”

“Power is dropping to the engines.”

Adam had noticed the same thing just as Nurick spoke. With six power-mods—three ring pairs—there should have been plenty of power for both the engines and the shields. But the readings were correct. Each time they were hit with a flash bolt, the computer had to reroute energy to the diffusion screens…and the Pegasus lost well-intensity.

“It must be your foreign power-mods,” said Adam. “You’re sure they’re hybrids?”

“I know my business, Adam. Don’t blame the mods, but rather the foreign nature of your technology.”

“It’s not foreign to me, but either way, we’re bleeding energy like a sieve, and we’ve only just started our getaway.”

“It would be better if they would stop shooting at us?”

Adam stopped what he was doing and glared at Nurick with an ‘I can’t believe you just said that’ kind of look. “Maybe if you ask them nicely they just might do that.”

“Highly unlikely,” Nurick said. “Yet if you wish me to try, I will.”

“No, don’t bother. Instead, shut down the forward and side screens, keeping only the rear active. I’m going to try to angle away, keeping only our six exposed while I redline this muther.”

Adam didn’t wait for Nurick to decipher what he’d just said. Instead he worked the shields himself, and then sent every ounce of energy he could spare to the engines. The Pegasus began to open a gap between them and the hunters, even though a rogue energy bolt would occasionally strike the rear diffusion screen. Yet as the distance increased, the intensity of the bolts diminished rapidly, and soon they were out of range and in the clear.

With the rear screen no longer necessary Adam shut it down, freeing up even more power for the engines.

“That bought us some time, but not as much as I wanted,” he said. “We need to get the other pair online—and also figure out how to reconfigure your stupid energy modules. We should have plenty of power with six mods working.”

“I am at a loss as to the reason for the power drop off. It could be a compatibility issue, or one of improper installation.”

Adam turned an accusatory eye to Nurick. “They were installed correctly, dickhead; you were there with me.” The term dickhead threw Nurick for a loop, but Adam rushed right past it. “These things are simple, both to install and to operate. Like you said, it must be a compatibility issue. If that’s the case, then I can’t promise we’ll have the advantage I was hoping for once all eight rings are operating.”

“You could always surrender,” said Nurick, his face displaying sincere conviction.  “I will even do my best to serve as a witness in your defense. It seems that most of what has transpired has been providence or simply bad luck.”

“Amen to that, buddy, but I’m not ready to give up—not yet. I just hope we have the power to make it to Karlis. I’m not sure how long these mods will last under this workload.”

Chapter 6

The planet Karlis was four days out from the asteroid field, and during that time they’d managed to stay ahead of the other ships, but not by much. Even then, it looked as though only two of the starships were still in the hunt. These were probably the two that joined the posse from outside Vicor—the so-called Polimor Security Force. As predicted, the Enforcer ships had reached the limits of their jurisdiction and been called home, leaving the pursuit to the more ubiquitous Clan Security ships. If that were the case, then why were they chasing them in the first place? The crimes that took place on Vicor were minor and localized, and certainly wouldn’t warrant calling in the Galactic FBI.

The questions were numerous and perplexing, yet Adam didn’t really care about the why? All he cared about was the how. Like how was he going to get through this and back on mission? All that had taken place since he first set down on Vicor had been nothing but a time-consuming distraction. The sooner he could get the last of the mods installed—and get Nurick off his ship—the sooner he could get back to his mission. And until it was completed, Adam knew he couldn’t go home again. And home was sounding pretty good right about now.

********

Adam orbited the planet Karlis a couple of times until they found a suitable place to land, which turned out to be a large open field about ten miles south of a modest-size city. According to Nurick, the Karliseans had modest technology and only limited space travel, brought to them by the Vicoreans a few hundred years before. The Vicoreans and Karliseans had an affiliation going back that long and Nurick said it would okay for him to left on the planet.

But Adam wasn’t going to do that, not now. He had come to suspect that the power-mods Nurick had sold him were inferior in some way, either with energy consumption or compatibility. If the alien was such a so-called expert then he should have known the mods wouldn’t work in Adam’s ship, and until he had that issue worked out he wasn’t going to let the Vicorean out of his sight.

Adam knew they would only have a few hours to get the last two mods hooked up, and then to replace as many of the other units as they could, seeing that they were already half-drained after only four days of operation.

Once on the surface Karlis, Adam drove the small tractor out of the cargo hold and positioned it near one of the two rings ports with depleted power-modules. Nurick was with him, standing at the bottom of the ladder and ready to hand Adam tools as needed.

“Mods shouldn’t bleed that much power in only four days, and you know it,” he said to Nurick just before he ducked into the port. “I’m beginning to think this isn’t just a compatibility issue, otherwise they’d still be holding a charge. This is something else.”

“I assure you, the units are top-rated. Your system must be so powerful that it absorbs energy greater than normal.”

“No shit, Sherlock. That’s why I need hybrids. You did sell me hybrids, didn’t you?”

“Of course; you can tell by the designation. And my name is Nurick, not Sherlock.”

Adam shook his head in disgust, and with a final sigh, entered the focusing ring port head first.

********

Nurick waited until the Human was fully ensconced within the focusing ring access portal before running off toward the nearest grove of trees. It felt good to be running again; it was a superior trait of the Vicoreans which made them the swiftest land animal on their planet.

The breeze pushed back his long ears, sending them fluttering against the sides of his head as he ran through the cool morning air. He rushed through the first grove of trees and up a slight hill before heading down a longer slope to where more trees were found. The gravity of this world was slightly less than Vicor, which only added to his quickness. His dodged the trees at the base of hill, using his long tail to balance his moves.

He would continue along this path, up the next hill and on for another five minutes before stopping. That should put him far enough away from the Human beast. He smiled, letting his tongue flop out of his mouth as he did so. The hapless alien would have no way of finding him, and then he would make his way to the small community they had seen upon their descent and send a message to the approaching security units. They would rescue him, while also dealing with the dangerous alien.

Nurick thought it would be wise if they simply blasted the alien starship to ashes. Even though the ship contained revolutionary propulsion technology, it would be better for the Vicorean way of life if it remained a mystery—at least until others arrived from Silea, bringing with them the evitable end to Vicor’s monopoly on energy—

Nurick skidded to a stop, his booted feet digging deeply into the moist soil just beyond the crest of the far hill. He blinked several times, hoping that what he saw was simply a hallucination brought about from the chemicals now coursing through his brain as a result of his euphoric sprint for freedom. Yet no such luck; the image was real.

The Human Adam Cain had also just emerged from the tree line at the top of the hill, the same as he. The pink alien appeared to hesitate for a moment, as he placed his hands on his knees and bent over, breathing heavily. But then he began to scan the crest of the ridge—until his gaze fell upon Nurick. The Vicorean couldn’t decide if the Human’s expression was one of anger or amusement, or a combination of both.

Nurick didn’t wait around to find out. He turned away from the alien and began to sprint faster than he had ever in his life down the side of the hill. There was a narrow river at the base, and with the leaping abilities of the Vicoreans, Nurick was hoping to scale the river and leave the Human behind. Still, he had no idea how the Human had managed to follow—

Just then something yanked at the collar of his shirt, pulling him backwards and off his feet. He fell, tumbling down the steep slope countless times. He felt rocks impact his thin skin and the taste of the soil of this foreign planet filled his mouth. Eventually he came to a rest on the muddy bank of the shallow river, facedown and with sharp points from river rock assaulting his body. He rolled over and tested his limbs for any permanent damage. He appeared to be okay, only bruised and bleeding from numerous small cuts.

And then a shadow moved over him. He squinted into the alien sun as the figure moved to block the blinding light from his eyes.

“That was dumb,” a voice said. He knew immediately that it was the voice of the Human, Adam Cain.

Nurick hurried to his feet, and found the shorter creature standing very near, still breathing heavily. “How did you catch me?” Nurick blurted, curiosity supplanting any fear he should have felt at the moment.

“By being faster than you, that would be my guess. But I must say, I did enjoy the jog; it’s been a while.”

Nurick looked past the alien and up the hill he had just rolled down. “It should have been impossible for you to follow? Nothing can run that fast.”

Adam Cain shook his head. “That is just one more thing you’re going to have to accept, Nurick; you’re not the fastest creature around—not even close.”

So both stronger—and faster; what more can this odd creature do that is beyond the realm of possibility? Nurick wasn’t about to test him again.

********

“Now if you’re done playing around, let’s get back to the ship. I need some real answers about the mods you sold me. They’re obviously flawed somehow. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you sold me some defective or deficient modules.”

“So you know better? That is good, and confirmation of what I have been saying.”

“No, it means I don’t know better.”

“And yet you just said—”

“Never mind!” Adam took a deep breath as the veins in his neck pulsed.“I think you sold me some crappy modules—now do you understand?”

“Crappy appears to have a vulgar and unsanitary connotation. I assure you I did not sell you crappy modules.” Nurick wrinkled his moist, black nose. “Who would do such a thing?”

Adam grabbed the Vicorean by the collar of his shirt and pulled him in closer. “I think you sold me defective modules. Is that plain enough for you, Nurick? What do you say about that?”

Fear had now replaced the confusion in the eyes of the alien. “You left me no choice but to provide downgrades, so it is really your fault this has happened!” Nurick confessed.

“How did you come to that conclusion?” Adam tossed the creature backwards into the mud of the river bank.

“By negotiating such a low price for the modules, I could only provide mods with lower specifications than you required,” Nurick said. “I told you the price was too low! The mods you have will work, just not for as long as the hybrids.”

Adam found the tranquility of the river and the familiarity of the oak-like trees nearby to be comforting, yet distracting. From what he’d seen, this world was very Earth-like, except for the gravity. He shook off the bout of nostalgia and regret that threatened to overwhelm him and turned his attention back to Nurick.

“You’re lucky we didn’t have to engage in any fancy evasive maneuvers on the way here. That would have drained even more power, and we would have never made it to Karlis. So what are you going to do to make this right?”

“I do not understand?” Nurick said. “I am under no obligation to correct this circumstance, seeing that technically you have not consummated the original transaction with payment.”

“Don’t play games with me, Nurick; you’re in enough trouble already. Don’t try my patience.”

“All I can offer is an alternative.”

“What alternative?”

“Hybrid modules are not manufactured on Vicor, at least not the ones you requested.”

“Where then?”

“On a planet called Disenlore. You could go there and purchase the mods you require directly from the manufacturer….”

Adam noticed Nurick hesitate. “Go on. What’s the problem?”

“They only sell through channelers—like me—and yet with your unique negotiating skills, I am sure they will accommodate you.”

“Bullshit—you’re coming with me.”

Adam watched the expression on the face of the Vicorean switch from confusion at the term bullshit—they all did the same—to one of abject resignation. “I assumed you would say that,” Nurick said. “So there will be no convincing you to leave me here?”

“Not a chance. First of all, I can’t risk the chance that the manufacturer won’t sell me the modules. And number two, I can’t trust you not to tell others where I’m headed. Oh, and a third reason: This planet Disenlore may not even exist, since you’re such a lying asshole. So until I have confirmation of all the above, you’re staying with me.”

Adam grabbed the arm of the Vicorean, pulling up off the ground and shoving him in the direction of the Pegasus. “Now get moving, and if you don’t mind, I would prefer to walk back to the ship; I’m not as young as I once was…that’s for sure.”

It took the pair twenty minutes to walk back to the ship, and even before they arrived, Adam was feeling sick to his stomach.

Though he didn’t see the ships descending from the sky, he still heard and felt the rumbles coming from the direction of the Pegasus. He was sure by now the LZ would be swarming with aliens—and he had run off after Nurick without taking a weapon.

As they approached the crest of the small hill overlooking the landing zone, Adam forced Nurick to the ground and they both crawled up and peered over the top. Sure enough, two dark-hulled, elongated starships sat off to the left, in a field about a hundred yards from the Pegasus. The short, dry grass surrounding the ships was still burning from the chemical landings, yet the small wildfire was beginning to burn itself out before reaching the nearest grove of oak trees.

There were about a dozen Vicoreans surrounding the Pegasus, whose main side hatch was open.

 “They’re not wearing police—Enforcer—uniforms.”

Nurick squinted, appearing to have trouble making out details on his fellow Vicoreans below them. They may be fast, but they have crappy eyesight, Adam thought.

“That is because they are clansmons.”

“What are clansmons?”

Nurick looked over at him and frowned. “Members of a clan,” he answered, while diplomatically leaving off the punctuating ‘stupid’ after the word clan.

“Okay, I got that,” said a testy Adam Cain, “but what clan? These Polimors you mentioned?”

Nurick squinted back down the hill, but this time toward the two dark spaceships. “Yes, which I see now would make sense.”

“Explain.”

“Polimors are in direct competition with the Kiran Clan as purveyors of advance technology, particularly from the Silean Galaxy. Apparently news of your ship has filtered to them.”

“But these guys are Vicoreans.”

“These are, yet the Polimors are made up of dozens of races.” Nurick narrowed his beady eyes at Adam. “You have much to learn of Tanic. The Clans are not of planetary origin, yet are a form of affiliation between many species. They exist for the common benefit of the Clan, based upon the Clan’s area of expertise and dominance. The largest and most powerful specialize in manufacturing, and mainly of vital technology and equipment necessary to sustain Tanic’s ability to interact across light-years, both through propulsion devices and communications. There are none larger than the Kiran Clan, yet the Polimors hope to one day remedy that.”

“That’s all very interesting, Nurick, but what are they going to do with my ship?”

“I imagine they will take it to learn of its secrets. The first Clan to do so will reap the profits, and the Polimors have been competing—fruitlessly—with Alic Kiran and his ancestors for a very long time. I am sure they see your ship as a chance to gain the advantage.”

Alic Kiran was the clan leader Nigel McCarthy was to meet—and replace, if possible. If he managed to do that—to the point where he controlled the most-vital and in-demand products in the galaxy—then the difficulty of Adam’s mission would increase exponentially.

And yet Adam’s most pressing issue was to keep the aliens from taking the Pegasus. Without his ship, he was royally screwed.

Adam reached out with his Artificial Telepathy Device and interfaced with the ship’s computer system. The signal that came back was weak yet readable, since the distance to the Pegasus was right at the ATD’s half-mile limit.

He accessed the various monitoring cameras located throughout the ship, concentrating on the two on the bridge. There were three Vicoreans in the room, with one sitting in his pilot’s seat and manipulating the main computer. That was something Adam couldn’t abide, so he sent a command to shut down and lock the ship’s computer system, and to remain so until Adam sent a special unlock code. He used the code 1225, for Christmas Day—he always like Christmastime.

With the cameras still functioning, he watched as the aliens panicked when the computer suddenly went dark. The leader of the group came onto the bridge and began yelling while holding what Adam could see was a bar of his precious gold. The alien set the gold on the console and proceeded to verbally tear into the Vicorean seated at the pilot’s station.

“A safety feature may have been triggered when I went to engage the generators,” he said in his defense.“Most functions are now locked, except for basic systems such as lights and life support, as evidenced by the atmosphere still circulating from the vents.”

The commander turned from the pilot and stared out the forward viewport. “Return to the K-92 and request a hauler. This ship is small enough to be hoisted into space. After that we will tow it to Ralic-Sim. I am not about to leave it here before we learn of its secrets.”

The other alien nodded curtly and then exited the ship.

Adam leaned over closer to Nurick. “Where is Ralic-Sim?”

The question caught the Vicorean off guard. “Where did you hear that name?”

“Never mind. Have you heard of it?”

“Of course. It is the central processing center for the Polimors.”

“Where is it?”

“Gof Sector, this side of the Krinus Nebula.”

“I have no idea where any of those places are.”

“About six hundred light-years from here.”

“Shit!” Adam grunted.

“How inappropriate. If you must, then please keep it private.”

From the intensity he had been surveying the field below Adam was at a loss as to what Nurick meant; however, when it finally dawned on him, he knew he had had enough.

“It’s an expression, not a literal translation. Now…will you please shut up and stop commenting on every little thing I say.”

Nurick scrunched up his face. “Forgive me then for simply trying to comprehend your strange manner of speaking. Language on Vicor is much more precise and structure—”

Adam reached over and clamped a strong hand around Nurick’s snout, cutting him off in mid-word. The Vicorean tried to pull away, but Adam wouldn’t let go. “I told you to be quiet.”

Nurick mumbled something.

“What?”

He repeated the mumble. Adam released him.

“I said, so to be quiet is what is meant by the term shut up. Why did you not just say—”

Adam glared at the alien with such fiery intensity that this time Nurick did shut up. Even if he hadn’t, their attention was soon diverted to the sound of another starship vectoring in for a chemical landing near the other two dark ships. This one, however, had a shiner hull and was about a third smaller than the other two. This couldn’t possibly be the hauler the others had called in. It was much too small to lift the Pegasus.

Adam pursed his lips in frustration. At one point, he’d almost been willing to take on the twenty or so aliens milling around his ship, just to keep them from taking the Pegasus. Now there would be even more to contend with.

It was only a matter of minutes before the hatch on the new starship cracked open and two additional Vicoreans stepped out of the shiny ship. They wore blue uniforms with white sashes.

“It is the Enforcers!” Nurick said, much too loudly for Adam’s comfort.

“Quiet or they’ll hear you.” Just as he spoke the words, Adam saw a look of deep concentration fill Nurick’s eyes.

Oh no, he can’t be thinking—

Nurick suddenly jumped up, standing at his full height on top of the ridge, waving his arms and yelling.

Adam lashed out with his left arm, sweeping Nurick’s legs out from under him. Even on the ground, the alien continued to yell, so Adam grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him backwards, sending him rolling down the gentle slope of the hill.

Adam was on him before he stopped tumbling. “I warned you, Nurick,” he said as he sat down heavily on the alien’s chest.

“Please let me go. Without a ship, the project you have set for yourself cannot possibly be accomplished. It is hopeless. I am sure even you cannot best thirty or so Vicoreans, especially seeing that you have no weapon upon you. You should surrender now, before further resistance costs you your life. I will put in a good explanation of events on your behalf. Just do not let this escalate further.”

“No one’s surrendering, and I’m not letting you go.”

“I will only cause problems at every turn, unless you let me go.”

Adam placed a hand on Nurick’s throat. “Remember the grip I had on your hand? Well this will be ten times worse.”

Nurick’s eyes grew wide as Adam tightened his grip. “Please do not,” the alien pleaded.“All I was trying to do is use logic to convince you. I see now that logic does not apply in this situation.”

“Now you’re learning.” Adam dragged the Vicorean back up the hill. The two Enforcers were no longer in sight, so Adam once again linked with the cameras aboard the Pegasus and found them inside, along with the leader of the Security Force.

“But this is within our jurisdiction,” the lead Enforcer was saying.

“Agreed; so take the pilot and your traitor and return them to Vicor. They are somewhere near. Yet the ship is not part of the crime. It comes with us.”

“And the gold?”

Adam saw the Polimor clansmon grin. “It is cargo, and again, not part of the crime. However,” he reached over and took a small stack of the gold ingots that were on the command console and handed them to the Enforcer, “as a former Enforcer myself, and as a sign of goodwill and cooperation among our units, you can have these for your troubles.”

The two Enforcers looked at each other. “That is quite generous of you; however, this is such a small percentage of the total onboard.”

“You are not happy with my generosity?” asked the lead Polimor. “Perhaps I should not have offered you any—”

“No—this is quite acceptable, Captain Crous. I was merely stating a fact.”

The clanmon nodded. “I see. Then I would suggest that this bonus not show on any after-action report, since it is such a small percentage of the total that is aboard this ship. Call it an error in accounting. Such a small amount is easily within the margin of error.”

The two Enforcers set about distributing the ingots into various pockets in their uniforms. “On another matter, there are rumors that this ship employs eight focusing rings operating in unison. Since we did not observe any special abilities of the ship during our pursuit, are the rumors true?”

“It is too early to tell. A hauler will be here shortly to lift the vessel off the planet. Once it is delivered to Ralic-Sim, we will know. In any event, that is no longer a concern of the Enforcers.”

“It is our concern if it means interaction with Silea will become more frequent and pervasive.”

“We shall see. Until then, those issues are for others to debate. All I want to do is get the ship to Ralic-Sim. Now leave; I must secure the craft for the lift. Pursue your fugitives. They are without transport, and are probably at this very moment hiding among the trees, observing us. They should be easy to locate, especially with the intimate knowledge we Vicorean have of Karlis. But don’t count on any assistance from the natives; in fact they may resist in your efforts, at least in regards to your apprehension of the foreigner. My clansmon are on alert for a possible infiltration of the perimeter by the ship’s owner—who I understand you Enforcers had trouble containing on Vicor. The sooner you apprehend him, the better. Now do your job and I will do mine.”

Adam rolled over on his back and stared up into the bright Karlisean sky. The Vicorean—Captain Crous—was right. They were nearby and without transport, other than their legs. And even with the advantages Adam had over the aliens in respect to strength and quickness, he couldn’t very well go up against twenty armed clansmon who were expecting him.

“When you ran off, you were headed for the town we saw from orbit, is that right?” he asked Nurick.

“Yes. I was hoping to contact the Enforcers for rescue.”

“We have to get over there, pronto. Your friends are coming for us, so we’ve gotta go.”

“Under threat of bodily harm, I will accompany you. Yet what do you hope to find in Pronto?”

“In Pronto—oh. I hope to find a ship of some kind. You’re right—without mine I have nothing. I have to get her back.”

“Yet we have no money for hire…oh, you intend to steal a vessel.”

“Now you’re catching on, Nurick. There’s hope for you after all. Now, let’s see how fast you really are. I’ll race you to…to Pronto.”

Chapter 7

As Adam jogged along behind Nurick, he knew that when the Enforcers didn’t find them in the woods surrounding the Pegasus, their next logical place to look would be the town. But that was a risk he had to take. He had no idea how long it would take to get a hauler on station, and once the ship was in orbit, it would be a simple matter of either packing it in a large cargo hold or attaching grapples and towing the ship the Ralic-Sim.

Either way, Adam’s entire mission—hell his very existence in this galaxy—depended on him getting the Pegasus back. If not, then he would have to spend the rest of his life in this backwards galaxy, never to return home again. And that would suck.

More and more, Adam Cain was regretting his decision to come here in the first place. He reasoned that the lure of a galaxy, far, far away had been too much for him to resist. Now, as he ran over the hills and through the woods on a world impossibly far from his own, Adam was thinking this would be the last time he fell for the romance of some science fiction fantasy. This was real life after all, and he couldn’t afford the luxury of letting his dreams get the best of him.

********

Although late to the game of interstellar travel, the planet Karlis was located right in the middle of the transit lanes from Vicor to the main part of the Cloud, and so they were technologically advanced enough to have starships sitting around any decent size city, at least that’s what Nurick told him.

On their approach to the landing zone in the Pegasus, Adam and Nurick had noticed the settlement to the north, yet they hadn’t had the opportunity or inclination to determine its overall size. For all Adam knew, it could be a small, rural farming community without a single spaceship for miles around. And even if they did find a ship it had to be of a specific classification. A journey of six hundred light-years was beyond the ability of the common in-system flitter. He would have to find a merchantman—a ship capable of making long journeys—or its equivalent, if he was to recover the Pegasus.

And if he did manage to reclaim his ship, he’d be in the same boat he’d been leaving Vicor—the energy modules still weren’t fully installed. And now he’s learned the ones Nurick sold him were crap. He had to find true hybrids and get them installed before he’d have any chance of leaving this miserable chapter of his life behind.

********

It took about forty minutes to reach the edge of the town, and by then Adam was panting like a racehorse, while Nurick was showing no signs of fatigue. Adam may be faster, but the Vicoreans had more endurance.

They hadn’t run across any of the natives on the way here, so Adam had no idea what he’d be up against if and when the time came for him to acquire a ship, be it here or some other city on the planet.

As they drew closer to the town, they found that it wasn’t very large, a fact that worried Adam to no end. It was most comprised of familiar looking box housing units with steep roofs, and separated from the others by at least half an acre, and there was only one main road from this direction running into the commercial district. Fortunately, as they crested a small hill along the road, a modest-sized city rose up in the distance, with some the buildings reaching as high as ten stories.

As Adam and Nurick walked along the main road into town, his mood brightened. There might be a spaceport nearby after all. And besides that, he had finally seen what the native Karliseans looked like.

They looked a lot like Humans.

There were differences, of course; there always were. These creatures were a little shorter than your average Human—which was unusual on a planet with a lighter gravity that Earth’s. They also had a distinct yellow hue to their skin, and not just some imaginary and derogatory label placed on some Humans by other Humans. Also their ears were quite large and fan-like. As the pair met up with more and more of the natives, Adam noticed the ears would fold back against their near-hairless skulls when not engaged with another, yet would flick and flutter as they talked or greeted people on the street.

Even though the planet was part of a galactic network consisting of thousands of different species, Adam and Nurick still garnered their share of odd looks from the natives, causing Adam’s rollercoaster ride of emotions to drop once again. If there was a spaceport nearby, then surely the natives wouldn’t consider the sight of two aliens on their streets as all that unusual. These creatures did.

That was when Adam noticed an odd look on Nurick’s face. His eyes were wide and there was a noticeable amount of saliva drooling from his mouth.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“I am fine, just very hungry.”

That’s when Adam realized that he, too, was famished. But they didn’t have time to linger. On a more cosmopolitan world, they would be sure to find restaurants and other eateries with the proper testing equipment and processing units to accommodate off-worlders. But here, he wasn’t so sure.

“Do you have any money—credits—on you?”

“Some. Why do you ask? I surely do not have enough to hire a starship, if you have changed your mind about stealing one.”

“No, I’m thinking about food, about finding someplace where we can grab something quick. We don’t have time for a full sit-down meal.”

Nurick looked at him with a frown. “Why should we pay for a meal, when there is such a succulent feast walking along this street with us?”

Adam stopped in his tracks. “Wait…you’re talking about eating the Karliseans?”

“Yes, and they are called Josls. I imagine that is the reason they are looking odd at me. There is a history of my people with theirs—perhaps I should have told you.”

“Ya think? And this history has something to do with your people eating these people?”

“Of course; everything must feed on something else within the line of life.”

“But these are intelligent beings…and your people used to feed on them.”

“Don’t get indignant, Adam Cain. We don’t do it any longer. But at the onset of space travel, the Vicoreans happened upon Karlis and found the meat of the natives to be of particular appeal to us. It was never a staple, but rather a delicacy for the most-prosperous of Vicor. This was also before the Josls had electricity or modern technology of any kind. They were nomadic tribes, and we did our best to harvest them in judicious ways to insure their continued survival. I would say we did an admirable job, considering how far they’ve come since then.”

“And these natives are aware that you’re a Vicorean—and that your ancestors used to feed on their ancestors?”

“If this was your planet, would that be something you would forget?”

“That’s my point!” Adam said. He was looking around frantically for another path to take off the main drag. There were more Karliseans—or Josls, as Nurick called them—on the street now, and even the occupants in the native cars were beginning to slow and stare as they cruised by.

“You never stopped to think that these creatures might be a little upset with your kind, and would want a little payback?” Adam took Nurick by the arm and pulled him off the street and into an alley.

“I don’t see why. We don’t feed on them any longer, and there was nothing malicious about the practice. It was simply filling a biological need.”

“Well, by the looks on the faces of the Josls, they may be thinking about filling a need of their own—the need for revenge.”

“That I doubt,” Nurick said. “From my understanding, the Josls have an instinctive fear of Vicoreans. They would not dare strike against me.”

“I have an instinctive fear of spiders, and that’s why I have no qualms about stomping my foot on any I see. Now follow me; there’s another road at the end of the alley.”

Even as they rushed away from the main road, Adam saw a small crowd of Josls forming at the entrance to the alley. They were murmuring among themselves and pointing. Several had communication devices pressed against their fan-like ears.

We’re screwed, Adam thought as they turned the corner at the end of the alley and lost sight of the crowd. There were other natives on this street, too, yet so far none had noticed them.

Adam placed Nurick in a recessed doorway of the building next to them. “Do the Josls have translation bugs?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Good—stay here,” Adam ordered.

Adam crossed the street and neared a couple of elderly-looking natives. He grinned at them warmly.

“Greetings,” he said. “May I ask you a question?”

The couple smiled back at him, and full-tooth smiles at that. Adam mirrored their expression.

“Of course, what do you require, guest?”

Adam sighed. He could tell right away that he liked the Josls. And the Vicoreans used to eat them. Unbelievable.

“I am new here, and was wondering if there is a spaceport nearby?”

He saw the two natives frown.“But you are a guest. Surely you must have come here by way of the spaceport.”

“I came over land, on a hiking trek.”

“That explains it,” the older male exclaimed. The cute, older couple exchanged knowing nods with one another. The female then turned to Adam.

“Yes, there is one. It is on this side of Anofor, down this street for about half an hour, and then on your left. It is a spaceport, so it will be easy to see.”

“Thank you both very much. You have been most kind.” Adam reached out his hand to place it on the shoulder of the female. She drew away rapidly.

“Oh, please do not touch me!” she cried out. “You may carry alien germs and diseases.”

Adam recoiled. “I’m so sorry. But I don’t carry anything. I’m quite safe.”

“That is what all guests say, yet they are seldom correct.”

The countenance of the Josl couple returned to that of warmth and friendship. “Now, please move along. Your smell is quite offensive to us.”

And then they turned and scurried away down the road.

“But I don’t smell,” Adam said after them. He lifted his left arm and sniffed at his armpit. He pulled his head away quickly and wrinkled his face. “Damn, all this running sure has done a job on me,” he said softly.

But now back to more pressing matters. He hurried across the street and to where he’d left Nurick.

He wasn’t there.

Adam gritted his teeth and began to scan the street. He should have known better. He needed the Vicorean, not only to help him negotiate the purchase of new power-mods, but now to lead him to the planet Ralic-Sim. Adam was sure he couldn’t have gone too far; in fact, just look for the nearest crowd of angry and bloodthirsty Josls.

The nearest escape route for the Vicorean would be back down the alley from which they had just emerged, and when Adam ran for the street, he found what he was expecting—only worse.

There was indeed a crowd there, and so was Nurick. Yet now the crowd had the hapless rat-creature on the ground and was in the advance stages of beating the crap out of him.

“Hey!” Adam yelled out. “Let him go!”

The reaction from the Josls startled even Adam. To the person, they all stopped yelling and beating on Nurick in unison—every last one of them—and all looked in his direction. From a cacophony of angry noise, to nothing in a split second, was shocking. They reminded Adam of a pack of meerkats, all turned in the same direction and staring at him with big dark eyes.

And then as if on cue, half of the natives focused their anger on him and rushed forward with their teeth bared and eyes afire with emotion.

What the fuc—

Adam had no time to think before ten or so Josls barreled into him, knocking him to the ground. From somewhere, the natives had found sticks and hand-size rocks, which they now proceeded to pummel him with repeatedly. As he fought back, Adam noticed that these smallish creatures were quite strong, and they attacked as would a pack of wild animals.

Adam covered his head from the blows, and even though they hurt, they weren’t debilitating. Who he was truly worried about was Nurick.

A stick came arching in towards his head and Adam grabbed it; he pulled, sending the stick’s owner tumbling over him. Now with a weapon, Adam poked at his attackers until a clearing formed around him. However, one particularly obnoxious Josl still had himself wrapped around Adam’s right leg. A poke with the stick to the native’s head sent him tumbling as well.

Adam jumped to his feet. ‘What the hell are you doing? I’m not your enemy!”

“Yet you are with him!” someone in the crowd yelled.

“Yeah, but I don’t like him,” Adam countered. “He’s my prisoner. You have to let me take him away.”

“We will administer our own justice on the feeder!”

Having realized that Adam was a much more potent opponent than the Vicorean, several of his attackers now returned to the mob huddled over Nurick, anxious to get their licks in. Adam rushed to Nurick’s aid, lowering a shoulder and plowing into the crowd of Josls like a linebacker, sending half a dozen of them rolling away down the alley.

And he was just beginning to like these little Hobbit-like creatures.

The crowd backed away. “Let us finish him,” one of the natives pleaded with real emotion.“At least we won’t eat him once he’s dead.”

Adam stood over the injured Vicorean, holding the stick out in front of him menacingly. “I can’t let you do that, even though I understand how you feel.”

“Did they eat your species, as well? If not, then you cannot know how we feel.”

Adam didn’t have time to get into a debate with the angry crowd. Instead, he took Nurick by the arm and lifted him to his feet. The mod dealer was bleeding from a gash in his forehead and his eyes were vacant.

“Nurick, are you all right?” The Vicorean just wobbled where he stood. Oh great, Adam thought. He’s no good to me if he’s a vegetable.

“Nurick!”

Finally, the alien blinked and became aware of his surroundings. He looked at the crowd with panic in his eyes before they focused on Adam.

“They are going to kill me!” he cried out. “Why?”

“Dude, you’re beyond hope,” Adam said out of frustration. “C’mon, we have to get out of here. The spaceport is about half-an-hour up the road.”

Adam turned to the crowd. “All I want to do is get to the spaceport and off your planet. Let us go in peace.” He failed to mention that he didn’t have a spaceship waiting there. That was a revelation left for later.

“Just let them go,” someone in the crowd yelled with disgust.

“Yes, the sooner they leave, the sooner we can have peace again,” said another.

A path cleared in the alleyway, allowing them to pass. Adam had to maintain his grip on Nurick’s arm to lead him in the right direction, but soon they were on the street with the elderly couple and slowly making their way toward the spaceport.

Thirty minutes on Karlis was like an eternity, especially when having to tow Nurick along with him and with remnants of the vicious mob still trailing behind. Yet finally the buildings on his left gave way to a vast field surrounded by a wire fence. As was typical of most spaceports, there wasn’t much to see, just a few hangars set off along the perimeter and an administration building and guard shack near the gated entrance.

Glancing back at the crowd of twenty or so Josls who still followed, Adam wondered how he was going to steal a starship with an audience in attendance. That was something he hadn’t counted on—

But then he heard a distant hum becoming more prominent by the second. It was a spaceship approaching on a shallow gravity-well. The timing couldn’t have better; he would be waiting at the entrance hatch when it opened, a surprise for the ship’s crew.

At the gate, a guard approached, flash weapon drawn and a frown on his yellow forehead.

“What are you doing with this feeder?” he asked as his eyes scanned the bloodied Vicorean up and down.

“I’m taking him back to Vulcan to stand trial for his crimes,” Adam improvised. “You can be assured he will die a horrible death.”

“What ship is yours? I do not recall seeing you arrive.”

“There, the one that’s landing. That’s my ship. We coordinated our arrival at the port.”

The guard looked down the street and at the approaching crowd. ‘Did they do this to him—and to you?”

“Yes they did, but I’m not going to file a complaint.”

The guard snickered. “Complaint, against them? I just wish I could have been part of it. But move along now. Leave as soon as you can. We do not like his kind around here.”

“Right away, officer. Thank you.”

Adam lead Nurick onto the vast field and toward the place where the arriving ship had now switched to chemical landing propellant and was settling to the ground. A thick cloud of hot, white smoke billowed toward Adam and Nurick, causing them to both cough and choke. It would also obscure their approach to the vessel.

From what Adam had seen of the ship, it was fairly small and with a shiny silver hull. The design looked familiar, since it resembled eighty percent of all spacecraft design, in any galaxy.

Surprisingly, the hull near the entrance hatch wasn’t radiating the heat most ships would after arriving from space through the atmosphere of a planet. This one had come from on-planet somewhere, and not very far away. The lack of a hot hull made it possible for him to scoot right up against it and wait for the hatch to open. Adam placed a still groggy Nurick against the hull and then watched as he slid down until he was seated on the charred soil of the spaceport. With Nurick taken care of, Adam would be free for action…when the hatch opened. Of course, he could be waiting here for hours for that to happen.

However, luck was with him that day, as he heard the echoing clank of a release latch being tripped, and then hatch slid sideways into the hull.

A tall figure stepped out of the ship and into the last vestiges of landing exhaust still lingering in the area.

Without hesitation, Adam stepped up to the creature and planted a stiff palm to his chin. The creature fell back through the entrance, with Adam already stepping over the limp body, ready to take on anyone else he found inside. What he found made his jaw drop open.

He was face-to-face with a Vicorean Enforcer, stunned into inaction by the unexpected collapse of his comrade in front of him. Adam recovered quicker from the shock, and slammed an elbow into the chest of the standing Enforcer. As the Vicorean stumbled backwards, Adam snatched a MK-style flash weapon from the alien’s holster and pressed it against the throat of the officer.

“How many more are onboard?” Adam queried through angry, clenched teeth.

‘Only the two of us—you’re the Human!”

Adam pulled the alien’s jacket halfway down his torso, pinning his arms to his sides. “That’s right. And you’re the two who have been chasing me.”

“It is our duty.”

“I understand duty, officer, so I’m really sorry I have to do this, but I need your ship.”

Without waiting for comment, he tossed the Enforcer out the open hatch and onto the dusty field as Adam followed close behind. “Nurick, get in the ship—now!” he yelled.

The mod-dealer had regained some of his senses, and he now slowly rose to his feet before crawling through the entrance hatch and over the inert body of the first Enforcer without comment.

Adam placed a boot on the chest of the Enforcer on the ground and began to pat down the pockets of his uniform. “Where’s my gold?”

The Vicorean hesitated. “It is aboard your ship—”

“I mean the ingots the Polimor officer gave you!”

The Vicorean frowned. “How do you know about that?”

“Never mind; where is it?”

The Enforcer hesitated again—until Adam lit off a flash bolt into the dirt to the left of the alien’s head.

“Mine is in my cabin!” he blurted.“The drawer on the workstation!”

“And your partner’s?”

“I know not where he placed it, I just know we do not carry such weight on own bodies.”

Adam stepped over to the open hatch and grabbed the unconscious Vicorean by his belt buckle. He lifted the body with one arm and tossed it over toward the other Enforcer. He entered the spaceship and then turned to address officer.

“I’ll be leaving now, so you’re on your own…against them.” He pointed in the direction of the spaceport’s main gate.“Bon appetite!”

Those left of the initial Josl crowd had witnessed Adam’s attack on the two Vicoreans and were now rushing toward the ship, along with the armed security guard. Adam shut the hatch, effectively cutting off any concern he had for the two Enforcers outside, feeders who were soon to be left behind on a planet of vengeful Hobbits.

Even though the Vicoreans outside were experiencing different emotions, for his part, Adam was ecstatic. He now had a ship, and one capable of traveling vast interstellar distances. It was also armed, both with external weaponry, as well as an armory somewhere aboard. He would also find a small fraction of his gold.

It was a start. Now all he had to do was get the Pegasus back from a squadron of alien security ships.

If he could do that, then his real mission could finally get back on track.

********

Adam found the pilothouse for the small Enforcer spacecraft and slid into the seat that looked to be where the pilot would sit. And then he stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the console. There was no control stick or wheel, just buttons and a couple of levers. There were also three dark computer screens staring back at him—a large one directly in front of him, and two smaller flanking screens placed at an angle. Everything was dark, and Adam couldn’t find the on/off switch.

“Nurick!” he called back through the open door to the pilothouse. “Get up here, I need you.” He turned back to the console; the last thing he wanted to do was start pushing buttons and flicking switches whose function he couldn’t fathom. Not on a starship. These things had a bad habit of going boom when not treated properly.

“I’m here,” Nurick announced behind him.

Adam turned. “Do you know how—” He stopped in mid-sentence when he saw Nurick standing in the doorway and holding a flash weapon aimed in his direction.

“Fortunately, this is as Enforcer vessel, and as such, there are ample weapons onboard.”

“Don’t be a fool. Put that down and help me get this ship started.”

“I will not. Instead, I will allow the Enforcers back in the ship and return to Vicor with them.”

“They think we’re partners in crime.”

“Yet we are not, and once I explain myself, I will be vindicated.”

Adam nodded and leaned back in the chair. “Fine then, open the hatch and let the Enforcers back in.” He motioned with his head in the direction of the forward viewport.

Nurick moved along the side wall of the pilothouse, maintaining a safe distance from Adam, until he was at the large window and looked out.

Adam saw Nurick go pale.

The crowd of Josls had reached the two Enforcers by now, and feeling like they had been robbed of the chance to seek vengeance against Nurick, were delighting in the literal dismemberment of the two Vicorean officers. The scene was like something out of a horror movie, with several of the natives drenched in the blood of the Enforcers, while others waved severed body parts above their heads in a primal display of savage dominance.

“They don’t very much care for your kind around here,” Adam said. “And with the Enforcers now dead, you’ll have a lot more explaining to do back on Vicor other than simply how you came to be aboard the Pegasus. And I should warn you, I’ll be very convincing in my claim that you and I planned this from the beginning.”

Nurick was frozen in shock at the horrific scene outside the ship, so much so that he didn’t notice as Adam left the pilot seat and moved over next to him. Adam didn’t bother taking the weapon from Nurick’s hand; the Vicorean was now standing with the gun held limply in his right hand, no longer a threat.

“Why are they doing such a savage thing? They are like a pack of wild animals. It has been several hundred years—and then only for a brief time back then—did Vicoreans and Josls interact.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have eaten them. I imagine some species would find that a little hard to get over, no matter how long ago it was. Now, if you don’t want the mob breaking in here and doing the same thing to us, I would suggest you help me get this ship running.”

Nurick pulled his eyes from the bloody scene and looked at Adam. “Yes, of course. I do not wish to share the fate of my fellow Vicoreans.”

“Can you fly this thing?”

Nurick moved over to the pilot seat and slipped in. “I told you once before that I have more experience than most of my competitors. That was true. I spent twelve years as a pilot and engine systems engineer before moving into the power-mod business. In addition, my company supplies a fair share of the mods for the Enforcer fleet, so I am quite intimate with the functioning of their vessels.”

“Good…now how about hurrying it up. The natives are restless.”

To accent his point, there was banging on the entrance hatch by now. Nurick pressed a series of buttons and the familiar hum of the gravity generators was heard as a soft background noise to the banging on the hull. As expected, the banging quickly ended, and when Adam looked out the viewport, he saw dozens of Josls running from the ship in all directions.

A moment later, a loud blast was heard as the lifting engines kicked in. The view from the outside became nothing but a mass of roiling gray smoke, yet as the cloud fell away quickly as the ship gained altitude, and Adam could see the entire expanse of the spaceport spreading out below—along with the now-hundreds of ant-like dots that was the savage pack of natives forming a near perfect circle at the outer reaches of the ship’s launch blast. If any had been within the blast zone at the time of lift-off, he would never know.

Nurick engaged the gravity drive and internals, and a minute later they were in suborbital space.

“Where to now,” the Vicorean asked.

“Head over towards the landing zone for the Pegasus. I want to see if the hauler is there yet.”

Nurick snorted. Adam could tell by his expression that the alien was thoroughly dejected. Adam set a hand on his shoulder. “Thanks for doing this, and I promise, as soon as I get the Pegasus back and you help me purchase some hybrid modules, I’ll let you go. I’ll even leave evidence around that proves you were nothing but an unfortunate victim of circumstance.”

“I would appreciate that.” The alien’s tone was still one of sad resignation. “That is assuming we survive the coming ordeal.”

“Yeah, that’s always the fly in the ointment, isn’t it?”

Nurick chocked his head in Adam’s direction. “You Humans do have a strange way of talking. I think at this point I will only half Listen to what you say, seeing that I only understand half of what you mean already.”

“So you’d only understand a quarter of what I say?” Adam tried to lighten the mood with a thin smile.

“Please, Adam Cain, I am in no mood for your mind puzzles. We are now above the landing zone. I will place a magnified image on the monitor.”

Adam was glad for the distraction, yet what he saw on the screen made his heart race.

There was a large, dark spacecraft hovering directly over the Pegasus. Energy readouts showed that the larger vessel was operating on gravity drive and was at that very moment lifting Adam’s ship off the surface of Karlis, having enveloped it in a powerful gravity well. The two other dark ships were also lifting off yet using chemical propellant rather than their gravity drives. Too many wells in the vicinity could cause problems.

As he watched the Pegasus and host gain altitude, Adam also saw his first option for recovering the ship quickly fading away. He had hoped to use the Enforcer craft to launch a surprise attack while the Clan ships still sat on the surface. But if Adam attacked now—and the huge hauler lost power—the Pegasus would fall to the surface like a rock, smashing it to pieces.

“What open space weaponry does this ship have?” he asked Nurick.

The alien frowned. “Only one mid-range flash cannon. You must remember this is a local law enforcement vessel, not a warcraft.

That bit of knowledge put even more of a damper on Adam’s prospects. Failing an attack on the surface, he had hoped to engage the Clan ships in a pitched space battle, but armed with only one flash cannon, that would be suicide. It looked like he would have to wait until they got to Ralic-Sim to make his move.

Just then, a beeping came from the speakers in the pilothouse. “Enforcer craft, you are within our launch cone. State your intentions.”

Realizing that the ship’s transponder identified them an Enforcer craft, Adam reached out his hand and stopped Nurick from responding. “I have an idea.”

On the bulkhead next to the entrance to the pilothouse hung two Enforcer weather jackets, left there by the previous occupants of the ship. Adam grabbed one and tossed it to Nurick. “Put that on—hurry.”

“You want me to impersonate an Enforcer? That is against the law.”

“So is stealing their starship. Just put it on. Then tell them that you’ll be accompanying them to Ralic-Sim.”

“As you wish.”

Adam moved out of sight of the pilot’s camera. After a moment of explanation, the clansmon asked, “Why do you feel the need to do so? And what of the two fugitives you were after? Did you apprehend them?”

Adam reached across the console and pushed the button that terminated the link. ‘Why did you do that?” Nurick asked.

“So we can get our stories straight. First of all, tell them that the Vicorean and Human are dead. They resisted arrest and so they had to be killed. And second, say you need to check the ship’s computer to find out to what extent the Vicorean was involved in the criminal activities of the Human. Since the computers are down, we’ll go along to Ralic-Sim on the assumption that the technicians there can restore the computers. Hurry now, before they grow suspicious of the silence.”

Nurick pushed the comm button again. “Sorry for the dropped link; it happens sometimes.” He went on to repeat the storyline Adam had just improvised.

“Very well, as long as you accept that the ship—and all its cargo—belongs to the Clan.”

“Understood. Now we will shadow you out a few hundred thousand miles during the journey. Please do not confuse us for a hostile vessel.”

“If you do nothing hostile towards us, your status will remain benign. Communications are now ceasing.”

“Ceasing communications.”

********

“Do you have any idea what you will do when we reach Ralic-Sim? It is only a three-day journey.”

Adam sat down in the co-pilot’s seat. “How do I get a navigation view on this screen?” Nurick pressed a few buttons and the screen in front of Adam lit up, displaying a vicinity readout and showing the four-ship caravan off to their left.

“The problem I have is that until I can get some replacement energy modules, the Pegasus is just like every other ship out here, so it could be a hassle getting her off Ralic-Sim and making a run for it. Would these Polimor Clan creatures have the mods I need?”

“Quite possibly, however I see that as adding an extra layer of difficulty to your mission.”

“I don’t have a choice. Tell me more about the planet Ralic-Sim. Are there enough odd aliens running round there that I could blend in?”

“There are very few running around, except possibly for exercise. Most will be walking or taking transports of one sort or another.”

“I mean can I move about the planet without attracting too much attention?”

“Oh…I believe so. There are dozens of species on Ralic-Sim and the clansmon who absconded with your spacecraft have not seen you.”

“So I can pass as an Enforcer?”

“Not a Vicorean Enforcer, but possibly as an advisor or specialist.”

“Perfect. I’ll pose as a computer and propulsion expert with knowledge of the systems on the Pegasus. Just get me close and I’ll take it from there.” He laughed.“I might even get them to supply me with the modules I need, all under the guise of helping get the ship working again.”

“Your plan still involves considerable risk.”

“That’s what makes this line of work so exciting.”

Nurick slid out of the pilot’s seat. “The Human race is a perplexing species. You seek out danger and then revel in the adventure it brings. It is a miracle you have survived as long as you have.” He headed for the door to the pilothouse. “I set the automatic controls to maintain contact with the Polimor ships. I am now going to seek out food and rest aboard this stolen vessel.”

Adam followed. “Hey Nurick…you ever had an IPA beer?”

Chapter 8

Three hours later both Human and alien were three-sheets-to-the-wind and sprawled out on opposite lounges in the ship’s combination common room and galley. In addition to the beer, Adam had also done his best to concoct something similar to a Hostess Ho-Ho using the ship’s food processing computer. The sugar rush hit Nurick particularly hard, and the alien couldn’t get the computer to spit out the decadent dessert cakes fast enough.

Before Adam reached the stage where he really didn’t give a shit anymore—which was about an hour ago—he had been impressed with Nurick’s ability to hold his own in a drinking contest with a Human.

“Dude, do you drink much?” Adam had asked at the time.

“I assume you mean intoxicants—to which the answer is yes! Among our many other stellar accomplishments, Vicoreans are also master brewers of fermented beverages. Your creation is refreshing, yet not nearly as potent as some of our premium lines.”

Adam had toasted the intoxicated alien, a gesture which in itself required an explanation. Nurick had delighted in the ceremony and symbolism of the Human practice, and soon he was toasting everything—Adam, the Enforcer ship, Nurick’s recently-departed birth-mother…even the shoes he wore. Adam eventually had to explain the concept of overdoing it, which only served to hurt Nurick’s feelings, at least for a moment. Soon he was his jubilant, happy-drunk-self again, and over the course of three hours, the pair downed seventeen beers between them.

********

They fell asleep on the lounges, and seven hours later Adam awoke with a jackhammer going off in his head and having to piss like a racehorse. When he came out of the tiny bathroom he found Nurick at the food processing station, actually humming a tune.

“Oh man, I feel like shit,” Adam said as he fell back on the lounge. “How about you?”

“I am beginning to grasp Human colloquialisms, so I understand the statement and question. To answer, I feel fine; have you contracted an illness of some kind?”

“Nah; I’m hung over. Don’t your people get hung over after a bender—after you’ve been drinking a lot?”

“Hung over must mean to become sick from the drinking. The answer is no. We certainly feel the effects of the intoxicant, yet there never seem to be any lingering consequences. Yet as I look now, I see that Humans do not share this immunity. If it affects you so, why do you continue to consume?”

“That is the age-old question, my friend.” Adam managed to drag himself off the lounge and step up to the processing station, calling up another dark ale. Nurick watched with disbelief.

“Do you delight in feeling miserable?”

Adam took a long swig from the glass. When he was through, he wiped his upper lip and smiled at Nurick. “We call this the-hair-of-the-dog. Don’t ask me why, but believe it or not, it helps us get over a hangover.”

Nurick shook his head and continued with what he was doing. He had prepared a meal of a brown paste, green mush and red goo, which he took to a small peninsula table attached to the bulkhead and began to enthusiastically maneuver the slimy mess into his mouth using only his fingers.

For his part, Adam came away from the food station with something that looked like eggs-over-medium and hash browns. After scouring the various drawers and cabinets near the food processing station, all he could find as far as utensils went was a small knife. He sat down with his breakfast across from Nurick and dug in like a man who hadn’t eaten in a week. Neither spoke as they ate, and when Nurick was done, he cleaned his mouth, face and hands thoroughly with his long tongue, just like a dog. Adam hadn’t made such a mess, and after a simple brush of his mouth on his sleeve, he was good to go.

“So tell me about Ralic-Sim and these Clan people. The more I know the better chance we’ll have getting through this thing.”

“Tanic consists of over twenty major Clans,” Nurick began. “Nearly all creatures are part of one of them.”

“So the Polimors control this region of space?”

“In a way; there are many Clans with members in this part of Tanic. When we reach Ralic-Sim, you will see that nearly all Clans have members living on the planet. They are interacting with each other, as channelers buying and selling merchandise and services, as financiers settling on acceptable rates of credit exchange, and as regulators negotiating terms and conditions on a variety of topics.”

“Yet you said Ralic-Sim was essentially the capital planet of the Polimors.”

“It is where they do their major manufacturing,” Nurick replied. “They have research centers there, as well.”

“And everyone gets along, no conflicts?”

Nurick smiled, his beady eyes becoming even beadier as he did so. “I did not say that. Anytime there is interaction between sentient beings, there will be conflict.”

“Yet there’s no military, no central command and control authority?”

‘The closest we have to that is the Kiran Clan, headed by Alic Kiran. I believe you mentioned him earlier, as the one your enemy is to meet.”

“That’s right. So what makes him and his Clan so powerful?”

Nurick got up from the table and began to make what smelled like coffee at the processing station. “Would you like one? It contains a stimulant often used in the early hours of the day to fend off the effects of sleep.”

“I would love one. Add a little cream or milk and a sweetener in mine, if you will.”

“The Kiran Clan has a semi-monopoly on technology from the Silean Galaxy; they have for hundreds of years,” Nurick said as he made the coffee.“And yet they have gone beyond simply controlling the access to these products to now manufacturing them. Near the planet Anicett, there are a dozen worlds with highly-secured factories churning out the vital necessities for Tanic.”

Nurick returned to the table and placed a streaming cup of a coffee-like drink in front of him. Adam sampled it with satisfaction. This will certainly help with the headache, he thought. At least he sincerely hoped it would. 

Nurick continued: “As a consequence of having to maintain security for their facilities, over time the Kiran Clan has developed a very large and diverse Enforcer organization of their own, until now it operates as close to a military force as anything in the galaxy. Also, as part of the channeler and service agreements all the other Clans have signed with the Kirans, this security force is authorized to operate in all jurisdictions and to pursue whatever means deemed necessary to maintain the integrity of the agreements.”

“So they have a license to kill, essentially?”

“If need be, and they are certainly not opposed to the practice.”

Adam finished off his coffee, and between the hair-of-the-dog beer, the breakfast and the coffee, he was beginning to feel like himself again. I swear I’ll never drink like that again!

“Since you said the Kirans control the manufacture of gravity-drives, they will certainly hear about the Pegasus once it gets to Ralic-Sim. What will they do then?”

“The technology for your ship was not acquired from the Kiran Clan, so the Polimors have a legal claim that cannot be challenged.” Adam noticed Nurick smile. “But that does not mean they will not attempt to steal the knowledge from the Polimors. And with what is at stake for the galaxy, I imagine every Clan that learns of the eight-focusing-ring array will attempt to do the same.”

“That means it could get pretty crowded once we get there.”

“That is an understatement.” Nurick’s face now grew serious. “You must also realize that simply reacquiring your vessel will not be the end of your ordeal. I imagine half the galaxy will pursue you until they succeed in their quest, or you leave the galaxy.”

“Believe me my friend I don’t want to spend a minute longer here than I have to.”

“Yes, I know. You will go home, once you have tracked down and dispatched this ruthless criminal and his small clan of one hundred creatures just like you?” Nurick’s voice was thick with sarcasm.

Adam smiled. “Let’s just get the Pegasus back first. I’ll worry about how I’m going to defeat Nigel McCarthy at another time.”

“Good luck with that.”

“Oh ye of little faith.”

Chapter 9

As they neared the planet Ralic-Sim, Nurick formed up closer with the small caravan of Polimor ships and followed them into the atmosphere and toward the largest city on the planet, a place called Balic-Mor. On approach, Adam was impressed with the size of the city and its apparent technological level. The urban sprawl extended easily for twenty miles or more in all directions, with dozens of skyscrapers, an elaborate road system and what appeared to be housing subdivisions in a hundred different clusters along the outskirts. Balic-Mor could easily pass for any large city back on Earth, a thought that made Adam feel a little more confident with his short-term plan. At least he wouldn’t be dealing with some exotic and incomprehensible alien environment. 

The Polimors set the Pegasus down in a secure spaceport located on the northern edge of the city and near a vast complex of huge commercial warehouses and other buildings.

“This could be the Polimor technical research center,” Nurick said as they swept in preparing for landing.

“You mean you aren’t sure? Haven’t you been here before?”

“No, I have never been here. I had no reason to visit during my time as a pilot. They have a large commerce center on Huof. That was where I spent most of my time.”

“I thought you knew your way around here.”

“I am sorry if I gave you that impression—”

Nurick was interrupted by a landing challenge from the ground. After explaining who he was and his mission, he was given clearance to land.

“That conversation will be more evidence of my collusion in this deception,” he said after breaking the link.“I am hoping the recordings we have made will help to shield me from prosecution upon my return to Vicor.”

Adam had a flash weapon holstered around his waist; he pulled it out and pointed the barrel at Nurick. “Do as I say…or I’ll shoot,” he said with a smile.

“Such a humor, Adam Cain.”

The smile vanished from Adam’s face. “What do you mean? I’m being serious now.”

“I just hope you can maintain your good spirits as we enter the most dangerous phase of your plan.”

Adam had grown more confident with his plan as the hours passed and the prospect of being aboard the Pegasus once again drew closer. They were just now touching down, and so it should only be another hour or so.

It turned out to be closer to twelve, and by then Adam was fuming, upset with all the bureaucratic bullshit he and Nurick endured before the Polimors were finally convinced that his expertise was needed. The Clan had sent three tech teams aboard the Pegasus before finally conceding that they were at a loss as to why the systems wouldn’t reactivate.

Adam knew why. He sat on an open-air transport just outside the ship, and through his ATD, had thwarted every effort the technicians made to reboot the computers. They had achieved their goal three times, and each time they did Adam simply turned it off again. The best minds the Polimors had to offer couldn’t figure it out, and as a last resort, they agreed to let the specialist from Vicor see what he could do.

Adam was having fun with this, and he played the role of the nerdy computer geek to the hilt. He had attached a chain to a datapad and then hung it around his neck, along with a second pad stuffed in the chest pocket of a Vicorean jacket he found in the Enforcer spacecraft. He also carried a third datapad in his hand. He mussed up his medium length blond hair and even pulled his shirt tail half out of his pants, completing the unkempt look. Whether the Polimors would interpret this as being nerdy or not, he didn’t know, but it sure did help to get him into character. He looked the part, so he felt the part. Now all he had to do was act the part.

“Please allow my assistant entry as well,” he said to the eight-alien entourage of security and technical experts.

One of the Vicoreans standing along the perimeter of the security zone around the Pegasus was the lead clansmon who had brought the ship from Karlis. Adam recognized him from the video eavesdropping he had done from the ridge overlooking the landing zone. Adam believed he was referred to as Captain Crous. The alien was frowning.

Suddenly, he ducked under the security tape and was immediately intercepted by a guard. They spoke for a few moments before the guard escorted the officer to the entourage just before Adam and Nurick entered the Pegasus. The lead Polimor—a non-Vicorean female alien named Solius Vix, and with dark skin and dreadlocks reaching halfway down her back, held up a hand that stopped the parade into the ship.

Adam tensed.

“Proceed, Captain Crous,” said Solius Vix.

The Vicorean stepped up to Nurick. “You are not the two Enforcers I met on Karlis,” he stated with suspicion. “Where are they?”

Adam could see Nurick also tense up, and just in case, Adam moved his hand closer to the grip of his flash weapon.

“They were called away upon landing. They will return in a few hours,” Nurick answered, reciting the story they had rehearsed in the event they were questioned.

“But I did not see you—or your so-called expert—aboard the Enforcer ship while on Karlis.”

Adam stepped close to the Vicorean and began to look him up and down in an exaggerated fashion. “I do not recall seeing you there, either,” he said to the alien. “Maybe it is because you never entered our vessel. Since I did not see you aboard the ship, then I have no proof you were ever on Karlis.”

Crous looked completely confused. He turned to Solius Vix. “I am the one who brought the ship to Ralic-Sim; of course I was on Karlis.”

“From my perspective, you were never there,” Adam reiterated.

“What is your name, expert?” Solius asked.

“Clint Eastwood, Lord Vix,” he answered.

Solius nodded. “Clint Eastwood has a point,” she said, “although an absurd one. Did you not go aboard the Enforcer ship?” she asked the Vicorean.

“No, I did not, yet I did not get the impression from the two Enforcers that there were others onboard, and especially not an expert in Silean technology. Why did he not attempt to reactivate the ship while on Karlis?”

All eyes turned to Adam. He sent them all a thin, goofy smile. “Why pursue an alien spacecraft with a unique propulsion system without enlisting the assistance of an expert, such as me?” he said in character.“The Vicoreans thought it prudent that I accompany the Enforcers on their mission. I must interject at this point that the Vicoreans aboard were ambivalent to my presence aboard their ship. As far as your perception of the thoughts of the other Enforcers—Josel and Loren—I bow to your superior intuition. They never asked me to work on the alien ship at that time, I know not why.” He had learned the names of the other two Enforcers by rummaging through their personal effects on the ship while looking for his gold ingots.

“Let them pass,” Solius said. “You may also accompany us, pilot. You seem to have some reason to distrust this creature. Our best technicians have failed to break through the ship’s security systems so let us now see how much of an expert Clint Eastwood truly is.”

Soon they were all crowded on the bridge of the Pegasus. Adam sat in the pilot’s seat, and then wriggled his butt into the seat, as if forming it to his shape.

“How is it that you came to be an expert in technology that originated in the Silean Galaxy?” Captain Crous asked, suspicion thick in his voice.

“A fair question, Captain Couch.”

“That is Crous, Captain Crous.”

“In the end, your name does not matter, does it?” Adam said in character. “But to answer your question, I worked with the Kiran Clan for a number of years on their Silean engineering investigations,” he began.“Prior to that, I made the excruciatingly long journey to the Silean Galaxy, where I studied computer and propulsion systems at the prestigious Einstein Institute on Timbuktu. I am sure you’ve heard of it.”

Adam looked pointedly at the Captain. The alien nodded emphatically. “Of course I have,” Crous lied.

Adam fought hard not to smile.

“Now let’s see what seems to the problem.” Adam had already made mental contact with the ship’s computer through his ATD. Now he was going to have some fun with the aliens.

He pressed a button—one that would normally regulate the heat and air in the cabin, but now he had the computer blast out a screeching siren at deafening levels. Everyone cringed and covered their ears. “Oh my god, it’s going critical and about to explode!” He rose up out of his chair and leaned toward the entrance to the bridge. Two of the aliens in the room fled, while all the others took at least a step in that direction. Adam pressed the button again and the siren went silent.

“Not really. Just having some fun,” he said with a grin. There were three species of alien in the room at that time, and all had gone suddenly pale—all except Captain Crous. He now glared at Adam with his beady red eyes.

“I would advise you not to do that again, Clint Eastwood,” Solius said between gritted teeth.

“He was able to get the ship to do his bidding,” a voice said from the crowd.

“That is correct,” Solius concurred. “Now make it do something useful.”

Adam turned back to the console. “This is your typical Cain Computer System, named of course for the glorious hero of the Silean Galaxy who, after forty days and forty nights, led his people to safety through the deserts of Krypton.” He glanced at Captain Crous. “When your people attempted to access the computer system they nearly wiped the memory clean. I will now try a workaround to fix the mess you caused.”

Adam pressed a few more buttons before allowing the main computer screen to come to life. It glowed white for a few seconds before a scroll of words came up. They were written in English. Adam pursed his lips. He had pulled up the first pages of Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea from an ancient Kindle file.

“This could take longer than I thought,” he said after reading the screen.“I will log into the engine status file and see if I can find some better news.”

A moment later another screen lit up to Adam’s left. He leaned over and began scanning the words displayed there. This one was from A Christmas Carol by Dickens.

“What does it say?” Solius Vix asked.

Adam frowned as he scanned the lines of type. “The engine core has been damaged. It requires NX-2 energy modules and the ones acquired on Vicor are S-3’s. Even if I could get the computers linked to the generators it would do no good without the proper energy modules.”

Solius Vix turned to another alien, one of a species different from her. “Have a supply of NX-2’s sent over here immediately,” she ordered. She then turned back to Adam. “This ship has eight focusing rings,” she stated. “Eight should suffice.”

“I would triple that amount, Lord Vix,” Adam said. “These gravity engines are notorious for bleeding energy, not only with the rings, but also for all the other systems aboard. Once I get all the systems back online, and I run the diagnostics, we will run through a set of mods in no time flat.”

“Yes, of course. Dosil, bring twenty-four modules.” The Polimor clan leader was beaming with joy at this point. “So you believe you can get this ship functional again, after the mistakes made to it on Karlis?” She turned to glare at Captain Crous.

“Yes,” Adam said with confidence. “Yet it could still take a couple of days of very tedious work and reprogramming for me and my assistant.” He looked at the overcrowded bridge. “I’m sure the ship can accommodate at least you, Lord Vix, and two or three of your entourage during that time.”

“We will not be staying. Just get the ship operational again, Clint Eastwood, and there will be a sizeable benefit provided for you at the conclusion. In the meantime, Dosil Crin will have the necessary energy modules delivered and installed without delay.”

She turned and nodded to the other Polimor clansmon in the room. All except three left the bridge. Captain Crous remained. “You say two days until the ship will be fully functional?”

“Yes, around that time.”

“So I can schedule a revealing to Lord Dakken by that time? He will be most anxious to see the new prize I have for him.”

“Give me fifty local hours just to make sure,” Adam said with a grin. He was nearly bubbling over with excitement, emotions he was fighting hard to contain.

“That is acceptable.” The alien then placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “You have done a remarkable job, Clint Eastwood, a job my technicians—as well as my captains—have failed to complete.”

Adam looked at Captain Crous and grinned. He could tell Crous was fighting the urge to tear into Adam will all he had. Only the presence of his boss in the room prevented it.

“A favor, Lord Vix,” Adam said.

“Yes, anything.”

“Captain Crous here seems to be very hostile to me. This is making me nervous and unable to function at the top of my abilities. Can you please see to it that he leaves me and my assistant alone as we work?”

Solius whipped around in Crous’s direction. “Of course I can,” said Solius. “Lopis and Morr please escort the Captain off this ship and have him locked away until I issue orders to the contrary.”

“But Lord Vix, I have done nothing wrong!”

“Through your carelessness, you almost destroyed the single-most important technological acquisition the Polimor Clan has ever made. The advances learned from this ship will allow the Polimors to challenge Alic Kiran for dominance of Tanic. The efforts of Clint Eastwood must not be impaired. You will be released after the ship is functional again and Lord Dakken has come and gone. Do not protest Captain, or I may make your confinement permanent.”

Crous snapped his rat-like mouth shut as Solius’s two alien associates flanked him, and after one last venomous glare at Adam, he was escorted off the bridge.

“I will now leave you and your assistant to your work,” Solius said. “Let us know of anything else you require.”

“Just the energy modules and some privacy,’ said Adam, struggling to keep his grin from erupting into a full blown smile. “This is very detailed and intricate work we must complete. Distractions will only slow our progress.”

Solius nodded emphatically. “Understood, I will leave now.”

********

After he and Nurick were sure everyone had left the ship, Adam burst out laughing, drumming on the pilot’s console a couple of times as he did so.

“That couldn’t have gone any better!” he said.

Adam could see the joy in Nurick’s eyes as well, even though the Vicorean didn’t share the full range of contagious emotion Adam was feeling.

“And you are gaining twenty-four hybrid modules in the process. You must be overjoyed with the outcome.”

“I am, my friend,’ Adam said. “We’ll get the mods installed and then take the Pegasus up for a test drive, with you in the Enforcer ship flying escort. And then I’ll take off for Anicett and you can return to Vicor.”

“Even as I do, there will be many questions asked of me upon my return.”

“Don’t worry, Nurick. We’ll keep building the case for your involuntary help. You’ll be fine.”

Adam was ecstatic. He used his ATD to bring the ship back to life, including the brush of fresh air against his face as the a/c kicked in. The crush of alien flesh in the room had left quite a stench.

Things may turn out right after all, he thought.

And as has been said countless times before, he spoke too soon.

********

Even though his ATD couldn’t control electronic devices built in this galaxy, it could still detect their presence. And if Adam hadn’t been so distracted by his own joy and excitement, he might have sensed the small Listening device Captain Crous had slipped under the navigation station console.

Now, Foslin Bak, Crous’s second-in-command, listened to the conversation taking place on the bridge of the Pegasus from aboard his ship, the K-92, located about a mile from the Pegasus. With his captain in the process of being hauled away to spend the next fifty hours in confinement, Foslin wasn’t sure what to do with the information he’d just overheard. It was obvious the creature Clint Eastwood—along with the Vicorean—were not what they seemed, and they had a plan for absconding with the alien starship.

Foslin suddenly grimaced as a horrible thought occurred to him, and in a panic, he pressed the button on the console that would now begin recording the conversation he was listening to.

At least all future conversations would be recorded, even if not the first revelation just overheard, he thought.

That was a missed opportunity. However, Crous had never told him to record the Listening device. And now without a recording of the plan to steal the alien ship, Foslin was without evidence. His Captain would be furious when he learns of Foslin’s oversight.

So I will simply not tell him of the prior conversation, Foslin thought. I will instead hope for further recorded evidence. Yes, that is a good plan. Crous need never know of what I heard, although I will take it upon myself to thwart the alien’s plan. In that way, I will become the hero, and not my Captain. As a consequence, I may end up a captain myself. Yes, this is a very good plan….

Chapter 10

Like all the members of Captain Crous’s crew, Foslin Bak was a Vicorean. He was also a former Enforcer who had moved onto the more lucrative job with the Security Section of the Polimor Clan four years before. Even though he had moved on, Foslin still maintained cordial—if somewhat strained—relations with several of his former colleagues back on Vicor.

With no firm plan for exposing the two imposters aboard the Silean spacecraft, he first needed to learn under whose authority they were operating. With the K-92 resting on a landing pad at the spaceport, all the other crewmembers were now off-ship and enjoying some time in the city, so Foslin had the comm station to himself when he established a link with Vicor. He sent out the burst message, informing his contact in Enforcer headquarters that the NK-90 was now on Ralic-Sim and that the specialist Clint Eastwood, along with the Enforcer Nurick Nur, were now attempting to learn the operational secrets of the eight-array starship they had been sent to track down and investigate.

Foslin knew he had to be careful. Even though he was a former Enforcer, there was still a lot of resentment within the Corps for Clan Security. Clan business always took precedence over local authority, so this resentment was often a one-way street and aimed in Foslin’s direction. And the fact that he had abandoned his native security force for a more prestigious organization had upset more than a few of his associates.

So he couldn’t very well come out and start questioning the actions and motives of the team they had sent after the alien spacecraft, not without it coming across as some overriding of their authority. He would simply make a report and open a dialogue with Juris Lim, his old partner within the Corps. From there he could probe a little deeper, depending on Juris’s reaction to his link.

Communications to and from Vicor would take fifteen minutes to complete, so Foslin waited anxiously in the quiet of the K-92, hoping that Juris was in his office. He knew the local time on Vicor, so he should be, unless he was out on an assignment.

When an hour had passed, and still no answer, Foslin was about to give up this tack and try another, when suddenly the comm beeped, and the image of Juris Lim appeared on the screen.

“Greetings, Foslin, I hope this communiqué finds you well,” said Juris Lim in the minutes-old recording. Foslin noticed his former colleague looked concerned. “Sorry it took me so long to return the link, but I was confused by the content of your message. It took time for me to research the references you made. Yet even after my research, I am still confused.”

Within the recording, Juris placed a secondary box on the screen. It showed two Vicorean Enforcers in a still-frame picture. “If you are correct regarding the designation of the Enforcer craft sent in pursuit of the aforementioned Silean spacecraft, that vessel is crewed by Josel Kil and Loren Mols. There is also no mention of a specialist being assigned to the mission. That craft—the NK-90—was sent in pursuit of a Silean vessel whose owner accosted several Enforcers and local civilians, causing bodily harm to several. Upon last report, the vessel was located on the planet Karlis, along with a number of your Clan security vessels. That is the last we heard from the crew. In addition, there is no Enforcer named Nurick Nur within the Corps; however, there is a power-module channeler by that name. I was able to discern that he was engaged in a business transaction with the Silean vessel’s owner—a creature named Adam Cain—just prior to the ship fleeing from Vicor. Since the untimely departure of the alien spacecraft, the channeler has not been seen back at his facility or his home.”

Juris paused as an image of the Vicorean Nurick Nur replaced that of the two Enforcers in the small box. “As you can tell now, I am quite confused regarding the report you filed, since none of the facts match those from here. I have sent a ping to the NK-90 for a status update on the crew, yet have not received a reply as of my replying to your link. What I will ask of you is a secondary confirmation that the Enforcer ship you speak of is indeed the NK-90. In light of all the information to the contrary, I suspect you are mistaken. I will await your reply, Foslin, although I will be leaving my station in two hours from the time you receive this reply. I will mention your contact to Kilie; she will be glad to hear you are well.”

After the message ended with the image of his old friend Juris Lim frozen on the screen—along with the very recognizable Nurick Nur in the smaller box—Foslin knew there had been no mistake. That was Nur aboard the Silean ship, and the so-called specialist had to be none other than the ship’s owner—the alien Adam Cain.

So if these two had arrived in the NK-90, what happened to the two Enforcers? It didn’t take a lot of imagination on Foslin’s part to surmise an answer. After all, Foslin was a trained criminal enforcer, whether he worked for the Corps or the Clan. Somehow on the planet Karlis, Nur and Cain had gained control of the NK-90, probably at the final demise of Josel and Loren. And now Adam Cain was here on Ralic-Sim to recover his ship. How involved in the conspiracy was Nurick Nur, Foslin had no idea, although Cain did mention that after securing his ship, Nurick could return to Vicor aboard the Enforcer spacecraft, implying some kind of forced participation on the Vicorean’s part, while the alien journeyed to Anicett. That reference, in itself, would implicate the Kiran Clan in whatever conspiracy is underway.

Foslin leaned back in his chair and smiled. With the recording he’d just received, it was indeed very likely that Nurick would return to Vicor in the NK-90, yet not as its pilot, but rather as a prisoner within.

Foslin had no time to waste. The alien Adam Cain could lift off at any moment; after all it was his ship and he knew the systems intimately. Foslin made a quick copy of the transmission with Juris for his datapad and then hurried out of the K-92. He would take this information directly to Lord Solius Vix. His captain would be released, yet it would be he—Foslin— who would be thanked and rewarded for his independent actions, as well as for the prevention of a major embarrassment for Vice-Lord Solius Vix.

Foslin was proud of himself. All it had taken was one link to his source and the mystery of the two imposters was solved. Yes, his reward would substantial—and well-deserved. His future within the Security Directorate would be secure.

Chapter 11

“Perhaps I should be returning to the Enforcer spacecraft,” Nurick said as he watched the power-modules being loaded aboard the Pegasus. Adam stood within arm’s reach of the Vicorean, just in case he made a break for freedom.

“Be patient. Let’s get the mods hooked up first. These are the right models, aren’t they?” Adam’s tone was biting and accusatory.

“Yes they are, and I know what you are insinuating. I repeat, your negotiations left me little choice but to substitute the hybrids for standard mods.”

“And if you hadn’t, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Sorry, Nurick; you stay with me until I’m ready to lift off.”

The two of them approached the tech crew, with Adam sending out orders to begin the install immediately. There was ample labor for the job. This Solius Vix creature really wanted to make an impression on her boss by running the Pegasus through her paces as soon as possible, The timetable suited Adam just fine. Once the mods were installed, and he and Nurick were up on the test drive, he could send the Vicorean away in the Enforcer ship, while he engaged the full gravity-drive of the Pegasus and bolted out of Polimor territory before anyone was the wiser.

Nurick and Adam returned to the interior of the Pegasus. Adam had already counted out an amount of gold equivalent to two hundred locbars and had the bars stacked neatly on a table on the mess deck. Even though he knew nearly all his problems had been caused by Nurick’s supply of inferior power-modules, he was also aware that Nurick’s return to Vicor may not go as smoothly as planned. The extra money should help with any legal defense he may need.

Even with all the gold staring him in the face, Nurick still looked depressed. So they spent the next hour recording even more staged conversations between Adam and the Vicorean, all designed to clear Nurick of any wrongdoing. These conversations were then loaded into a datapad which Adam handed to Nurick.

“I appreciate this,” Nurick said as he considered the small black box in his hand. “However, I’m afraid that with the deaths of the two Enforcers—and you gone to places unknown—it may not be enough. Someone will have to answer for the deaths.”

“You had nothing to do with that; it’s all in there. You’ll be fine. Just another hour and we’ll be on our way—”

The installation of power-modules is a noisy affair, as workers used powerful air wrenches to loosen and tighten bolts which held the units in place near the focusing ring housings. Also, these workers were a talkative lot—not Vicoreans or the species of Solius Vix—but of some other species that apparently had a lot to say to one another.

So when suddenly the ship fell silent, Adam noticed right away.

Nurick and he exchanged a look. “That was quick,” the alien commented.

“Too quick,” Adam added.

The pair went aft to the cargo bay, where a few of the install crew were still there, but in the process of leaving. “Are you done already?” Adam asked.

“No,” answered one of the aliens. “Work ordered to be stopped.”

“This can’t be good,” Adam said to Nurick. “Get back to the bridge while I secure the cargo bay.”

“But what about the Enforcer ship? I need to get aboard.”

“First things first. Let’s see what’s going on, and then if we can, get you to the ship. But if it comes to getting away fast, it might be wise for you to stay aboard the Pegasus.”

“I am not going with you again!”

Adam was at the controls of the hanger door, which was in the process of closing even as the last of the alien technicians hurried off the ship. The last one barely squeezed through before the door thundered to a close.

“Fine,” Adam said as he brushed past a defiant Nurick Nur on his way to the bridge. “Stay here and face the Clan courts and not those of Vicor. I’m sure the Polimors will be a lot more understanding. But I’m telling you, I have a bad feeling about this.”

Even before reaching the bridge, Adam had already jumped started the generators using his ATD. His old friend Kaylor used to always keep one generator humming while in port, just in case he had to make a fast getaway. But these generators had been sitting cold for several days now, requiring at least fifteen minutes to wind up to full lift-off power.

Adam also didn’t know how many of the mods had been installed before the crew had been recalled. Focusing rings worked in tandem with a mirroring unit, so they only operated in pairs. If four had been installed, then he would have the power of traditional vessels. If six had been installed, then he’ be a little faster. But since the increase in ring power was geometric in nature, he wouldn’t achieve truly superior speed until he had all eight rings working together. Any odd number module would just be wasted until another could be brought online to form a pair.

He was on the bridge before he could use his ATD to determine the number of active rings. By then he simply slipped into the pilot’s seat and activated a screen. This is not good, he though, scanning the readouts. Five mods had been fully installed, with another two nearly complete. Little good that did; with energy modules, it was all or nothing.

Nurick entered the bridge and moved to the forward viewport.

“You coming or going?” Adam asked. “You have about thirty seconds to decide.

There were emergency vehicles screaming across the tarmac of the spaceport heading for the Pegasus, and pretty soon there would be ships overhead. “I believe I will—”

Nurick’s statement was cut short when suddenly two fiery rockets arched over the Pegasus, each trailing what appeared to be thick metal chains behind them. The links of thick iron, each easily a foot long, clanged loudly against the hull of the Pegasus with a nearly intolerable fingernails-on-chalkboard grating sound. Adam called up one of the exterior cameras and saw that the two long lengths of chain had landed about fifty yards to port where alien crews were already beginning to fasten the ends to heavy eye-bolts embedded in the surface of the spaceport, used more commonly to secure vessels against severe weather events. Now it looked to Adam that they were to be used to keep him on the surface.

Adam jumped up out the pilot’s seat and stared into Nurick’s face. “You with me or against me, you have no time to think about it.”

“They will simply blow the ship out of the air if you do manage to lift off.”

“Not a chance. They don’t want to destroy the ship, just us.”

“What are you going to do?”

“First of all, I have to get those chains untied.”

Just outside the bridge, Adam opened a tall metal cabinet door set into the bulkhead. Inside was an array of weaponry. He strapped a holster around his waist and inserted a Colt .45 Model 1911 into the carrier. Next he withdrew an FN SCAR CQC assault rifle with an FN-40 grenade launcher attached, and snapped in a 20-round magazine with a defiant click. Next he placed another four magazines into the pockets on the utility belt, along with six 40mm grenade cartridges.

 “What are these weapons?” Nurick asked. “They do not appear to be energy weapons.”

“Oh, they pack a lot of energy, just not the kind you’re used to. I need you to monitor the generators and to clear the space above us when they’re charged.”

“How do I do that?”

“With a gravity well.”

“While on the surface?”

“Yep. Just a light one, something to keep any craft from taking up a position above us.”

By then Adam was fully armed and ready for action. He moved to the side hatch. “Don’t try anything fancy, Nurick. As you know, I can control the ship from a distance. I can override anything you do against me.”

“Why do you not trust me?”

“Just lucky, I guess. Now, hold down the fort!”

Adam was out the door before Nurick could ask what ‘hold down the fort’ meant.

As with most civilized worlds in the universe, the gravity of Ralic-Sim was lighter than Adam was used too. In addition, he was able to take advantage of the seven months of increased gravity he’d suffered with aboard the Pegasus during his journey to the LMC. He had adjusted it upwards gradually until he was operating routinely on about twenty-five percent more than Earth standard. His muscles had grown accustomed to the heavier gravity, and now it felt as if an incredible weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He was fast, light-footed and full of nervous energy. Pity the poor alien who got in his way.

********

Unfortunately, there were plenty.

As he exited the Pegasus, a squad of ten clansmons of various species poured out the back of a military-style personnel transport and lifted their flash weapons in his direction. He sent a burst from the SCAR in their direction with catastrophic effects. First of all, the sound of automatic rifle fire was something the aliens had never heard before, so they were all stunned into a moment of inaction. By then, as their comrades around them began to disintegrate from multiple tiny explosions striking their bodies, they were at a loss as to what was happening. Unlike flash weapons which left a trail of light behind them, the bullets from the SCAR came so swiftly that they were invisible to the eye. All they knew was that the barrel end of the rifle Adam carried was flashing at them with a deafening sound, and then bodies were exploding.

Soon the first ten aliens were dead and Adam was sprinting toward where others were fastening the chains to the eye-bolts. Adam let loose with another burst of rifle fire as he ran, shredding five or six more aliens in the process. He snapped in another magazine as he ran.

Just then the concrete below his feet began to bubble up, as streaks of powerful energy slammed into the surface. One of the strikes sent a concussion of flame and surface material erupting upwards, sending Adam flying into the air. He was six feet up when he next pulled the trigger on the SCAR, targeting the group of aliens at the second eye-bolt.

What happened next, he should have expected. The recoil from the rifle sent him careening through the air in the opposite direction from his line of fire, and he struck hard against the side of another military vehicle, this one also manned by upwards of ten aliens.

He was stunned by the impact, and also by the various blows to his head coming from the assembled aliens around him. They were using the blunt, plastic end of their flash weapons, some of which were breaking apart from the impact.

Regaining his senses, Adam swept the stock end of his rifle out in front of him, sending the blunt metal into the heads and chests of several creatures. The metal of his weapon had a much more substantial effect on his opponents than did their plastic counterparts had on him.

Still more aliens piled on and he fell to the ground under their weight. But now, with his back on the ground, he had leverage. He kicked out with both his legs, sending a grey-skinned alien flying high into the air. Next he grabbed another by the front of his tunic and pulled him down hard, crashing the thin-boned skull into the hard concrete surface. He followed this up with a few well-placed fist strikes, and before he knew it, this second batch of aliens was strewn about him, dead, unconscious or crying out in pain.

He jumped to his feet and literally hopped to where the chains met the eye-bolts. What aliens he hadn’t killed in the area were now running off for safety, yet still flash bolts were striking around him.

He swung the rifle around to his back by its strap, freeing his hands so he could remove the ten-inch thick rod that now securing the first chain to the tie-bolt. The nut twisted off the end of the bolt with ease, and then the chain was free.

He ran to the next eye-bolt.

More aliens had just arrived in two armored vehicles; Adam switched to grenade mode and sent a 40mm canister into the nearest APC. The explosion lit up the spaceport. When he took aim at the second transport, he saw that the vehicle had come to stop and was now bleeding occupants, all running for safety. He sent the grenade into the vehicle anyway. Adam then sent another deadly barrage of hot, 7.62X51mm NATO rounds into a half dozen more aliens approaching from the right, giving him a moment of relative calm before more troops arrived.

Adam was now at the second eye-bolt. This one didn’t have the nut on the bolt yet, so it was just a matter of slipping the long metal rod from the two eyes. The chains were free, but now he had to return to the Pegasus and hope no one else fastened them before he could lift off.

Then he got an idea. He fingered the FN-40 grenade launcher and sent two perfectly-placed cartridges into the two embedded tie-bolts. One was sheared off at the surface, while the second was twisted, yet still with a secure ring. One last grenade did the job, and now even if they had the time, the aliens wouldn’t have anything to fasten the chains to.

Adam sprinted back to the Pegasus, dodging flash bolts as he went. Fortunately, as with most aliens, they didn’t understand the concept of leading the target, so with his blazing speed, most of the bolts fell behind him.

But then about twenty feet from the Pegasus his luck ran out. A bolt grazed his right shoulder, burning through his shirt and sending him twisting to his left. These weren’t ordinary flash bolts from hand weapons; instead, they were from cannon and carried a much heftier punch. Normally, a Human could take a Level-Two bolt and survive with not much more than a nasty burn and a bad attitude. But now Adam was writhing on the ground, the pain in his side nearly unbearable.

Adam gritted his teeth after letting loose with a loud primal scream. The scream produced a surge of adrenalin which helped to ease the pain somewhat, yet when he attempted to get to his feet, he found that his whole right side was numb. His vision was blurred, as well, and he could feel the first traces of shock coming over him. He’d been trained to recognize the signs, and now all that training did was cause him to panic even more. If he passed out now, that would be it. Adam Cain would die a lonely, horrible death on this far distant planet, and the worst part, without completing his mission.

That thought—created through the haze of excruciating pain—sent a surge of energy into his body. Adam Cain was not the type to quit, not while he still had an ounce of willpower left.

Just then someone grabbed him by the left arm. Within his blurred vision, he saw a figure and he tried to lift the SCAR to get a shot. Yet the weapon was in his right hand, which, for all intents and purposes, was useless.

So this was it; they’re upon me—

“Help me!” a voice cried out near his left ear. “You are extremely heavy. Why are you so heavy?”

The voice was that of Nurick Nur. Adam managed to laugh as he struggled to get his legs under him. He pushed up with his left leg and was soon stumbling forward toward the open hatch to the Pegasus, Nurick at his side. He fell forward through the opening and tasted the dirty floor of the entrance. Through the pain, he heard the swish of the hatch being secured.

“Can you get to the pilot’s station?” Nurick’s disembodied voice asked.

“I don’t need to,” Adam answered, his face now twisted in an agonizing grimace. “Just give me a moment.”

He rolled over onto his back and did his best to concentrate. It felt as if his whole right side was on fire, but still he found the will to access his artificial telepathy device and link with the ship’s control computer. The blurry image before his eyes was soon replaced with that of the forward view camera. What he saw through his mind’s eye was a flood of even more aliens approaching, this time with heavier vehicles. At some point the Polimors would decide it best just to disable the ship rather than let it get away. Even a dead ship could reveal her secrets, or at least most of them. He had to get off the surface.

Every interstellar starship employs internal gravity wells to produce a livable environment for its crew; the larger ships could have several operating along the length of the vessel. The Pegasus wasn’t large enough to need more than one; however because of this fact, the well had to be created about fifty feet below the bottom of the ship in order to cover the entire length. With a mental command, Adam activated the ship’s internal gravity well.

Although he couldn’t see the full the effect of his action, he knew what had just happened. A perfectly round hole, one hundred feet deep, had suddenly appeared directly under the Pegasus. Since the gravity effect on the ship was at the edge of the well’s influence fifty feet up, the well formed a complete sphere of gravity around the microscopic singularity that was created, hence the hundred foot hole.

Several of the nearby ground units were sucked into the well when it established, and the residual effects, reaching out to a thousand yards or more, were hard to ignore. Even at that distance, all objects within the well’s sphere of influence were being slowly drawn in, some faster than others. Hysteria broke out among the natives and other various alien species comprising the Polimor Clan and there was a headlong rush to get as far away from the alien spacecraft as possible.

Just then, Adam heard a powerful explosion above the Pegasus, one that shook the ground like a magnitude nine earthquake. He shifted his mind’s view to an external camera aimed above the Pegasus and only had a moment to view a huge yellow fireball, just before it suddenly winked out as it was drawn into a single tiny point in the sky. Adam knew what had happened here, too. A spaceship had wandered into Nurick’s weak gravity well above the Pegasus, and had paid the ultimate price for doing so.

The distraction caused by his mind’s link with the ship’s computer helped Adam to endure the pain racking his body. But now it was time to get moving.

He strengthened the well above the Pegasus and felt the ship lift off the surface. In as little as two minutes, he and Nurick could be well above the clouds and heading for open space. Yet Adam Cain wasn’t done with the planet Ralic-Sim. The Polimors would send other ships after them, so it was always best to leave a little damage in his wake….

So he transferred the focus of two of his four active focusing rings forward of the ship and aimed down slightly. Next he sent the Pegasus spiraling around the spaceport, which was home to the Polimor Clan’s largest security fleet—or at least it was for the moment.

With each pass around the spaceport, more and more Clan ships were ripped apart by the gravity well, with most of the debris disappearing into the series of invisible microscopic black holes being created at the focus of his rings. In addition, whole sections of the concrete surface of the spaceport were being churned up, creating deadly projectiles—some several tons in weight—that now rained back down on the surrounding area.

The Pegasus continued to gain altitude, carrying with it a tornado of broken starships, chunks of concrete and entire transport vehicles—along with hundreds of alien bodies. At about three miles off the surface, Adam abruptly dissolved the well momentarily sending a deluge of debris crashing down on the city below. From various camera angles on the Pegasus, Adam could see massive explosions erupting all around the now stripped and naked spaceport and extending to the surrounding city, with fires breaking out everywhere.

Suddenly, the ship was rocked by a major concussion emanating from the surface, and once the flare cleared from the camera, Adam saw what looked to be a small nuclear mushroom cloud rising up from the surface. The cloud was located to his right, about five miles on the other side of the spaceport. The explosion wasn’t large, but it was nuclear in nature. Some of the debris from Adam’s tornado must have hit a generating station of some kind, and now, as the Pegasus picked up speed, climbing higher toward space, Adam could see that nearly the entire city below was ablaze. Whatever had been ignited, the effect of the explosion on the city was apocalyptic.

Damn, I’m just trying to get away, he thought. I had no intention of destroying an entire city in the process.

With the image in his mind slowly fading away, the pain his body was experiencing began to overwhelm his consciousness once more. His last command before passing out was to engage a deep well and to steer the Pegasus out of the Ralic-Sim stellar system and toward the heart of the Cloud. He locked the controls, as well, just in case Nurick got any bright ideas about changing course.

And then he let the darkness take over, and with it, the only true relief to the pain he felt. Whether he’d ever wake up again, well, that was a matter for debate.

Chapter 12

When consciousness did return, Adam Cain wasn’t sure if he wanted to embrace it. His memories were intact, so before he opened his eyes, he ran through a myriad of scenarios concerning his present situation. They weren’t very pretty or encouraging.

Was he still aboard the Pegasus, or was he locked away in an alien prison somewhere, just waiting until he woke up before being put to death? Or had Nurick decided to nurse him back to health just so he could become a gourmet meal for him and his brood? After all, the Karliseans/Josls were very Human-like—if only smaller—and the Vicoreans considered them a delicacy.

The fact that he wasn’t in much pain was a consolation, making the decision to finally open his eyes an easy one. Still, he had doubts about what he’d find when he did so.

Much to his relief, Adam recognized the ceiling of his stateroom aboard the Pegasus, and with it the comforting hum of the ship’s omnipresent gravity generators. He could sense the bandages wrapping his right side and the soft warmth of a velour blanket covering him. Someone had done a decent job of caring for him. Now all he had to do was figure out why?

The stateroom was bathed in a dim light from a single, low-watt source near the head, so his eyes were spared any harsh, painful brilliance after all the time they’d been closed—which for the record, was how long?

Soon curiosity overcame the desire to lie there in the warm bed and drift back off to sleep. So with painful effort, Adam Cain rolled over onto his left side and attempted to sit up.

The effort wasn’t too difficult; the bandages weren’t overly tight or restricting. He was also grateful for the alien medicine he had onboard. Like so much of their other technology, medical science of the Juireans and Formilians was light-years ahead of Earth’s, and had been easily adapted to Human physiology. If given the chance, he would heal at nearly three times the rate he would using only Human medicines.

He tested his legs and found he could stand, if somewhat unsteadily. The gravity aboard the Pegasus was also much lighter now, a fact which helped him navigate the short distance from his stateroom to the head.

He was naked except for the cloth bandages wrapping his torso—including his right shoulder. So after relieving himself, he struggled into a pair of grey sweatpants and a light button-up shirt, and then bare-footed, he made his way to the bridge.

In the dim light of the room—illuminated only by the main navigation screen and galaxy-light through the forward viewport—Adam found Nurick slumped over in the command seat, his head resting on his right hand, and asleep. Without disturbing him, Adam did a quick ATD scan of the ship’s systems, including a proximity search, and found everything to be nominal.

The chronometer on the display console showed the date—the Earth date—and from this Adam determined that he’d been asleep for four days. Next he used his ATD to access the navigation computer and assessed their location based on the sketchy star charts Kroekus had provided. He remembered setting a course for the main part of the LMC, so he was at a loss as to why they were now located this far to the left of his original plot, and skirting along the outer fringe of the galaxy?

Adam gently placed a hand on Nurick’s shoulder. The alien became instantly aware, shooting up out of the chair in a panic. “You are awake; you startled me!”

“Sorry about that,” Adam said with a smile. “And you looked so peaceful sleeping there.”

“I only slipped off for a moment. I assure you all systems are being monitored.”

“Relax, Nurick, I’m not mad. In fact, I want to thank you for doing such a great job of taking care of me.”

Adam saw the panic evaporate from Nurick’s face. “This may not be the appropriate time to say this, but I am expecting a sizeable reward for what I have done.”

Nurick took a seat at the comm station, relinquishing the larger and more comfortable command chair to Adam. “I have had much time to think while you have been recovering,” he continued, “and it is apparent that my life on Vicor is over. Even with the recordings you made, after the destruction of Balic-Mor, I feel there will be no accommodations afforded me. You are also fortunate that I am not particularly fond of my mate, and have come to welcome that part of my involuntary exile.”

Adam burst out laughing at the last part of Nurick’s speech, while thinking: Across thousands of light-years and billions of years of diverse evolution, some things remain constant among sentient beings!

“Don’t worry, Nurick,” he said aloud.“I’ll take care of you. My resources may be limited, but you’re welcome to all I can spare. And with the new supply of energy modules aboard, that frees up a lot of the gold I have for other purposes.”

Nurick nodded, even though concern still painted his smooth, pink face.

Adam pointed at the stars visible through the viewport. “I see we’re not on the course I set; what’s happened while I was under?”

Nurick shook his head. “Much has happened. To begin with, we are still being pursued, and your command computer has been changing course quite often to avoid the hostiles. That is why we have deviated from your original course. As more and more units have joined the chase, the course has shifted radically from the Gof Sector and more towards Krinus.”

“How many units are chasing us?”

“Over ninety at last count.”

“Ninety! Why so many?”

Nurick tapped the dark screen at the comm station. “I have been monitoring news reports concerning our departure from Ralic-Sim. It is being disclosed that both Solius Vix and Lord Dakken died as a result of the nuclear explosion in Balic-Mor. Over eighty percent of the city has been destroyed, with a death toll in the millions.”

“No shit?”

To his credit, Nurick had come to learn some of the most basic Human idioms. “No shit,” he confirmed. “And the reports also place the blame for the destruction fully on us—including me.”

“You know, I feel really bad about all the innocent people who died. It wasn’t my intention for that to happen.”

“Irrelevant at this point.”

Adam frowned. “I realize that, Nurick,” he said impatiently.“I was just letting you know that I feel remorse for what happened. You know, I’m not the despicable person some of the reviews make me out to be. You have to give me that.”

“Then you are truly a sensitive, caring being.” Alien sarcasm was thick in Nurick’s voice. “Even so, I sincerely hope you are not intending to make amends by surrendering. I have no such desire to follow that course of action, not anymore.”

Adam smiled. “Don’t worry, neither do I.” At least now he knew Nurick was on his side and content to ride out this adventure to the bitter end. “So when do we leave Polimor territory?” he asked.“I will eventually need to get back on track to Anicett.”

Nurick looked confused again. “I do not understand.”

“When will be beyond Polimor jurisdiction? I assume eventually we’re going to move beyond their space.”

“That will not happen,” Nurick stated. “You seem to misunderstand how the Clans interact. You assume that distinct sections of Tanic are occupied and controlled by only one Clan. This is not the case. I would compare them more to a union of highly competitive businesses all operating on a galactic scale. You can have several competitors all located on a single planet, or even a single street, as was the case of the power-mod channelers on Vicor.”

“So the Polimors can chase us all the way to Anicett?”

“Theoretically, if they so desire. And after the death of the elected leader, Dakken Mor, that may be the case. Even the Kiran Clan may offer assistance to bring us to justice.”

Adam stared out the viewport for a long moment before commenting. “Well, that complicates things. I had hoped to maintain a low profile while in the LMC—in Tanic.”

“From what little I have seen of you, I do not believe that to be in your nature. You appear to make an immediate and lasting impression everywhere you go.”

“That’s not always my fault, and seldom is it my intention.”

Nurick smiled. “Again, irrelevant. You are who you are, and now the people of Tanic will forever remember the name of Adam Cain.”

“Great,” Adam said sourly. “Just great.”

********

After wolfing down a meal on the mess deck—and fighting the urge to vomit afterwards—Adam sat with Nurick discussing their options.

“The only thing that’s going to save us is the speed of the Pegasus,” Adam said. “We have to get at least one of the partially-installed power-mods online. That job can be done from inside the ship now that the hard part of getting the mods in place is over. Another pair will make us about twenty-five percent faster than anything you have here. With all eight rings operating, we’ll be eight to ten times faster.”

Nurick found the revelation hard to believe. “That is incredible; so completing the installation should be a priority.”

“Exactly,” Adam agreed. “Right now we’re barely holding our own against the units chasing us. Eventually they’ll get the angle or box us in somewhere.” Adam patted his bandages. “Even though I’m feeling better now, I’m not sure how much I can help with the install.”

“Do not worry. I am quite proficient with the installation of the mods; my profession requires it. I will work the tubes to help bring all the units I can online before we run out of places to hide.”

“You da alien!” Adam said with a grin, and before Nurick could react, he continued. “It means you’re great, and I appreciate the effort. The closest units chasing us are only about a light-year behind, and I see we’re heading into a really huge nebula. I’ve had some experience with nebulas, and I know they can be very dangerous to navigate. Even from my galaxy this one is famous. We call it the Tarantula Nebula, after a really big spider on my planet.”

“That is an appropriate name then, and the Krinus Nebula, as we call it here, is the most-dangerous environment there is in Tanic. Several thousand years ago a truly massive supernova took place there. We will certainly have to slow our rate and be more cautious of uncharted hazards.”

“Seeing that it’s such a mess, it might also be a good place to lose the pursuit,” Adam offered. “Once they lose contact with us, we’ll be just one tiny starship out of an entire galaxy. We should be able to go unnoticed from that point on.”

“Do you Humans find that your eternal optimism often creates overconfidence and disappointment in the final result?”

“Always—that’s why we have it. Without optimism every mission would fail before it begins. There needs to be the promise of a better outcome to make the effort worthwhile.”

“Strange behavior; it is a miracle your race has survived as long as it has.”

“No argument there, my friend. Now, let’s get to work. Those power-mods won’t install themselves.”

Chapter 13

“I’m picking up some buffeting, Nurick,” Adam said over the comm line. “How much longer?”

“Ten minutes at the most,” said the voice through the intercom on the bridge.

“I’m having to back off on our speed, so the security units are closing.”

“If slowing our speed is done for safety reasons, how will having more speed available help us as we enter the Krinus Nebula?” Nurick asked.

“You’ll see. I just need another dedicated pair of focusing rings available. The four I have active already are for propulsion. Once you get the sixth unit online, I’ll have what I need to save our asses.”

“Asses?”

“Figure of speech, Nurick.”

“Of course it is. Now I must concentrate. I will let you know when the unit is active.”

Adam was already mentally connected to the ship’s sophisticated array of monitoring devices, so he would know when the unit came online probably even before Nurick. And it couldn’t come soon enough.

The abundance of stellar gas found within the huge Tarantula Nebula was increasing the chance of a gravity-well overload. If that happened, Adam would need to dissolve the well before it went critical. They would be dead in the water for at least thirty minutes at that point while the generators rebooted. By then the marauders would be all over them. So he slowed down, which only served to narrow the gap between the Pegasus and the dozen ships now within monitor range.

The nebula—by whatever name you called it—was one of the Polimors major mining fields, so Adam figured it was a sure bet they would have additional units in the region to call upon. At the moment, the pursuit was only on his six, yet at any time more could appear from just about any direction. However, the only direction they wouldn’t come from was the deadly nebula gas cloud itself.

“Let me clear out of the tube before energizing the mod…otherwise you are active,” Nurick’s voice reported.

This was going to be tight. The trailing units had not slowed their pursuit as much as Adam had his, so within a minute or two, the Pegasus would be within flash cannon range.

“Let me know when you’re clear.”

“Almost…okay, I am now beyond the field zone.”

Adam brought the sixth focusing ring online and paired it with the fifth. Instantly, a surge of energy potential was seen on the command screen. If they had been in open space, Adam could have easily bolted away from his pursuit, but that was not to be the case here, because filling the entire forward view of the Pegasus was a brilliant red, green and yellow cloud of roiling nebular gas. Increasing speed into that would just be inviting a well overload.

Yet that is exactly what Adam did.

He aimed the recently resurrected pair of focusing rings to a point just beyond the current propulsion well-depth and widened the aperture to about five miles across. The Pegasus shot into the hole in the cloud now created by the secondary gravity-well, allowing him to maintain his speed as they entered. As long as the density of the cloud remained about the same, they would be safe from an overload, as well as from the trailing Polimor Security units.

Adam began to relax as the screen before him filled with a white mass of contacts streaming past the Pegasus, all except for the narrow tunnel being bore into the massive gas cloud. If he could maintain this course, he would eventually break into clear space again, and metaphorically be on the other side of the river from the town posse, and with no place for them to cross.

Nurick came onto the bridge, and his mouth fell open as he looked out the viewport at the frenetic wall of gas sweeping past them on all sides. “Are you mad? You must slow down!”

“Relax, Nurick. I’m using the new ring pair to cut us a path through the cloud. We’re safe, and with the security ships far behind us.”

“That is not entirely true, Adam Cain,” said Nurick, pointing to the nav computer screen.

Adam leaned in closer to the screen, not believing what he saw. Just behind their location was a single bright contact, with another bringing up the rear.

“They’ve followed us into the cloud,” Adam said incredulously. “But the channel is only five miles across.” At that point, part of Adam felt a deep admiration for the piloting skills the Polimor crews, even though they still posed a risk to him and the Pegasus. So he set about making a series of wild sweeping course changes, designed to make the tunnel that much more difficult to navigate. At these speeds, a simple miscalculation would be all it would take—and boom!

It didn’t take more than thirty seconds of course-change strategy to produce results. The lead starship suddenly flared bright on his screen, and then winked out.

“There goes one,” Nurick announced. “The second ship is still following, yet it has reduced speed considerably.”

Adam was already thinking ahead. If this last Polimor ship did manage to follow them all the way through the cloud, then the Pegasus should have no problem taking on a single ship. But a space battle would take time and slow his getaway. Eventually, the rest of the Polimor ships would find a way around the cloud and come looking for them. Adam didn’t want to be anywhere in the vicinity when they did. And yet this last ship could report their location….

Adam noticed that the density of the cloud was growing less, more wispy and diffused. “We’re coming out of the cloud. Strap in, I’m going to have to double back to line up for an attack.”

They burst into clear space—and immediately Adam’s contact screen lit up with at least a dozen new contacts. And if that wasn’t bad enough, the space around the Pegasus was soon filled with the light blue streaks from several flash cannon. The forward diffusion shields were active, and managed to absorb the first few hits from the underrated Tanic plasma weapons, yet Adam knew eventually even weak cannon fire would be enough to overload the shields.

“They must have been waiting for us!” Nurick yelled from the nav station where he’d strapped in.

“Sneaky bastards!” Adam cried out.“This is what I get for playing on their home field. There’s another cloud to starboard. I’m going to try to get over there. Hold on!”

“They are still with us!” Nurick screamed.

A brilliant flash bolt zipped past the Pegasus on the starboard side, just scraping the diffusion shield. “I figured as much!”

Adam did a quick scan of his tac screen. There were now twelve Polimor marauders cluttering the space around them, four in the rear and two to starboard, with another six angling in from in front of him.

Gripping the steering column tighter, Adam steered the Pegasus down and toward one of the many gas bands of the massive nebula. This new cloud was about half-a-light-year away. If he could get to it he could plow through this one like he had the other and get lost in the contact noise. Adding the new focusing ring pair to the main array, the Pegasus surged ahead.

“Another one just came within weapon’s range—”

Nurick’s report was unnecessary, as another flash bolt impacted the rear diffusion shield. The main computer performed a nanosecond allocation of the ship’s limited energy resources and transferred power to the shield. The bolt was diffused, yet the ship lost speed, with a power drop of a full ten percent. This shouldn’t be happening, Adam thought. We must be leaking energy from somewhere.

Adam could tell he was fighting a losing battle. He could override the computer and go faster, yet with weaker shields. Or he could go slower and maintain stronger shields—which would allow more of the enemy ships to pull within range and send more bolts into the shields.

The arm of dense gas projecting from the nebula was directly in front of him. “Hurry, Adam Cain,” Nurick pleaded. “There is not much time.”

They were just now touching the outer fringes of the vast gas cloud, and the forward gravity-well began to grow as it sucked in more and more matter. Adam would wait as long as he could before transferring the third ring-pair to plow-duty once again, but this time he would make the channel only a mile wide. Let’s see them try to navigate through that!

The Pegasus entered the second gas cloud, and just like with the first, a few of the Polimor starships followed. Adam began the series of wild turns again and the trailing ships began to fall off quickly. Adam let out a sigh of relief, yet his relief was short-lived.

The problem with nebula gas clouds is that their makeup varies considerably. So when Adam suddenly hit a high density section, the well-intensity spiked almost off the charts. Both he and Nurick gasped as they saw the edges of the well begin to fray, the first signs of a well-disintegration. Adam knew his array system would seldom result in an explosion from an overload, yet the well could evaporate at any second. That would leave them dead in the water, with the operative word being dead.

Adam had no choice; he backed off on the well. Fortunately, the following ships were pretty far back by now, their captains having lost courage the deeper they dove into the ever-thickening cloud. This bought them some time, but not much—

Suddenly the space before them cleared up. The cloud had been dense, yet not very thick, and already he could see more enemy contacts closing on his position. The Polimors seemed to be everywhere.

Off to port Adam saw small yellow star, a young fiery product of the ample raw material within the nebula that made it such a fertile birthplace for new star creation. The region around it would be clear of the denser gasses, which would give Adam’s gravity-well time to reestablish. He steered in that direction.

As he entered the realm of the young star, the well did gain in intensity and stabilized. That was when Adam realized that large cavity in the cloud had been created by the star’s gravity, opening up the far edge of the star’s planetary disk to the clear space outside the nebula. And there, at the outer limits of his scanners, were eight new contacts, just waiting for him to emerge from the cloud.

It was obvious the Polimors knew this space much better than he. They knew where he was going and where they had to station their ships to catch him.

A quick check of his energy levels showed that the power required to keep the well established in the cloud had drained even more from the modules. Something had to give; either speed or shields. Either outcome would prove disastrous.

There was a third option.

Adam switched his forward screen from navigation to tactical. At the same time he began to divert energy from the rear shields to the weapons, charging the batteries.

“You cannot expect to fight this number of ships?” Nurick stammered. “You have not the energy to sustain speed, shields and weapons. It would be suicide. Surrender, Adam Cain, make an offer to let them have your ship and all its secrets. Maybe in return the Polimors will allow you—us—to live.”

“You said it yourself; after the mess we left on Ralic-Sim, I don’t think they’ll be in the mood to be generous. I’ll attack along their flanks and maybe take a few with me. After that it will depend on how anxious the Clan ships are for a fight to the death.”

“Since you are determined to follow this line of action, I will assist as much as I can. We may just get lucky.”

As they burst into the clear beyond the yellow star, Adam lined up on the nearest eight Polimor ships, favoring the right side of the line. He would do a head fake in that direction, and then at the last minute, whip to his left. He’d have a much better chance against two ships at a time rather than allowing all eight to bring their weapons to bear. And he couldn’t slow down, not with two more ships now to his rear.

The charge indicator on the weapons switched from yellow to green, and he flicked off the tops of the two control sticks he held, revealing the firing buttons for the flash cannon. The Pegasus did have a separate weapons station, yet Nurick wasn’t qualified to man it, and Adam wasn’t about to leave piloting to the Vicorean as he operated the weapons from there. He would have to pull double duty.

“Nurick, do your best to balance the power between the weapons, shields and engines. It won’t be easy, seeing that we don’t have a lot of energy left for any of them. I’m going to the left, so keep the shields on the right side of the ship as strong as possible.”

Adam heard Nurick sigh. “I will do my best, although I’m afraid it will not be enough.”

“Optimism, Nurick. Remember to always keep a positive attitude and everything will work out fine.”

“You are truly insane—”

Just then, Adam was suddenly blinded by a brilliant flash of light that flooded the bridge from outside the ship. Nurick squealed, as his rat-like eyes had even a harder time dealing with the intense light.

So is this what it’s like to stare directly into a bolt from a flash cannon? Adam thought. If so, then they had just taken a direct hit—and yet they still lived….

When his eyes cleared enough to make out images again, Adam saw that two of the ships in the line before him were no longer there. In a panic, he leaned forward, frantically searching his tac screen for the missing ships. Were they attempting to outflank him? Yet as he looked, all he could tell was that the two missing contacts were just that—missing.

Just then another brilliant flash of light filled the bridge, but this one further in the distance so not nearly as intense. What Adam saw outside the ship took his breath away. The light was a bolt from a flash cannon, yet one thicker and brighter than he’d ever seen before. In fact, there were two such streaks, each targeting a separate Polimor ship in the line. The aim was true, and even with their shields at full, the powerful bolts struck the hulls of the ships as if the shields didn't exist. But the most amazing thing was that the two ships didn’t explode; they simply disintegrated—vaporized almost—from the strongest flash bolts Adam had ever witnessed.

The remaining four ships in the line began to turn away, gravity-wells at max, and that was when Adam saw the massive contact appear on his screen. It came from the upper left side, and even though he knew it wasn’t as large as the white dot on his screen indicated, the sheer amount of energy emanating from the contact made it appear to be an object about half the size of Earth’s moon.

Two more flash trails shot out from the gigantic contact, and Adam was able to follow them to the two Polimor ships that had followed the Pegasus through the gas cloud. In a split second, the energy signatures of these two ships also disappeared from his screen.

The four other clan ships had entered deep wells and were well on their way to departing the area. Unfortunately for them, that was not to be allowed. The huge contact crossed Adam’s screen faster than anything he’d ever seen, easily overtaking the tracks of the enemy ships. Then thick, fuzzy white lines of energy drew out from the huge contact—like flashes from a static electricity globe—targeting all the enemy contacts in the region at once. And just like that, the space around the rogue nebula star was clear of Polimor contacts.

All that was left was the Pegasus…and the massive contact.

As he watched his screen, Adam saw the contact begin to double back and head his way.

“Adam, we must run!” Nurick cried out. “We cannot stand against that monster.”

“We can’t outrun it, either,” Adam said. “The Clan ships are destroyed, so whoever is in command of that behemoth must be on our side.”

“Or not on the side of Polimors; there is a big difference between our two versions.”

Nurick had a point, yet Adam was curious to learn the truth. He cut power to the weapons and engines, while keeping the rest of the ship’s systems active. He wasn’t dark, but he also wasn’t going anywhere.

********

Moments later, a large, dark void began to obscure the stars ahead of the Pegasus. Adam and Nurick looked out the forward viewport as the mighty starship closed on their position. What they saw outside contrasted sharply with what was on the tac screen. On the monitor there was a brilliant white dot, yet outside was a near-black spaceship coming within visible range. The skin of the ship had a dull finish, which refused to reflect the nearby stars and fiery colors of the nebula. The vessel was multi-level, beginning with an obvious bottom as the longest and widest level, and then tapering upwards through at least twenty different sections. To Adam, it looked like a stretched out pyramid.

He had seen ships of this configuration before, but nothing nearly as large. In fact, as he waited for what was to come next, he had the ship’s computer run a simulation comparing known starship sizes and configuration to this one. The results were shocking. The ship outside the Pegasus was equivalent to a Juirean Class-10 warship—if the Juireans built Class-10 warships. But they didn’t; the largest ever built had been a pair of Class-7’s.

Yet it wasn’t just the immense size of this ship that set it apart. Adam had witnessed the intensity of her flash cannon, which had been able to vaporize an average-size starship with a single shot and even through fully-charged shields. The technology behind such weapons would be a sea-change over existing systems. Add to that the fact that a craft this large could so nimbly outrun extremely fast and maneuverable marauders, and Adam knew he was looking at a whole new generation of starship design.

Adam wasn’t nervous; if they wanted him dead, he’d be dead already. Now he was curious. Was this friend or foe, which begged the question: Who knew him well enough in this galaxy to make such a determination? The only creature he knew intimately was Nigel McCarthy, and if he was in command of such a vessel, then Adam’s mission just became infinitely more difficult.

However, he was still alive, thanks in no small part to this gigantic starship.

Ship-to-ship comm crackled. “Pegasus, you will release all electronic shielding and engine fields and prepare to be maneuvered into the mid-port landing bay. Acknowledge.”

Well, they knew the name of his ship; that was a major clue in itself. He fingered the comm button. “Acknowledged and will comply. Who is in command of your ship? I would like to know who my host will be.”

“That is not my responsibility to discuss. Prepare to be grappled aboard.”

Adam felt a slight nudge, as lines of electromagnetic energy grabbed the Pegasus and began to pull her close to the huge ship. As they drew near—and within the half mile range of his ATD—Adam began to detect a myriad of familiar electronic signatures—this was definitely a ship from the Milky Way, using Formilian and Juirean technology. But just as he was about to begin a more detailed probe of the inner workings of the behemoth, a thin veil dropped over his awareness.

He’d never experienced anything like this before. It was different from what he sensed with Tanic-built processors. This was like an opaque screen had been placed between him and the processors; he could still detect electronic devices on the other side, yet he couldn’t see any detail and was therefore unable to gain control over any of them.

This was another clue. Whoever controlled the ship knew of his artificial telepathy device. Since Nigel McCarthy had a counterfeit ATD of his own, this was just one more check in McCarthy’s box. But where the hell did he get a ship like this? According to Kroekus, he had come to Tanic with three concentrated-array starships, each a little larger than the Pegasus and carrying a compliment of thirty or so other Humans.

This ship could carry five thousand or more.

“What are you going to do, Adam Cain?” Nurick asked. “Who are those aboard such an incredible ship? They apparently know you.”

“I have an idea, but we’ll know soon enough.”

“Have you counted the ring-ports?”

Adam hadn’t, too engrossed as he was in his own thoughts and curiosities.

“I see eight on this side alone; there must be matching ports on the other side.” Nurick said.

This got Adam’s attention. Sixteen focusing ring ports! It was now Adam’s turn to declare that to be impossible. Yet here was the proof right in front of him. Who was capable of such a technological feat?

Adam’s stomach suddenly tied up in knots. The Klin? Could the Klin be behind such revolutionary advancements in starship design and propulsion? It wouldn’t be the first time they had surprised him with their capabilities.

The dark hull of the giant ship was now sliding past as the magnetics guided the Pegasus toward a gaping opening with brilliant white light streaming out. The landing bay was just as huge as everything else on this side of the ship and Adam could see that there were matching doors to other bays both above and below the one they were now entering. And this was just the portside landing bays. Six bays in total, reminding Adam more an aircraft carrier than simply a very large battleship. So he wasn’t surprised to see the interior of the landing bay stocked with row upon row of small two-man fighters, along with a sizeable compliment of other ships, each about half the size of the Pegasus.

Within this one ship was an entire fleet of warships. And that was assuming there was only one ship like this under the command of—well, he would soon find out.

The Pegasus was released from the magnetics and a space-suited crew came with a tractor and placed the ship near the right wall of the cavernous chamber. The huge articulated doors to the bay were soon shut and atmosphere returned to the bay, as dozens of crew—representing several different species—flooded the vast room and set about resuming their duties.  Adam recognized most of the aliens, yet he saw no Humans among the mix.

Through the forward viewport, Adam and Nurick saw a small delegation of five crew approach the Pegasus. A quick check of the readings showed an acceptable atmosphere and pressure had been established in the bay, although Adam did take note of the reduced gravity of the huge ship. It hovered around eighty percent of Earth, according to his meter, so definitely not a Human ship.

He looked over at Nurick, whose small, beady rat-eyes were now larger than he’d ever seen them. “Might as well get this over with,” he said to the Vicorean. “But don’t volunteer any information.”

“About what?”

“About anything. Let them ask the questions, and then be short with your answers.”

“That will not seem to very cooperative. They may take offense to this line of conversation.”

“You would be surprised how much they already know. What I want them to do is tell us. That way I might be able to find a weakness in their knowledge and exploit it.”

“More optimism, Adam Cain, and even considering our present situation, you refuse to quit, even against such overwhelming odds? As I have said before, this seems to be a serious character flaw in your species.”

“It’s called being stubborn. Just do what I ask and we may get out of this alive.”

“I do not see how.”

“And that is what sets our species apart, Nurick. For Humans, it’s never over until the fat lady sings.”

Adam smiled at the look of absolute confusion that now crossed Nurick’s face. He knew it would; that was why he said it.

May as well start this new off adventure with a smile on my face.

Chapter 14

Adam undogged the hatch and slid it aside. The five aliens on the metal deck stepped forward. They each wore dark green uniforms, with armbands of various colors signifying rank. The alien with the red armband stepped forward.

He eyed Nurick with curiosity, and then referred to a datapad in his hand before turning his full attention to Adam. ‘You are Adam Cain.” It was a statement, not a question, and the officer seemed slightly startled by the revelation.

“That’s right, and I want to thank your commander for saving my life. So when do I have the pleasure of meeting him?”

“Soon, and who is this?”

“Nurick Nur, a power-module dealer from the planet Vicor.”

“What is he doing aboard your ship?”

“That’s a long story. Just say it was an accident and leave it at that.”

The officer lifted the datapad toward Nurick and took his picture.

“Follow me. Once the Vicorean has been scanned for biohazards, you will be taken to the command center. At that time all your questions will be answered.” He turned to two of the other crewmembers with him and nodded; they rushed past Adam and entered the Pegasus.

Adam jaw tightened. He had no idea what they would do aboard his ship, even though he suspected they would tap into his computer system—and more. And with the prevailing damper over the functioning of his ATD, he couldn’t disable the system like he had on Karlis. It would be open to all.

Thirty minutes later Nurick had been scanned and cleared of any contagious diseases or parasites, and after a series of elevator rides that seemed to go on forever, the pair was escorted into a large conference room with a wall-length viewport to the outside. The Krinus/Tarantula Nebula was on full display, with its vibrant colors casting a kaleidoscopic pattern throughout the room. Adam stepped up to the vast window, where he witnessed no fewer than ten of the small two-man fighters going through various flight exercises. These were combat maneuvers they were practicing, yet against what enemy Adam didn’t know? Not yet.

Adam stepped away from the window and surveyed the room. There was a large marble table dominating the center and lined with three distinct sizes of chairs. There were four truly massive ones, then some that could accommodate a seven-foot tall Juirean with ease, along with a dozen of Human size. The wall between the conference room and the interior of the ship was made of glass, so Adam could clearly see other members of the crew moving about, with none paying him or Nurick any attention.

At the far end of the room was a darkened area, a recess of some sort which Adam hadn’t noticed when he first entered—distracted as he had been by the view of the brilliant nebula. Now he focused his attention on the dark recess.

There seemed to be a flicker and then a movement coming from the darkness; something was in there. He tensed. Whatever it was it had been there from the moment they entered the room—silent, observing.

And now a figure step forward, out of the darkness and into the colorful glow from the Nebula.

Adam’s knees suddenly grew weak and he stumbled forward, resting both his hands on the table to maintain balance. Nurick noticed Adam’s reaction and followed his gaze to the figure now standing at the other end of the room, smiling.

“My friend Adam Cain, I assume from your reaction that I am the last person you expected to see.”

“That is an understatement,” Adam managed to say. His heart was in his feet, and an overwhelming feeling of despair flooded his senses. Adam pulled back one of the Human-size chairs and fell into it. “I suppose this whole emerging-from-the-darkness thing is your typical way of making a grand entrance. Well, I must say, you’ve made an impression.”

“I equate it more to a rebirth of sorts, a coming back to life after a certain death.”

Nurick’s curiosity was bubbling over. “Who is this creature, Adam Cain? You apparently know him.”

 “Unfortunately, I do,” Adam said. And then he feigned a smile. “Nurick Nur, let me introduce you to the former supreme leader of the Milky Way—I mean the Silean—Galaxy, none other than the honorable Kroekus of Silea. You may not be familiar with the name, yet nearly every living creature in my galaxy knows it intimately. I must say, Kroekus, you’re looking absolutely svelte these days.”

The smile did not leave the Silean’s face. “Four months on a crash Juirean diet will do wonders for a person’s weight, even though for a Silean, this is not the most-desirable of outcomes. I assure you, I am working on getting my weight back up. My females demand it.”

Adam’s initial shock had subsided, replaced now with a sick resignation. He leaned back in the chair and propped his left leg up on the chair next to him. “Take a seat, Nurick. My old friend Kroekus obviously has one hell of a story to tell. You may as well get comfortable.”

Kroekus laughed. “You know me all too well, Adam. Refreshments!” the Silean announced to the room. A moment later, four attendants entered with plates of food—Human, Silean and even Vicorean—along with drink and even a selection of sweet desserts.

Kroekus joined them at the table, and without preamble, began to devour his food. Adam was hungry, too, and therefore saw no reason not to enjoy a last lavish meal on Kroekus’s dime. Once the other two aliens in the room were happily munching away, Nurick relaxed enough to do the same. It was a full five minutes before Adam spoke again.

“So the Juireans couldn’t hold you,” he said matter-of-factly. “However, that doesn’t explain this ship.”

“They did keep me for four months, and for that I have you to thank. I must say, however, it was a great test of my personal courage and willpower. During my stay, I managed to impress even myself.”

“You’re welcome,” Adam said with a smile.

“It would have been more impressive if my ordeal had been voluntary, yet we both know that was not the case.”

“Please forgive me, but I am at a loss as to the context of this conversation.”

Kroekus glared at the Vicorean. “Is this your new Kaylor? I suppose everyone needs a pet.”

“I am no one’s pet!”

Adam silenced Nurick with a firm shake of his head. “Chill out, Nurick; Kroekus is not someone you want to piss off.”

“Chill…piss, I do not understand?”

Kroekus smiled at Nurick. “Are they not entertaining—the Humans? They have such a wonderful way of expressing themselves. I find it particularly entertaining observing the reaction of others to what they say and how they say it.”

“I still do not understand—”

The smile vanished suddenly from the Silean’s face as his eyes bore into Nurick. “That is because you are not privy to such that Adam and I have shared—”

 “I turned him over to the Juireans,” Adam interrupted. “The Juireans are the main race in the Silean Galaxy, and my old friend here committed crimes not only against them, but against my race as well. As a result, he spent a little time as a guest of the Juirean prison system—much less time than any of us expected, I might add. So now you’re free and here in the Cloud, Kroekus. How did that happen?”

The smile returned to Kroekus’s round face. “One does not reach my level of power and wealth without having allies spread across the galaxy. And since my wealth was once beyond compare—and still is—there is nothing that cannot be bought, even freedom from a Juirean prison.”

Adam knocked on the top of the marble table. “And this?”

“The greatest starship ever built—and for the most credits, I might add. No expense was spared in its design and construction. It costs more than the gross economic output of several industrialized planets. Only I have the resources for such a construct, and as you have seen, this single ship is a fleet unto itself.”

“And how did you manage to find me out of this entire galaxy? I can’t believe it was pure luck.”

“You seem to forget, Adam, it was I who built the Pegasus. I have always known where you are. There are at least four tracers aboard, devices hidden even from your telepathy device. You see, there is nothing in this galaxy—or the other—that I do not control.”

Adam frowned. He was working the timeline out in his head and the numbers weren’t adding up. “You were with the Juireans for two months before I left for the Cloud, and you say you spent four months in their jail….”

“It took only four months to make the journey here, if that is your question.”

Adam’s jaw fell open, as did Nurick’s.

“That is what a concentrated-array of sixteen focusing rings will do for a ship. Nothing comes close to the speed of this vessel, nor the firepower she carries.”

“And now you’re here to join forces with your partner-in-crime, Nigel McCarthy—”

Kroekus’s bellowing laugh—one that often made Adam believe the huge Silean was choking to death—now filled the room. “My friend Adam Cain, McCarthy is a Human, just like you. I therefore trust him as far as I could throw him, to use one of your more graphic Human phrases. He has served his purpose in the past, and I am using him even now to soften up my newest conquest, even though he does not realize that is his role. But partners: never. Now I long to witness his expression when I appear before him.”

“He doesn’t know you’re here?”

“He still believes me to be locked away in a Juirean prison. My spies also confirm that he is still under the mistaken belief that he has this entire galaxy to himself.”

Adam couldn’t keep from smiling. He knew his days were numbered, but it was reassuring to know that so were Nigel McCarthy’s. “I know it may be too much to ask,” Adam began, “but is there any chance I could stick around long enough to see your reunion with Nigel.”

Kroekus skewed his face. “That I had not considered; however, it would be a delight to the senses. Two mortal enemies—warriors both—facing their ultimate demise at my hand. The surprise of seeing me would be shock enough. Yet for Nigel to see you with me, well that would be priceless. You have yourself a deal, Adam Cain.”

But then the huge Silean leaned forward and his expression turned to stone. “I must warn you, Adam Cain: Do not to try any of your Human super-being antics on me. You are buried deep within my realm now. Every creature aboard this ship owes his or her considerable fortune to me, as I also support their families across two galaxies. You will find no allies here.”

“I came here to put an end to Nigel McCarthy—one way or another— even if I didn’t survive the mission.”

Kroekus’s face lit up. “Ah, then that gives me another idea: A death match, one between you and Nigel. That would bring me such pleasure, and for my crew, as well.”

“And the winner goes free?”

“Regrettably, my friend, you ask too much. All I can offer is a moment of reverie for the victor to savor the moment. After that, it will be my delight to terminate—by my own hands—the life of the survivor.”

“Fair enough, Kroekus,” said Adam with a smile. “Just give me a chance and I promise I'll put on one hell of a show.”

Chapter 15

Once the pair had been fitted with combination tracing and electro-shock devices around their ankles, they were set up in separate staterooms adjacent to one another and allowed to roam the ship with very few restrictions. Kroekus’s massive vessel already had its own security protocols in place, with only certain personnel allowed within the engine and weapons compartments. Leaving Nurick to his own devices, Adam explored the ship, finding these restricted sections and testing their security.

It was obvious by the amused reaction of the alien guards he approached that they had been fully briefed, not only Adam’s status aboard the ship, but also his abilities. The guards drew weapons, conspicuously set at Level-One, and instructed him to remain at the far end of the corridor otherwise they had permission to open fire.

Adam saluted the guards and moved off, content now to find one of the numerous mess decks the craft offered. He was hoping they had a self-serve processing station, since the formula for dark ale was something he’d made a point of memorizing. In light of his current situation, there wasn’t much to keep from indulging once more.

With Kroekus offering a final solution to the Nigel McCarthy mission, Adam was left with nothing to do but wait. Having the chance to end McCarthy’s like by his own hand was something Adam found exciting. It’s what came afterwards that Adam found to be a little problematic.

And then he had Kroekus to consider, as well. The reason Adam’s mission didn’t include a reckoning with the Silean was that he had already been taken care of—or at least that had been his impression. But now, if he wanted complete closure, he would have to deal with both McCarthy and Kroekus.

As Adam waited for the computer to process the formula he’d entered for the beer, he reached down and rubbed the security anklet he wore. He once had a similar device attached many, many years ago, at a time when his friend Riyad Tarazi was not a friend, but rather a foe. He’d been able to cut through the strap back then.

With the tart taste of the ale sliding down his throat, Adam wondered what he would do if he were free of the device? He was aboard a massive starship controlled by his adversary and crewed by as many as five thousand loyalists. The ship’s security set-up was top-notch and professional, and Kroekus—probably more than anyone else in this galaxy—understood the Humans’ inherent advantages over other aliens. He would not let Adam get too far out of line before reining back him in.

The one consolation he had was that Kroekus wouldn’t do anything bad to him until he had Nigel, so Adam had time to gain intelligence, weigh his options and devise a plan.

But at that moment, as he rested in a soft chair in a very nice lounge area, Adam wondered if he could truly work on devising such a serious and complex plan of action—and with all the pressure associated with it—while sober? He reasoned a little lessening of tension would work wonders in allowing the ideas to flow freely. So another beer was called for, with another for insurance.

Before long, Adam Cain, super-Human, was sound asleep in the chair and snoring loudly, while a menagerie of aliens walked past him with looks ranging from curiosity to disgust. They’d been ordered to have no interaction with the Human, a species many aboard recognized as one of the big-four races within the Expansion. The order would be obeyed, so Adam slept, even as a smallish, bear-like creature came and placed a light blanket on him to keep him warm.

********

Several hours later, Adam Cain left the lounge area and returned to his stateroom for a wake-up shower. While in the shower, attendants entered his room and confiscated his clothing, leaving only a bright orange tunic for him to wear. As he recalled, no other creature aboard the ship wore such an outfit, so this was Kroekus' way of announcing to the crew, ‘Here’s the bad guy.’

A summons came for him a few moments later for him to meet with Kroekus in his private chambers. Adam welcomed the opportunity, knowing full well that the inflated ego of the alien wouldn’t let him remain mute on his plans for very long.

Adam needed more information so he could work on a plan of his own. The last seven hours had been a bust; the alcohol hadn’t served its intended purpose of opening the spigots to his creative mind; it never did. However, it did allowed him to sleep, a deep, healing sleep that would now have him meeting Kroekus with a refreshed mind and body—a body that nearly healed now from the ravages of his time spent on Ralic-Sim. Dealing with the alien one-on-one was always a challenge, since there was no denying his intelligence and abilities. Adam would have to be on his game. It was even money that Kroekus would be.

Kroekus of Silea had always been a study in contrasts. Born into wealth and power, he had gone on to acquire even more of both on a scale never before seen in the galaxy. First he took advantage of the fall of the Juirean Expansion to create his own currency, backed by the largest supply of gold in history. Next he wrangled his way into becoming the day-to-day administrator of the Expansion under Human rule, since the neophyte aliens had very little experience running a galaxy-wide empire.

Yet his true power came when the Humans abdicated their rule of the Expansion and returned to Earth and the Far Arm to carve out their own mini-Expansion a little closer to home. Kroekus assumed full control of the Expansion at that time, becoming the only creature other than a Juirean to ever hold that position at a dictatorial level. Even though his official title was that of Administrator, everyone knew he owned the Expansion, lock, stock and barrel.

For a period of five years, Kroekus of Silea was the absolute ruler of the galaxy—right up to the time Adam Cain took him by the throat and turned him over to the Juireans to answer for high crimes and not-so-misdemeanors against the other races of the Expansion.

Yet throughout it all, Kroekus never flaunted his wealth or power. Instead he lived modestly and approached his job as Emperor in a workmanlike manner. Wealth and power were nothing new to him; he was simply a collector of both.

And so it came as no surprise when Adam found the private chambers of the former ruler of a galaxy to be not much larger than the stateroom he’d been assigned, or that the appointments were basic and functional.

Kroekus smiled and considered Adam for a long moment as he entered. “Orange is your color, Adam. It brings out the depth in your blue eyes.”

“According to what the rest of your crew is wearing these days, it’s either ahead of its time or behind, I don’t know which.”

“Once our brief interlude is completed, I’m sure it will be all the rage—in vogue as you call it. But for now, only you and your pet will be sporting the fashion this season.”

Adam smiled. “You sure are an expert on Humans and our ways, aren’t you?”

“It pays to know one’s enemy, even better than they know themselves. Take a seat, relax. You and I—more than any two beings aboard—have a history together, one that stretches over many years. I feel as if we are family of sorts.”

“Well then, bro, how about not killing me at the end of all this?”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you turned me over to the Juireans.”

Adam sat down in an over-sized chair across from the suffering couch where Kroekus now sat. Even though the alien had lost a lot of weight in the Juirean prison, he still weighed over four hundred pounds. Adam still had to smile from the memory of when he learned that Silean males grew to such proportion because, with their increase in weight, also came an increase in the size of their sex organ. It was one of the things about Sileans Adam truly envied.

He shook his head to clear it of the thought. “So why did you side with the damn Kracori in the first place, Kroekus? They would have replaced you as head of the Expansion, too, if they’d gained control.”

There was that billowing alien laugh again. “I did not side with them. As a matter of fact, I didn’t side with anyone. All the combatants in the Dysion Void were supposed to lose. The forces were in such parity that a mutual destruction was guaranteed. None of you were supposed to emerge intact. That would have left me alone at the top and with no superpower nipping at my ankles.”

“Well, as they say, the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry.”

Kroekus laughed again. “That is one I will have to remember! And it is so true. And seeing that your new companion resembles a gargantuan Earth mouse, I would say that is very appropriate.”

Adam was through with the friendly banter. “So what’s your next move, Kroekus? Are we meeting up with Nigel pretty soon, or what?”

The expression on the fat face changed abruptly. “Unfortunately, that is not to be the case. With the news I have just recently received, my journey to Anicett will have to be delayed.” The alien’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Adam and he shook his head slightly. “And, of course, I have you to thank for this.”

Adam was truly at a loss as to what he meant. What could Adam have done to upset his plans?

“I don’t get it? What have I done—”

“Ralic-Sim, or have you already forgotten?”

“What does that have to do with you?”

There was a bowl of cooked meat sitting on the table in front of Kroekus; he leaned forward and picked out a large piece before placing it whole in his mouth. Seeing Adam watch him, he said, “I have a lot of weight to regain, thanks to you. You are welcome to some yourself. It’s jeclen, quite good, and similar to beef on your world.”

“I’ll pass. As you were saying….”

Kroekus inhaled another large piece of the brown meat before continuing. “You, as a military professional, must know that even a ship of this size and power cannot conquer a galaxy on its own. Even though there is a second vessel soon to arrive, I still need a much larger force in order to subdue resistance and to exert control over a vast expanse. For that I enlisted the help of the Polimor Lord, a compliant being named Dakken Mor.”

Adam grimaced, knowing now where the conversation was leading.

“That’s right,” Kroekus said. “The same Dakken Mor who died as you were making your escape from Balic-Mor—a city, by the way, named after him.”

“Sorry about that,” Adam said. “I really didn’t intend to destroy a whole city.”

“That’s not what’s important. What does matter is that Dakken had not let many of his subordinates in on our little secret. He was building a fleet of warships, the first fleet of its kind in Tanic, which we were to use against the other Clans. Now his officers are taking it upon themselves to gain control of this secret fleet for their own purposes. None know who I am or that it was I who financed most of the cost of building the fleet. That was information Dakken kept to himself for fear that knowledge of outside help and influence could weaken his political position within the Clan.”

“Damn, that does sound like a mess.”

“It is, and now I have to find a way of educating these rogue officers as to who really owns their fleet. And I am operating under a strict deadline for doing this, again thanks to you.”

“Me? C’mon Kroekus, you can’t blame me for everything!”

The Silean nodded. “You are correct. For this I am partially responsible.”

“Good,” said Adam. And then he frowned. “Why?”

“Because it was my scientists who invented the concentrated-array gravity-drive, and it was I who gave this technology to you in the form of your two Crusader vessels—what were their names, the Pegasus and the Phoenix? Such a quaint practice of naming your starships. And then you went and introduced the CA drive to your Human counterparts, and now there’s a wholesale stampede to build more and more ships with such technology.  With the ability of the CA drive to shrink the size of our galaxy, others will soon turn their sights on the Cloud—on Tanic—and then the invasion will begin. I must be in a position of absolute control by that time. Yet now, with the dissolution of my budding fleet, I have lost precious time.”

Kroekus smiled at Adam, even though there was no humor in his eyes. “And once again, you played a prominent role in upsetting my plans—in making them go awry, as you said earlier.”

“This one is called the law of unintended consequences,” Adam said with a wry smile.

“Enough with your cute Human colloquialisms!” The Silean’s face was beginning to glow red—which from experience—Adam knew to be a harbinger of bad things to come. “Because of all this, I will now be moving my ship further into Polimor space and contacting various individuals in an attempt to regain control of my fleet. As an unintended consequence, I may be obligated to turn you over to them to answer for Dakken’s death. That is something I would find very disturbing.”

“Yeah…me too.”

Kroekus glared at Adam. “All of this is wasting precious time and upsetting my plans. But I called you in here to make you an offer.”

Adam raised his eyebrows.

“I have been thinking more of this death-match between you and Nigel, and I would like nothing more than to make that happen. Losing you to the Polimors would take that away from me.”

When Kroekus stopping talking and remained silence for several moments, Adam leaned forward in his chair and offered his open palms to the alien. “And…what do you have in mind?”

“Help me,” Kroekus answered.

“Help you with what?”

“Anything…and everything. Even though you have been an on-going problem for me over the years, I have come to respect your abilities, as well as your uncanny luck. It should not matter to you whether or not I conquer this galaxy. Your stated objective is the death of Nigel McCarthy. I am giving you the opportunity to achieve that goal.”

“Just so I can be killed afterwards.”

“That is the compromise I’m offering.”

Adam sat back in the chair, stunned. “Go on.”

“As my lieutenant, you could be very instrumental in helping me secure this galaxy. And then, as we acquire your nemesis, I will allow you the opportunity to kill him, in combat, which I assume would be very gratifying having observed Humans for some time now. I cannot guarantee your victory—that I will leave up to you. However, as you requested yesterday, if you should be the victor, I will allow you to go free.” And then Kroekus leaned forward on the couch, “Under one condition: You return to the Milky Way galaxy and never again journey to Tanic.”

“And what if I don’t win; I know, however slight a chance that may be?”

“Your overconfidence could spell your demise, Adam. Yet if by chance or bad luck Nigel happens to come out the victor, then I will put him to death immediately.”

Adam’s grin stretched from ear to ear. ‘How can I say no to that? You’ve got yourself a deal!”

Kroekus leaned back on the couch and returned a wry grin of his own. “Don’t be so overjoyed, Adam. There is one other detail I want to share with you.”

Again Adam raised his eyebrows.

“In order to get Nigel to fight with all his skill and effort, I will offer him the same chance at freedom for defeating you—”

“But you just said—”

“Yes, I will still kill him; however that will be our little secret. I do this to assure a truthful contest between the two of you. And now that you know all the terms of my offer, do you still accept?”

“I have a condition of my own.”

Kroekus frowned. “And what is that?”

“That I change out of this silly-looking orange outfit. This is what convicts wear on Earth.”

Chapter 16

When Adam called on Nurick, he found the alien hunched up on the bed in his stateroom, dressed in the orange tunic and massaging his slender ankle around where the tracking device was attached. Barely acknowledging his presence, the Vicorean then leaned back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling.

“Why so glum, chum?” Adam asked, trying to lighten the mood. It might have worked on a Human, but all it did for Nurick was make his head shudder again.

Adam set the package he’d brought on the small table in the stateroom. “This is for you. It’s a more traditional uniform other than that orange abomination.”

“I happen to like the color, and it also helps differentiate me from the rest of these pirates.”

“That’s the whole idea. But seriously, put this on. It will allow you to move around the ship without everyone staring at you.”

“I will not be doing much moving around, seeing that my situation has simply changed from being your prisoner to that of your past colleague.”

Adam took the package and tossed it onto Nurick’s chest. He barely reacted. “Well, things have changed. We’re no longer prisoners, but members of the crew. And I have a job for you.”

“I do not recall voluntarily joining any crew.” Nurick sat up on the bed and looked at the package. “What job is this, and how is it that you can make assignments? I believe you are scheduled for termination sometime in the near future.”

“Like I said, things have changed. I’m now the second-in-command of this fleet, and as such I have considerable clout.”

Nurick now stared at him, his mouth slightly open.

“Pretty cool, huh? And I still get to fight Nigel McCarthy when the time comes. But if I win, I get to go free.”

“That is not what your large friend said. Yet if that is what he tells you now, how do you know you can trust him?”

“I can’t, but at least this way I’ll have more freedom and resources available to make sure things work out as promised.”

“I am happy for you Adam Cain. As always, I am sure you will survive this ordeal just fine.” He didn’t need to finish his unspoken thought.

“Cheer up, buddy,” Adam said. “Kroekus has the resources to make you one of the wealthiest creatures in Tanic. And if he succeeds with his plans, you could parlay all this into a pretty nice position as one of his top advisors. No one on Vicor will dare come after you if that happens.”

Nurick shook his head. “A lot has transpired since I last saw you. I suppose I have no choice but to trust you. Yet until I see evidence of any real change, I will still consider myself a prisoner. And what of this device?” he asked, rubbing the ankle bracelet. “I assume this can now be removed.”

“Sadly, no, not until I earn Kroekus’s trust.”

“So we are still prisoners.”

“Dude, snap out of it! Get your ass into those new clothes and join me on the mid-portside hangar deck. You have the installation of hybrid power-mods to supervise.”

“Now I am confused.”

“Kroekus has several hundred special high-energy modules aboard—mods made in the Milky Way—Silea—by the way, so I know they’ll be compatible. I can have as many as I need. And with these units installed, I’ll be able to boost well-depth of the Pegasus by another fifty percent. With these things installed, the Pegasus will now over ten times faster. And it also means that when the time comes, I’ll be able to get home in only four months.”

Nurick’s eyes were now wide, with a look bordering on excitement, but not quite there yet. “Indeed, things have changed. Yet does this task you must help your friend with involve the subjugation of Tanic by creatures from Silea?”

Adam frowned. “That’s going to happen anyway, whether we help him or not. But this way you get an inside track to the new power structure in the galaxy. And it won’t hurt to be fabulously wealthy, too.”

“You would see to that for me?” Nurick asked. “I was under the impression you were upset with me over the original mod purchase.”

“I am, but right now I need an ally, and unfortunately you’re the closest thing I have to a friend onboard—at least one I can lift. Kroekus needs me, and I need him. After that, all bets are off. Let’s just work together now and we may both come out of this better than when we started.”

********

Word had spread quickly aboard Kroekus’s behemoth, and now as Adam and Nurick made their way to the where the Pegasus was stored, many in the crew either acknowledged Adam with a nod of their heads or an actual salute. It had been awhile since Adam enjoyed the privilege of rank and so he was a little out of practice with his crisp return salutes.

He would get Nurick working on the Pegasus, and then go find the new quarters being prepared for him. As he understood it, he wasn’t the new XO of the starship, but rather what was called the First Advisor to Kroekus. This placed him above even the captain of the ship, a job Kroekus had reserved for others. The huge Silean was a supervisor, not one of the worker bees; Adam didn’t even know if Kroekus knew how to pilot a starship. He’d never seen him do it.

His new quarters were near the gigantic bridge of the starship, so after checking out his new digs, he made a call to the ship’s captain.

He cringed from nostalgia when he found the creature was Rigorian named Grosel Vins. Rigorians were one of the main species inhabiting The Fringe Worlds, the frontier region of the old Juirean Expansion where Adam had first begun his adventures in outer space nearly twenty years ago. They were a belligerent race of warriors, three of which Adam had shot to death in an old-fashion quick-draw shoot-out within three days of waking up in a Klin hibernation chamber. That was a whole other chapter in the life of Adam Cain, and he was sure it was written down somewhere for those who were interested.

Needless to say, the captain knew of Adam Cain, if by reputation only.

“We travel nearly two hundred thousand light-years just to find you here.” The Rigorian may have heard of Adam; it didn’t mean he liked him.

“It is a small universe, isn’t it, Captain.” The lizard-like creatures were truly intimidating in appearance, with long mouths lined with pointed, inch-long teeth. Their skin was made of thick scales and the intense, yellow eyes seldom blinked.

“I was surprised when Kroekus informed me of your status change, yet I understand the two of you go back through many years.”

“All the way to The Fringe, which puts us both—you and me— a long way from home.”

The Rigorian did not comment on Adam’s statement. Instead he turned impatient. “What is it you want, Adam Cain? I will obey, seeing that I have been given no choice.”

Adam grinned, making sure not to bare his teeth at the Rigorian; that was how he got in trouble with them the first time!“A simple request, Captain Vins. As a Human, I’m used to our ships having names. It’s easier to identify them among others—”

“This is the HN-1,” the Rigorian stated forcefully. “That designation allows it to be distinguished among others without difficulty.”

“Yeah, I know, but it just seems too impersonal. I’d like the ship renamed to be the Goliath. It just seems appropriate based on its size and intimidation factor.”

“I do not understand any of the references you make, and I reject any such change in designation.”

Rigorians had always rubbed him the wrong way, and this particular one was no exception. Adam took a step in closer to the alien, who towered a full foot taller than him. “Captain Vins, I do not recall asking your permission. It is a simple matter, and one I expect you to carry out promptly and without question. Do you understand?”

“I will have to check first with Kroekus.”

Adam stepped back and smiled. “By all means, check with him. But just note that he came to me to be his First Advisor because he needs me and the special talents I possess. I’m sure it’s the same with you, and why you were selected to command this vessel, and not someone like your executive officer. I’m sure your XO doesn’t possess nearly the skills you do and would never aspire to take over your command, if the opportunity presented itself.”

Adam saw uncertainty fill the expression of the gruff, grey-skinned lizard. He even swore he saw his skin change color, something Adam had only heard rumors of before. The alien’s mind was working overtime, weighing his options and recourse.

Finally, through scaled lips that barely moved, Captain Vins replied: “I will change the name, as you wish, although I find this whole display of power unnecessary and immature. You are the First Advisor and I am the Captain of this ship. We have two separate functions within the fleet.”

“I agree, Captain Vins… just as long as you realize that my position is higher up the chain of command than yours.”

The Rigorian’s expression was one of stone. “I see now that what all the others have said about you is true. You truly are an alien with an attitude, Adam Cain. And that attitude continues to create turmoil and tension even to this day.”

This time when Adam smiled, he bared all his pearly whites. “And that is a badge I wear with honor, Captain Vins. Just do your job and I’m sure we’ll have no further need for conflict or disagreement. Now please, make the necessary announcements and data updates. This is christening day for the Starship Goliath.”

********

Kroekus was trying to appear amused by the whole affair, when in fact he was obviously upset. “Why do you antagonize my crew, Adam Cain? I understand Human’s propensity for sentimentality, but to cause a rift with my senior command over something as trivial as renaming the HN-1seems to be completely unnecessary.”

“I know,” Adam said. “It was such a minor request that I don’t know why he made an issue out of it?”

Kroekus closed his eyes momentarily and shook his head. He sighed. “Now on to other matters, matters of much more importance.”

They were seated in a wardroom near the bridge, with three other aliens, all of different species, who formed the inner advisory circle of the Kroekus administration. Adam had been introduced to the aliens, but most of their names were too hard to pronounce to be remembered. So from left to right around the table, he simply thought of them as Manny, Moe and Jack.

“The HN-1—or the Goliath—has departed the Krinus Nebula and is now approaching a rendezvous point with one of the major break-away commands of the late Dakken Mor. Adam, you might want to see if your pet will help us establish lines of communication with this individual since he happens to be a Vicorean. As you are all aware, I have never been to the Tanic Galaxy before, so all my dealings have been through long-distant communications and representatives. The Goliath does have the firepower necessary to get this commander’s attention, yet it is not my desire to destroy the fleet I paid to have built. This commander—Qwels Nur—has no knowledge of us, as far as I can tell, and the appearance of the Goliath in his space will surely cause alarm.”

He shifted his attention to Adam. “Will your associate assist in opening a dialogue, before I have to resort to a blatant display of power to make my point?”

“I will certainly ask, and he may have more influence on this creature than you may think, seeing that Nurick’s last name is also Nur. These two could be related.”

Kroekus’s eyes grew wide. “That is indeed a fortuitous consequence.”

“But seeing that Nurick is not really part of this operation, he may require some extra incentive to help secure his loyalty.”

Kroekus frowned. “It always comes down to that, does it not? Discover his price, Adam, and then let me know. I will keep the Goliath hidden until negotiations can be established. You and Nurick Nur can take the Pegasus; however, be reminded that your ship is constantly monitored. Do not deviate from your mission.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Adam said with a slight upward curling of his lips.

********

“Qwels Nur…of this you are sure?” Nurick asked, while in a mild state of shock. Adam had informed him of the offer made by Kroekus, an offer that in one fell swoop could make him set for life. The problem for Nurick, however, was that he had no idea how long that life might last.

“If that is the same Qwels Nur I know, then he is indeed what you call a relative. Vicorean birth-mothers usually produce a dozen or more infants per litter and my brood was of normal size. And I do have a brother named Qwels. He joined the Enforcer Corps when I joined the channeler transport fleet. He subsequently advanced to Polimor Security, as do most Enforcers with ambition, and of that, Qwels had no shortage. The last I heard he was advancing rapidly within Security ranks.”

“That sounds like our guy. Now he’s part of this super-secret war fleet Kroekus has built. Will you help us make contact?”

“You say Kroekus will pay me for this effort?”

The smirk on Adam’s face said it all—if the alien could have read his body language. Instead, Adam had to put it into words. “That’s right. Do you have a figure in mind?”

“A billion nilabars? Does that sound reasonable?”

“Are you serious? I have no idea how much that is, but I think a billion of anything is out of the question.”

“As I have learned from you, I was simply opening negotiations,” said Nurick with a smile. His mood had improved considerably over the past few days as more evidence had been witnessed regarding their new status aboard the huge starship. By now even some of the crew was saluting Nurick in the corridors.

“Then since locbars is something you are more familiar with, I would say a thousand. That would be an amount for which I would risk my life.”

Adam’s ATD wasn’t good for much aboard the Goliath, but it did have a calculator function. So he did some quick figuring in his mind. A locbar was about one-point-six pounds of gold, or around twenty-three troy ounces. Since Adam’s first encounter with Nurick and his locbars, he had researched the data archives aboard the Pegasus and found that gold was selling for around twenty dollars an ounce back on Earth when the data had been last updated. It seemed that with an entire galaxy worth of gold now available, the precious metal wasn’t so precious anymore. Still, Nurick’s figure would contain a little over twenty-three thousand ounces, which would come to nearly half a million dollars.

Adam had to smile. To him that was a lot of money, yet to a creature such as Kroekus it would be chump change.

“I’m sure I can make that happen, Nurick. Now grab your stuff and meet me at the Pegasus.”

“I have no stuff, just this uniform I wear. If you recall, I had not planned on making this journey.”

“Understood, but a thousand locbars will go a long way to helping you acquire a lot of stuff.”

“And that is why I have agreed to help.”

Chapter 17

Nigel winked at Simone Dubois without Alic noticing. The slight curl at the edge of her mouth told him she concurred.

There’s an opportunity here.

It had been three months since Nigel and his party arrived on Anicett, and during that time things had gone better than planned. Of course, Nigel didn’t have a firm plan when they first landed, but over the subsequent weeks, one had emerged. And this latest news out of the Polimor Clan was a bonus he hadn’t counted on.

The leader of the Polimors was dead, killed in some sort of catastrophe to strike the city of Balic-Mor. There was even a low-yield nuclear explosion involved, which only made the death more dramatic.

The reports out of the planet Ralic-Sim were still sketchy and speculative. Some believed the event to be a freak consequence of a disturbance that began at the nearby security spaceport. Others were saying the nuclear explosion had to be triggered on purpose; that power stations simply didn’t go critical like that.

And the timing was suspect, too. Dakken spent ninety percent of his time on Huof, not Ralic-Sim, yet he had just been called to the city on a matter of critical importance to the Clan, or so the reports said. He had only just arrived and met with his First Advisor Solius Vix when the city was destroyed.

Naturally, some were already blaming the Kiran Clan, and that played right into Nigel’s hands. As soon as Alic Kiran was through stomping around the room and dismissed the meeting, Nigel would begin to feed the propaganda surrounding the event on Ralic-Sim.

“Is there any truth whatsoever that we were involved in this act?” Alic’s question was a screech that echoed off the cold, concrete walls of his security bunker. Even though he directed the question at no one in particular out of the twenty-four beings in the room, Nigel knew it was meant for him.

“Why would we do such a thing, Lord Kiran?” he said calmly. “It’s an unwritten rule in war that the leaders are off-limits.”

‘Obviously a rule written by the leaders themselves,” Alic spat out sarcastically.

“There has to be someone left to negotiate with, and leaving a power vacuum at the top can only bring about uncertainty and the potential of rebellion within the ranks.”

There were nods around the table. Alic noticed the reaction and Nigel saw an increase in the panicked expression on the alien’s face. “You are the master of war, Nigel McCarthy,” Alic said. “Maybe if the people of Tanic were more violent and aggressive, like those from Silea, then we might have acquired such knowledge over time, as well. Instead, I will bow to your intimate experience in such matters. Yet that still does not quell the rumors that are beginning to circulate, not only within the Polimors, but also among us.”

“In light of our recent activities, an escalation of hostilities between our Clans was predicted, even though we are simply answering the build-up of a Polimor military fleet with one of our own. It’s the only way to maintain peace between our people.”

“How can matching military strength with military strength assure peace?” asked one of the odd creatures down the table, a bug-like thing with a disconcerting pair of multi-faceted eyes.

“We can it MAD,” Nigel answered.

“I agree,” was the common murmur that spread throughout the room.

“It’s an acronym for Mutual Assured Destruction or M-A-D. If both parties are on parity militarily, then neither will be tempted to strike. War only occurs when one party believes they have an advantage over the other. If we had not answered the Polimor build-up with one of our own, we would have only been inviting aggression.”

Nigel smiled slightly at the embarrassed looks now permeating the room. Even Alic Kiran was silent—for a moment.

“Yet, Master McCarthy, our efforts in this area have been more public than the Polimors. And with the advanced propulsion system you’ve so graciously decided to give us, our ships are several degrees superior to what the Polimors are building, if our intelligence is accurate. That fact must surely be of concern to the Polimors; and now this event and by suspicious means. I’m afraid the Polimors will react negatively and believe the falsehoods that are spreading. How can we defuse this situation?”

All eyes turned to Nigel—which was a common occurrence these days in the upper chambers of the Clan leadership. Even though he knew exactly what he was going to do, he hesitated before answering, as if analyzing the problem from his expert position as the Lord of War.

“We call this having to prove a negative. Since there is no evidence that we were involved, it’s virtually impossible to prove that we weren’t. I suggest we put on a very public show of sympathy and support for the Polimors and their loss. At the same time, we increase our efforts to build and refit the fleet. Our new ships will be coming off the line with the new concentrated-array gravity-drive, yet we can get a jump on this effort by refitting as many of our security ships as possible with the new technology. It will be cheaper and faster, compared to a complete build from the keel up. It is my belief that sometime soon the Polimors may seek revenge against us for an act for which we were not responsible. We must be prepared.”

Alic was nodding emphatically as he stomped around the table. “Yes, we must be prepared. This event will cause a power vacuum—as you call it. Do we have any idea who will step into a leadership position within the Clan?”

“With Lord Vix also killed, there is no one who stands out prominently,” said one of the other advisors.

“And their fleet; what about that?” asked Alic Kiran.

A military question, and again all eyes shifted to Nigel. He had hesitated at first revealing his background to Alic, yet now he was grateful he had. The Kirans were starving for guidance in this arena, ever since the reports of Polimor military ambitions had begun to surface a few years before. The Polimors seemed to be much more adept at military tactics and strategy than one would expect from their background. It was not the same with the Kiran Clan, at least not until Nigel showed up.

Now there was mad rush to learn all they could about the art of war, and Nigel McCarthy was their guru—and in the eyes of some—their salvation.

“I have seen this before,” he began. “Typically individual commanders will assume control over their forces, led by a supreme military figure, either a general or an admiral. I believe I have briefed you all on these ranks. For reference, this information is now in the database.”

He frowned and pursed his lips before continuing. He waited until the impatient Alic Kiran was about to boil over before continuing. It was a power game Nigel played within the room. He now controlled the conversation, and as such, the power of the Clan.

“The Polimors are just as new at the art of war as we are. Their leadership is very inexperienced, and therefore, probably uncertain what to do in this instance. Commander-One Zi’lous Jur is the current leader of the clandestine fleet, as far as we can tell.”

“Not very clandestine, is it?” said a voice down the table.

“Nothing is, Advisor. That is something that we, as a Clan, must also accept. With the vast manufacturing operations of the Clan, which relies on the assistance from others not of the Clan, there is no doubt that the Polimors know all about our new drive and efforts to build and refit a military fleet.”

“We know all that, McCarthy,” said Alic impatiently. “What about Zi’lous? Is he a threat?”

Nigel looked around the table. “Do we even know if he’s still alive? Could he have been with Dakken?”

No one answered the question.

“First we must confirm that he survived. If he did, then he will be securing the fleet as we speak, while at the same time preparing for an attack from our forces.”

“But we are not going to attack!” said Alic.

“I know that, Lord Kiran, but Zi’lous must always assume the worst. And as an alternative, he may choose to take the initiative. According to intelligence reports, the Polimors outnumber our skeleton fleet by a factor of four-to-one. Even with our superior engines—on a relative few of our units I might add—he may elect to launch a preemptive strike against us before we have a chance to roll out the fleet.”

“And if he didn’t survive?”

“Then paranoia will spread throughout the individual units. Eventually someone will rise to top and assume control. In the meantime, the situation will remain extremely volatile. Some of the more radicalized commanders may even elect to strike at us on their own, possibly targeting our production facilities.” At least, that is what I will suggest to them, Nigel thought.

He turned his gaze directly on the nervous-looking Alic Kiran. “And as far as you are concerned, Lord Kiran, I would consider you to be in extreme danger. If the belief builds even more that we are responsible for the death of the Polimor leader, then some within their Clan may seek a quid pro quo.” Nigel saw blank expressions come over the faces of several of the aliens. “It means something for something,” he explained quickly. “They may seek to assassinate our leader to answer for the assassination of their own.”

The reaction from the Clan leader was what Nigel expected. He began to shake visibly, with tiny amounts of spittle draining out the corners of his mouth. Yet it was his eyes that told the full story, and all the others at the table could see it, too.

Nigel knew the meeting was drawing to a close, and he had a lot to do at its conclusion.

He had to send out false leads to the Polimors, providing even more tantalizing evidence that the Kirans were responsible for the death of Lord Dakken.

He also had to meet again with his co-conspirators. The coup he planned had been advancing nicely, but now with this new crisis, he could easily advance the timetable. After all, someone had once infamously claimed that you never let a good crisis go to waste.

And lastly, he had to up the strength of the subtle poison he’d been feeding Alic Kiran for the past four weeks. It wasn’t a deadly poison, but more of a narcotic designed to create paranoia and irrational behavior. It had taken him a month to find the right combination of drugs that would work on the alien, but once he had, the affects had been nothing but miraculous. The once strong and confident leader of the Kiran Clan—a being raised from birth to manage the organization—had disintegrated into this volatile, caustic and scared creature Nigel now saw across the table from him.

The unrest that was growing within the higher ranks of the Clan—from a combination of impending military operations, as well as the public deterioration of Alic’s condition—had made Nigel the go-to-guy for the conspirators. The aliens had very little experience with court intrigue. But not Nigel—at least not according to the stories he circulated. He made it sound as if only through betrayal and revolution was politics practiced in the Silean Galaxy. They weren’t far off, but still the truth had been exaggerated to the extreme.

And now Nigel McCarthy was in thick with the conspirators, with even some within the movement now suggesting that it be Nigel McCarthy to replace Alic Kiran as Lord of the Clan. He was thankful for the multi-species nature of the Clan, where even an outsider like himself could be accepted as the leader without raising an eyebrow among the populace.

And who better to lead in a time of war than the only military professional in the Tanic Galaxy?

In the words of Nigel’s most-admired philosopher, Sun Tzu: The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting.

To Nigel, this approach sure beat trying to take over the Clan by more direct means with only his hundred Humans. The paranoia of politicians was so much more predictable—and manageable.

Yet for Nigel, there was one agonizing question casting a shadow over all this political intrigue: Who was it pulling the strings of the Polimor Clan? They were too proficient and advanced in their military operations than they should be. Nigel couldn’t believe this to be simply a result of natural causes. From his experience, aliens weren’t that competent to build such an impressive military machine from scratch, and in such a short time.

They had to have help. And the only source for talent of that kind had to come from the Milky Way Galaxy.

Chapter 18

“Why don’t you just bolt away and never see your large friend again?”

Adam pursed his lips and continued to stare at the main computer screen of the Pegasus. The alien had a point. Although he knew Kroekus could monitor the location of his ship, Adam doubted that the Silean would head out after him in the Goliath. Even with the new, juiced up power-modules working at optimum, Kroekus’s ship could still outrun the Pegasus. But the alien had more important things to deal with than chasing after him.

Adam had to admit the thought had crossed his mind. But to cut out now would mean abandoning his primary mission—which was the elimination of Nigel McCarthy. Since arriving in the Cloud, Adam had found that his mission wasn’t such a straight-forward affair as he’d first imagined. Now he needed allies and who better than Kroekus with his super-ship, formidable fleet and extensive contacts?

Sure, Kroekus should have ranked right up there with Nigel McCarthy on Adam’s Naughty List. It was just that for the time being, necessity did make for strange bedfellows. If his mission succeeded, he would rethink the whole Kroekus affair. But for now, he would use the huge alien as much as he could. And that also meant allowing himself to be used by Kroekus.

The sooner Adam could help the Silean resolve his rogue fleet issue, the sooner both of them could get to work on their mutual Nigel McCarthy problem.

********

Qwels Nur and his fleet of over four hundred small-to-medium-size warships was located within a dense star cluster about fifteen hundred light-years from Ralic-Sim, yet only four hundred from the Goliath. The Pegasus made the hop in a day and half—longer than it should have taken, since they had to navigate through some treacherous gravity eddies near the star cluster.

Qwels’ fleet was one of eight such commands Kroekus had helped finance for the Polimors. It was one of the smaller ones, Kroekus explained, and Adam was surprised to learn that the Polimors had nearly five thousand starships combined, either fleet-ready or nearing final completion. In any galaxy, that was a major force to be reckoned with, and in a place like the Cloud, it was a game-changer. It was obvious Kroekus had left nothing to chance. When he made his move, he would be in a position to sweep across the galaxy in one massive campaign of conquest.

It now made more sense why Kroekus would be so concerned with recent events. Theoretically he owned the fleet; in reality, none of the Polimors knew it.

Using conventional wormhole communications, Nurick sent out a message to his brother, blanketing the region with a general broadcast that would be based on word recognition. Once the name Qwels Nur was identified, the communication would be routed to him automatically. Theoretically, Qwels could be on the other side of the galaxy and eventually the message would reach him.

As Nurick related, he and his brother had last spoken four years ago, when their birth-mother had died. It was simply an informational call for both, since birth-mothers on Vicor often produced up to a dozen litters in their lifetime, and therefore never developed a close bond with any of their plentiful offspring.

It was also rare that siblings would remain close. The only thing that bonded the brothers together was the fact that they had both ventured off into space, Nurick as a merchant pilot and Qwels serving in various security forces.

And now Qwels was one of a select few Security commanders entrusted with not only the knowledge of the massive war fleet, but also its intended purpose.

Nurick wasn’t even sure if Qwels would acknowledge his message. In light of the recent turmoil within the shadow fleet, he had to be understandably busy and probably not the least bit nervous and paranoid.

So when the communications alert came through from Qwels, Nurick was both excited and nervous about speaking with his sibling.

Adam was amazed at the similarity in the brother’s appearance, until he realized that most rats on Earth looked alike, too. Even still, he watched the recorded message clearly for any distinguishing features that would set them apart. The last thing he needed to do was get them confused, if and when they all met.

“Nurick, it was quite a surprise to hear from you, and I do appreciate the concern. I am well; I was not on Ralic-Sim at the time of the explosion. Which does bring up a point: The time signature on your message would indicate that you are nearly within the system where I am located. I am not sure if this is by chance or by design, yet it will afford us the opportunity to speak in real time. Please initiate contact again. I would enjoy that very much.”

Nurick looked over at Adam. “Well, this is it. We shall see how the reunion goes.” He punched in the access code and then sat back to wait for Qwels to open the link from his side.

The comm screen flashed to life less than a minute later. Adam had the image copied to another monitor on the bridge, one outside the field of view of the comm station’s camera, and except for the different uniforms the two images wore, it was like Nurick was speaking to a mirror.

“My brother,” greeted Nurick. “It is good that I find you well and safe.”

Qwels Nur smiled warmly. “Nurick, what a surprise—and you are so close,” Qwels said. “And since you are, I insist you come see me in person. There is nothing better than live interaction. If I recall, you and I were the closest of the litter, and I have always felt a special bond with you. I am transmitting my coordinates. As you would expect, there are certain security protocols to be followed, and those instructions will be included in the location packet.”

“I am looking forward to it, Qwels. According to my readings, I should be at your location in less than two hours.”

“Excellent,” Qwels said. “I will have a lavish meal prepared. Should I include another setting for a guest?”

“That would be good. I have my ship’s pilot with me as well. He is a scrawny creature, yet a competent pilot, so I’ve been using him since I came out here. He would be very disappointed if I left him on the ship, along with processed food.”

“He, too, is welcome. My job here is done for the day, so I will go now and begin making preparations for your arrival.”

The screen went blank, although the coordinates and approach instructions were electronically transferred to the pilot’s station. Indicators on Adam’s computer began to flash that an incoming message had been received.

“That went better than we both expected,” said Nurick with a sigh.

“Yeah, and that’s when you should get very nervous and on-guard.”

“Yet not when events are unknown and confused?”

“You should be nervous and on-guard then, too. In fact, in my book, it’s often a good idea to stay nervous and on-guard all the time. You never know when something’s going to jump up and bite you in the ass.”

“I can imagine that could be very painful,” said Nurick.

Adam was practicing what he preached. Something didn’t seem right, and so his forehead remained furrowed and his eyes clouded, which he imagined was a common expression of those who had just been invited to enter the Spider’s Parlor.

Unfortunately for him and Nurick, they were not to heed The Little Fly’s warning: “Oh no, no. To ask me is in vain, for those who go up your winding stairs, can never come down again.”

********

Adam had never been in a non-nebular cluster so packed with stars and planets that navigation was virtually impossible. Fortunately, Nurick’s brother sent a small three-ship escort to the outer reaches of the cluster to help guide the Pegasus through the maze. Adam recorded every subtle turn and gravitational nuance they encountered on the off chance they might have to make a hasty getaway on their own.

As a result of the downright crowded nature of the cluster, the space around the planet where Qwels base was located contained most of the rogue fleet, rather than it being scattered throughout the system. Adam had to admire not only the planning that went into the building of the base, but also the selection of its location. It would be virtually impossible for an uninvited ship to just happen upon the planet and the fleet, and if it did, then certainly not undetected.

The base was located on a cold, thin-aired planet with more than its fair share of active volcanoes. It was sealed against the elements by a cluster of huge geodesic domes located next to a vast spaceport with the largest environment-hangar Adam had ever seen situated between the landing field and the domes. Even though they had seen only a few ships in orbit, the monitors had picked up the signatures of several hundred they couldn’t see. And now Adam found the spaceport was also packed to capacity, and without knowing how many more ships were housed within the huge hangar.

As special guests of the fleet commander, the Pegasus was guided to an LZ near the right corner of the hangar, and once down, a tractor came out and towed them inside. The interior was honeycombed with dozens of gigantic airlocks, making it possible for ships to come and go without having to constantly evacuate and then re-pressurize the entire hangar with each ship’s transit. The Pegasus was placed in one of these airlocks and an automated voice came over the ship’s speakers and announced when it was safe to go outside.

The temperature gauge showed minus twenty degrees Celsius inside the hangar, so Adam dressed in a thick, cotton-filled jacket. He loaned a similar garment to Nurick who still wore the dark green uniform of the Goliath crew, since his only other change of clothes had never been returned. The bulk of the coat fit him well, if not the short arms. His thin hands stuck out a good eight inches beyond the edge of the sleeves. Hopefully they wouldn’t have to spend much time in the hangar and could forego the jackets once inside the main structure.

As it turned out, a heated transport pulled up to the Pegasus and gave them a ride to the main dome of the base. Even though they didn’t technically need the coats, Adam told Nurick to keep his on. If they did have to make an unscheduled departure there may not be a heated cab waiting to take them back to the Pegasus.

They were guided to a large office with a soaring section of the glass dome making up the ceiling, and offering an incredible view of three nearby stars, each shining as bright as the full moon from Earth. Adam noticed there were no other lights on in the office, seeing that they would have been redundant with the glow of the stars so prominent.

Qwels Nur had already moved from behind his desk and was quickly approaching them as they entered. He had a warm smile and bright—although beady—rat-like eyes.

“Nurick!” he said as he embraced his brother. “Being stationed so far out here, it is so good to see a familiar face, and not only one from Vicor, but also from my own litter. Your smell is so soothing, and it brings back many memories of our younger days.” The scene was quite touching.

“As does yours, Qwels, and yet look at you now; the head of such an impressive operation—and with an office affording one of the most incredible views I have ever seen.”

“With rank comes better accommodations and privileges.”

Adam barely contained his smile, thinking, He didn’t just say that? It was too close to the Human saying of rank has its privileges. Some things, it seemed, were constants across the universe.

Nurick turned to Adam once the brothers separated. “Qwels, I would like to introduce you to—”

“—Adam Cain. Yes, I know.” Qwels voice had suddenly turned to ice, and within seconds the room was flooded with a dozen creatures dressed in blue uniforms and with flash weapons aimed at them.

“Qwels, I do not understand?” Nurick said. By the tone of his voice, he was truly hurt by the actions of his brother.

“I believe you do, my brother,” Qwels said, as he motioned for the guards to bring Adam and Nurick over to the desk and to place them in the waiting chairs. When they were all seated—with Qwels at his desk—Adam noticed that none of the guards left the room. Instead, they took up positions within eyesight, but at the edge of earshot.

“Why did you not think I would receive full reports regarding the incident on Ralic-Sim?” Qwels began. “Even though rumors are circulating about who was behind the attack and subsequent terrorist activities, your name—along with that of Adam Cain—appear in the confidential reports as the catalysts of the destruction. Whether you were directly involved in the plot to kill Lord Dakken we are soon to find out, Nurick—brother or not. And you….”

He turned his gaze on Adam. “You are the owner of the elusive eight-focusing-ring starship from the Silean Galaxy. If you have come all this way to participate in the demise of the Polimor Clan, then I am afraid you have underestimated us. Your galaxy may be ten times larger than Tanic, but that does not mean you have a monopoly on intelligence and tactical thinking. The fact that you arrive here in your revolutionary starship, just as assassinations, sabotage and a fever-pitch buildup of Kiran Clan warships occurs has been noticed. These events cannot be unrelated. And now here you are, right outside my secret base, pretending that you had no knowledge of its location beforehand.

“Now I must ask you, who gave you these coordinates, along with the knowledge that I am in command? Answer truthfully and I may spare you the death sentence you both deserve for conspiring to overthrow the government.”

Although Adam was frustrated beyond words for walking into such an obvious trap, he kept a calm demeanor outside. He leaned a little further back in the large chair and crossed his legs, trying to appear in complete control of the situation.

“I believe your proper title is that of Second-Commander, is it not Qwels Nur?” he began slowly. “As a Second-Commander, you are responsible for this small fleet of ships, one of eight such spread across Polimor space.”

Adam detected just the right amount of surprise–quickly contained—cross the alien’s face. Kroekus had given him a full briefing on the Clan’s military buildup and their command structure, so the fact that this outsider would have such classified information was designed to place Qwels off balance.

Adam continued. “Currently, the full fleet numbers just under five thousand ships, and is under the direct responsibility of Commander-One Zi’lous Jur. For a period of five years your fleet has been under construction as a defensive shield against the aggressive shift in the politics and ambitions of the Kiran Clan.”

A second officer had stepped up to stand next to Qwels; he was an impossibly thin creature with one main set of arms, plus two minors located at mid torso. This new officer and Qwels exchanged a concerned look with one another.

Nur turned his attention back to Adam. “I believe it pointless to deny any of your information; you appear to be very well informed. The question then becomes how did you come upon this information? I must assume that you did not learn it once arriving in Tanic. Therefore, there must be a link between us and Silea.”

Adam grinned and nodded with approval. Nurick’s brother was definitely the more intelligent and intuitive of the pair. “I am impressed, Second-Commander. And you are correct; however, you cannot imagine how much of a link.”

“Explain.”

“First, let me ask you where did the financing and expertise come from to build such a large fleet in such a short time, and without any prior military background among your scientists, engineers and manufacturing enterprises? Also, have you, just in your normal life, noticed any bankrupting of the Clan’s coffers, or any suffering among the general population from an excess tax burden that would be needed for such a major undertaking?”

Again, the two officers exchanged looks.

“I do not see where these questions are relevant. You and Nurick are being held to answer for the death of our leader, not so you can confuse the issue with riddles of your own. It matters not where the financing came from. The fleet has been built, therefore the financing and expertise was available when needed. That is all we are concerned with.”

“C’mon, Qwels, aren’t you at least a little curious?”

“Are you implying Silean involvement in these matters?” said the unnamed officer hovering next to Qwels Nur.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“That cannot be true,” said the officer, “at least not to a large part, otherwise we would have known.”

“And what do you think the reaction would have been among the Clan to learn that beings from Silea were actively involved in helping the government build the largest—and first—military fleet in the galaxy? Why was it that you were not informed?”

“More riddles, Adam Cain?” said Qwels. His confusion over the revelations had now shifted to anger, not at the data, but at the messenger.

“It’s not a riddle, Second-Commander. You know the answer; it would not have gone over very well. There is already an innate fear and hatred of those from my galaxy. You’ll accept our technology, yet even that makes you feel inferior and dependent, which only adds to your resentment of us. And now you learn that Silea has helped build a fleet large enough start a galaxy-wide war, just as has been the practice within the Silean Galaxy for centuries. The peoples of your galaxy thought you were above such nonsense, having based your interactions on commerce and fair trade rather than territorial conquest. But now you learn that your government has been manipulated into becoming just like Silea.”

“We are not like you!” Nur slammed his fist down hard on the metal desk. “We built the fleet as a defensive tool, to protect the Clan—and other Clans—from the Kirans. We are an instrument of peace, not war.”

Adam smiled again. “That’s what they all say, Second-Commander. Take it from someone who has spent his entire life as a soldier: That’s what they all say.”

“So what does all this have to do with the death of Lord Dakken? Was that something ordered by your Lords in Silea?”

“No, in fact just the opposite. My Lord—as you call him—has been working closely with Lord Dakken for years, providing all that was necessary to construct your fleet. Yet Dakken did not let very many within his inner circle know of this affiliation, and for all the reasons I’ve just outlined.”

Adam’s face suddenly grew serious and his expression hard. He uncrossed his legs and leaned in toward Qwels, now resting his elbows on the desk. “And now he's here, and coming to claim what is rightfully his.”

“You mean the fleet?” the standing officer gasped. “But that is not possible. The fleet belongs to the Clan—”

“Yet built with the money and expertise of my benefactor.”

Qwels leaned back in his chair and drew out a wide smile. “Your benefactor is insane if he believes an alien from Silea can simply step up to the Clan and demand ownership of the most powerful military force in the galaxy, and especially through some unprovable claim of ownership. This will not happen.”

Adam now leaned back in his own chair and returned the smile. “Relax Second-Commander. He's not here to foreclose on your fleet.”

“Then what does he really want?”

“Since the death of Lord Dakken—and the lack of a new leader with knowledge of my benefactor’s involvement in your affairs—he is concerned that the fleet will lose its purpose and break up into meaningless and ineffectual units. That was not why he invested so much time and wealth in the project, just to have it evaporate right at the moment of its great reveal.”

Adam crossed his legs again and let the pregnant pause in the conversation raise the alien’s curiosity to the breaking point.

“What then?” Qwels finally asked. “What is he after?”

“New leadership, Second-Commander Qwels Nur.” Adam emphasized the word Second in the title. “Are we even sure Zi’lous Jur, the fleet’s Commander-One, is still alive? Have you had contact with him since the unfortunate events at Balic-Mor?”

‘Events you caused!” cursed the standing officer.

Qwels raised his hand to silence his subordinate. “We have not, and it has been several days.”

Adam nodded. “And so with Dakken, Solius Vix—and quite possibly Zi’lous—all dead, there may be no one in the inner governing circle of the Clan who even knows of the fleet’s existence, let alone of its origins and purpose.”

Adam was quiet again until Qwels could stand it no longer. “Does your nameless benefactor have a solution to this problem?”

Adam nodded again. “Indeed, Second-Commander. First, let me tell you that he has arrived with a fleet of his own, and one possessing technology beyond even that which my own ship contains. And his firepower is unstoppable against whatever target he chooses. Yet he doesn’t wish to lead the battle himself, merely to help guide it, and for that he will need a new commander. That is why we are here, Second-Commander Nur, to offer that position to you.”

Adam noticed Nurick’s mouth fall open. He thought they had come to meet his brother simply to gain information about the secret fleet and what condition it was in after the demise of Lord Dakken, not to make Qwels its supreme commander.

Adam tried to ignore Nurick’s stunned reaction and only concentrate on how Qwels was taking the news. He was taking it just as expected.

Qwels met Adam’s steady gaze with one of his own, and Adam knew instantly that he had read Nurick’s brother right. He was the more ambitious of the two, having left his home planet for greener pastures and more opportunity. And now he was being handed command of the largest military fleet in the galaxy. For such a prize he would even tolerate a little backseat driving from Kroekus.

And as Adam and the alien shared a physic moment, he knew he had just saved him and Nurick from capture and imprisonment at the hands of Nurick’s brother. Since first finding themselves located deep within an impenetrable military base and surrounded by a dozen highly-trained and armed alien soldiers, Adam had been racking his brain for a way out of this mess. Luckily, a combination of quick thinking and a power-hungry military officer had done the trick.

Now all he had to do was convince Kroekus that he needed Qwels to take command of the fleet. But not only that, the Silean also had to throw his support behind Qwels against half a dozen other alien officers who would certainly oppose such a move—once they found out about Kroekus and who he was.

This would all be news to Kroekus, since at the time he and Nurick had left the Goliath to meet with Qwels, Kroekus hadn’t discussed such a plan with Adam, not even vaguely. Adam was sure Kroekus would be surprised to learn what he had just negotiated on his behalf.

Chapter 19

“You did what?”

Adam was expecting this reaction from Kroekus. “It was the only thing I could offer him to save our lives. But look on the bright side: you now have an ally with over four hundred warships.”

“Which is less than ten percent of my entire fleet! What am I to do about the other seven commanders? I can’t offer them all the captain’s chair, now can I?”

Adam had thought of that, too, and no he couldn’t. “But when you and Qwels show up at the next camp, you’ll have credibility for your claims with Qwels there backing you up.”

“And what happens if one of these commanders is among the majority who do not appreciate outside influence over Clan affairs? Do I then send the young Vicorean against another member of his own officer corps? That will result in too many loses, and all within my own units, and not that of the enemy.”

The other person in the room was Kroekus’s longtime friend and advisor, Dracus Worden. He and Adam had known each other for almost twenty years and Adam ranked him among his top five alien friends. At one time, Kroekus had been number three. Now he was off the List—at least off that one.

Now Adam turned to Dracus. “There has to be another way of negotiating with the other commanders.”

Dracus nodded. “I am sure there is, however I am sure none of them will have a sibling who just happens to be your current alien sidekick. The other issue is that Qwels Nur is the youngest of the regional commanders, and therefore the least experienced. This will not sit well with the others, who would be required to bow to his authority. It would have been better if you’d offered the position to another with more seniority.”

“Well, I can’t very well renege on the offer,” said Adam, feeling completely deflated and unappreciated.

“No you can’t,” Kroekus said. “But I can!”

“That would not be advisable, my friend,” said Dracus. “Word will leak out and then none of the other officers will negotiate with you.”

Kroekus grabbed a spare datapad that was sitting on the desk—Adam assumed it was a spare—and tossed it across the room, sending it into a nearby wall with a clap like thunder. “I do not have time for this. My second ship will be completed in a month and heading this way. I must have a purpose for it. My enemy in this galaxy is Alic Kiran, and now—to even a greater degree—my own creation, Nigel McCarthy. Having to recreate the system I had in place before the death of Dakken was not in my planning, yet without it my task is so much more difficult.”

He turned his angry glare on Adam. “Why did you have to destroy an entire city while making your escape from Balic-Mor?”

Adam shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time. But seriously, I had no idea it would screw up your plans so badly. Frankly, I could care less what you do with this galaxy, as long as I get my shot at Nigel McCarthy. So why don’t you stop all your shouting and let’s figure out a way to get back on track. None of us is getting any younger, you know.”

Adam’s scolding of Kroekus set him back slightly, but it didn’t cause the huge Silean to completely calm down. “Then let us go meet this new supreme commander of my fleet. Perhaps he has more resources than we give him credit for. I need my fleet back, Adam, and I need it now.”

********

Two days later, while in the Pegasus, Adam and Nurick helped guide the Goliath into the stellar cluster where Qwels’ base was located. Kroekus sent out a screen of two hundred fighters around his ship, as both security against an attack by a rogue ship, and also as a show of strength to Qwels and his fleet.

The tactic had the desired effect, as dozens of Polimor ships cleared a path for the mighty warship. And then as a way of punctuating the Goliath’s arrival, Kroekus launched a drone, and in full view of Qwels’ fleet, blasted it out of existence with a flash bolt more powerful than anything ever seen by the Clan—at least seen and lived to talk about it.

Qwels Nur and his senior staff were invited aboard the Goliath for a tour, and once they had been sufficiently awed by the experience, Kroekus feed them at a fantastic banquet featuring only the most-gourmet meals from across the galaxy. When that was done, Kroekus summoned Qwels and his second-in-command—a creature now identified as Mios Valnon—to a meeting away from the crowd.

Dracus and Adam were also in attendance, however Nurick was not invited. It was reasoned that without his brother present, Qwels might be more relaxed and forthcoming with classified information.

“So what do you think of my ship?” Kroekus asked the two humbled Polimor clansmon.

“It is truly beyond the imagination that such a vessel as this could even be built.” The brash, young military officer was in awe of Kroekus and his accomplishments by this point, and ready to follow his every dictate. “And you say there is another such as this soon to be in Tanic.”

“If need be I could construct a dozen such vessels,” Kroekus boasted. Adam smiled slightly, knowing that the Silean’s wealth and status in the Milky Way was on very thin ice. He was a fugitive, and eventually all his various sources of income and hidden stash would be found. Yet until then, Kroekus could still work miracles, even in another galaxy.

“Now the question becomes how can I secure the other units within my fleet, Commander-One Nur?” Even though it was not official, Adam suggested that they give Qwels the rank of the top military officer in the Polimor Clan—that of Commander-One. This would stroke his ego and make him feel like he really was in command of the entire fleet, and not just his small part of it.

“Lord Kroekus, I must ask: why do you need us at all when you already have such a powerful ship as the Goliath?”

“Because this ship can only be in one place at a time, and I will be expanding my influence across this entire galaxy. For that I will need many more ships and crew.”

“And what is your ultimate goal, if I may speak?” said Mios Valnon.

“Yes, you are permitted to speak; that is why you were invited to this meeting. As the newly promoted Second-Commander, Qwels’ fleet is now yours. He will have responsibilities beyond simply these units here. And now to answer your question, I seek control of the entire Tanic Galaxy.”

Adam watched the two aliens for their reaction to the Silean’s declaration. He was sure they had no qualms with the Polimor Clan taking over the galaxy and replacing all the other Clans. Adam’s only concern was how they would react to a creature from their neighboring galaxy leading the effort?

Adam had trouble calling Kroekus’s plan an invasion, since the vast majority of the fighters on their side would come from the locals. Yet still, the action was being initiated by a foreigner.

“I will attempt to arrange such a meeting with the others, Lord Kroekus, however I have only had contact with four of the other seven commanders since the events on Ralic-Sim. And with the new evidence appearing, I’m afraid at least two of the units have gone rogue.”

“What new evidence?” Adam asked. If there was anyone with intimate knowledge of the events on Ralic-Sim, it was he.

“Communication threads have been resurrected regarding instructions on the detonation of an energy facility; what it would take to cause one to go critical. There was also a timetable and record of Lord Dakken’s movements.”

“Who supposedly made these communications?”

“They were between Anicett and the local Kiran Clan embassy on Huof, the capital of the Polimor Clan.”

Adam knew this to be total bullshit. It was his escape from Balic-Mor that had triggered the nuclear explosion, not some Kiran conspiracy that just happened to pull off Dakken’s assassination at the precise few minutes Adam was ravaging the city with a gravity-well. This had to be the work of Nigel McCarthy. He looked over at Kroekus, who mirrored his expression of suspicion.

“Nigel?” Kroekus said.

“Nigel.” Adam confirmed.

“What is a ni-gel?” Qwels asked.

“It’s not a what, it’s a person,” Adam replied. “The reports about a conspiracy are bogus—false—planted by a friend of ours, Nigel McCarthy.”

“Why would a friend of yours do such a thing?”

“He’s really not a friend, but our enemy. He is now working with the Kiran Clan.”

“Then why did you call him a friend?”

“That’s not important,” Adam said with a frustrated waved of his hand. “What is important is the fact that Nigel is trying to make the Polimors believe that the Kirans are behind the attack.”

“If he is working with the Kirans, then why would he want false evidence provided to implicate them in the attack? It does not make sense.”

“It does if Nigel’s intention is to start a galactic war.”

“According to you and Lord Kroekus, war between the Clans is inevitable.”

“That’s true, Qwels,” said Adam. “So why would he try to speed up the process unless….”

“Unless what?” asked the three aliens in unison.

“Unless you’re sure you can win.”

********

After leaving the huge starship, Qwels Nur and Mios Valnon returned to the domed Polimor military base that had been Nur’s home for a year, yet Mios’ for only two months—two months of the most hellish existence Mios could have ever imagined.

After experiencing the spacious luxury of the alien spacecraft, Mios resented his present assignment even more. He was part of a large and modestly-wealthy family—primarily channelers—who had interests across Tanic. He knew now that it had been a mistake to join the Security Corps as a means of furthering his political ambitions, yet how could he have foreseen the events that would impact the Polimor Clan over the past five years? He couldn’t have, and now these very events governed his life and movements, and they had just gotten even more complex and complicated.

There had never been a real Polimor military force before, just a weak imitation of one in the Security Corps. Even so, all the prior leaders of the Clan had come out of the Corps—even Lord Dakken—and with his family’s influence, Mios had received the most advantageous assignments to further his career since joining ten years before. So when he began to hear rumors of a secret project taking place within the Corps, he had to find a way to become part of it. Having knowledge of secret and classified operations was political currency, currency which could be cashed at some point in the form of blackmail and intimidation if need be.

What he hadn’t counted on was that the Commander-One at the time would assign him to this hellhole of a base, hidden away from all but a select few within the government, and commanded by this child-officer, Qwels Nur.

And now this child-officer was being promoted and supported by a juggernaut from Silea. Yet to Mios, the involvement in Clan affairs by creatures from their neighboring galaxy was even more disturbing.

Even though he was frustrated with his situation, after meeting with the alien Kroekus, Mios began to see a light at the end of the tunnel—a light which could conceivably lead to his leadership of the Clan—if his Clan survived.

He had been secretly working with the Kirans for three years already, a situation made possible by the fact that his race and family were members of nearly every Clan in Tanic. Some son of a brother of a cousin of someone now worked within the Kiran Security Corps, an organization easily ten times larger than the Polimors—or so he had believed until learning of the secret fleet the Sileans had helped build. Over the years, the reports he’d passed along to his relative had paid him a very handsome sum of locbars, enough that would allow him to live a very comfortable, if not lavish lifestyle on any number of civilized worlds throughout the galaxy. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to spend any of the locbars in his current assignment. This fact made him resent the assignment even more.

In fact, he had just received confirmation of the deposit of three hundred locbars in his bank account for passing along to the Polimors information regarding the link between the explosion on Ralic-Sim and the Kirans. At the time he received the communiqué and instructions what to do with it, he had questioned the intent of the disclosure, just as those at the meeting had. But he was getting paid to circulate information, not analyze it.

Yet now with the logic behind the creature Adam Cain’s assertion, Mios was beginning to see the meaning behind the madness.

As he prepared the next secret communiqué with information he’d learned aboard the giant starship, he couldn’t help but smile. Even though he was a Polimor, if the Kirans were so confident in their victory over his Clan, then it was good fortune on his part that he was supporting the right party in this conflict, and at its conclusion he would be properly rewarded.

Even if the Polimors became subjects of the more-powerful Kiran Clan, they would still need a leader—a governor or a minister. Mios would be very content with that. And the sooner this war began, the sooner it could be concluded. So Mios Valnon would do what he must to make sure the Kirans were the victors.

********

One of Mios’ most recent propaganda circulations involved the whereabouts of the Kirans secret gravity-drive production facility on the planet Ione. The Kirans had acquired the knowledge of the concentrated-array, and so with these new engines, the Polimors would need ten of their ships to equal one CA-equipped Kiran warcraft. The communication Mios passed on to the most-radical of the secret fleet commanders was a discussion regarding surgical strikes against such targets and their projected impact on the Kiran war machine.

The report’s conclusions were too tempting not to act upon—as was the intention.

Being a secret facility, the factory didn’t employ a large security screen around it, something that would have drawn undue attention. This fact made the production facility an irresistible target for a preemptive strike, one that could have serious repercussions in the coming conflict. As the Polimor commanders reasoned, if war was coming then let us start it now, and with a crippling attack.

The operation was led by Second-Commander Kac Loavor, and supported by another of the eight fleet units under the command of Onilin—just Onilin; his race did not have inferior and superior names.

Buoyed by the recent report regarding the link between Dakken’s death and the Kiran embassy on Huof, the commanders felt justified in their decision to attack, even without a formal declaration of war. And without guidance coming out of either Huof or Ralic-Sim, the commanders felt they were on their own, and with the very survival of the Clan now in their hands.

They also knew that the Polimors outnumbered the Kirans four-to-one in military strength, and if they could negate the technological advantage the new gravity-drives would give the Kirans, then their superior numbers would actually mean something going forward.

And so a combined fleet of nearly a thousand vessels set off for the planet Ione. Everyone aboard the ships knew the implications of their act and supported it. The Kirans had been a thorn in the side of the Polimors since faster-than-light star travel had first been introduced to Tanic over five hundred years before. Now all that was about to change and not a soul aboard the ships had any second thoughts about the mission.

Chapter 20

Nigel McCarthy had placed dozens of remote sensors around the planet Ione, so he saw the Polimors coming. He had also moved a substantial number of his warships into the region. If there was going to be a battle, then let it be an impressive one.

The action itself lasted nine hours before the last of the Kiran forces were hunted down and destroyed. None of the defensive units he’d sent to the region were equipped with CA gravity-drives, so they were overwhelmed by the sheer number of Polimor warcraft. And then the Polimors sent nuclear fire down on the facility—as well as the three surrounding communities where the bulk of the factory’s workforce came from. The destruction was total, and the seven hundred eighty remaining Polimor vessels headed back to their space feeling confident in their victory.

********

Within minutes of the attack, Nigel was in Alic Kiran's bunker delivering his report. Alic spent most of his time in the bunker these days, buried deep underground outside the capital city of Simus. The narcotics Nigel was feeding him had served to increase Alic’s paranoia to a point where only nine people were allowed in the room with him, and never all nine at the same time.

However, there was one other creature in the room with Nigel at the time; she was Dinis Grof, the long-time companion of Alic Kiran and the mother of his six children. She was also a trusted advisor and one of the most pragmatic aliens Nigel had ever met.

And that was why she was a principal leader of the conspiracy against her mate. She couldn’t understand what had happened to him over the past few months, yet she realized he was no longer fit to lead. She also knew that with the current political and military needs of the Clan, Nigel McCarthy was the person who could save the Clan from total destruction.

And now this attack—unprovoked and savage.

“We are doomed!” Alic shouted. “Without the gravity-drives we are at the mercy of the Polimors and their rabid clansmon. We must save what we can. I must speak with their new leader; who is that?”

“They still have not appointed one, Lord Kiran. At last report, they were using a loose triumvirate to make decisions.”

“A tri-what?”

“A triumvirate—a group of three people; they are ruling by committee.”

“Then establish a link with them immediately. I must make them an offer for peace which will spare us.”

“You are talking surrender, Alic.” There was venom in the voice of Dinis Grof. She was a loyalist—first and foremost—and therefore would never accept the surrender of her Clan to another. She also had no confidence left in Alic’s decision-making ability.

“It will not be necessary for us to surrender,” said Nigel calmly.

“But without the engines, we cannot stand against the Polimors!”

“We will have our engines, Lord Kiran. Prior to the attack, I set about diversifying our production facilities to guard against just such an event. The facility on Ione was only operating at about ten percent of capacity, so the loss of the factory is of minor concern. New construction and retrofitting of the engines will continue unabated.”

Nigel saw Alic go pale as he slumped down in a chair on the other side of his desk. The relief he felt was welcomed, but draining. The emotional rollercoaster he had been on recently was exhausting, yet even so Nigel was shocked when Alic Kiran fell asleep in the chair, right in the middle of the meeting.

He looked to Dinis Grof, who was staring at him with an expression bordering on worship. The two of them left the office, leaving Alic to sleep.

Once in the anteroom, Dinis stepped in close to Nigel and whispered. “Even though your foresight has saved us—for the moment—this event will mark the start of formal hostilities between us and the Polimors. The Clan will demand action, and that is why I believe now is the time; I will call a meeting immediately.”

She glanced back at the closed door to Alic’s office and frowned. “Perhaps he will have the good fortune of sleeping through what is to come. I will contact you once the deed is done—Lord McCarthy.”

Chapter 21

A week later, Nigel McCarthy, the newly-crowned Lord of the Kiran Clan, was comfortably ensconced in his new office atop the Clan headquarters building in Simus, ninety stories up. The office occupied the entire top floor of the pinnacle-shaped skyscraper, with windows that covered the entire circumference of the room. The view of Simus was spectacular, and Nigel was still in awe of what he had accomplished in such a short time—and with minimal bloodshed.

He may not be the leader of Earth—as the Klin had promised him so many years before—yet soon he would become the leader of an entire galaxy. As a Human, he still favored the Earth over Tanic, but sometimes a bloke had to compromise on what to rule—either a planet or a galaxy?

Below the penthouse office was a set of offices where his senior staff operated. Since the coup and his installation as the interim Lord of the Clan, he had appointed all his Hundred Humans to positions of power and control within the government. Although he didn’t have nearly enough of them to go around, he did prioritize their placement so that only a week after becoming Lord, Nigel was already the dictator of the Clan and in complete control of all the important agencies of government. Because of Alic’s family ties to the Kiran Clan, he and his ancestors had served as quasi-dictators in their own right for hundreds of years, a practice found in about half the Clans in the galaxy. There would be no outward sign of a shift in policy because of this, so the population would accept things as business as usual, at least for the time being.

Nigel had to smile at the thought. The Clans of Tanic had no concept what a true dictatorship was like, yet they were about to find out.

********

Simone came into his office from the floor stairway and literally ran to his desk. He frowned at her. “What’s the huff, Simone?”

“This!” she said as she tossed a sheet of paper on his desk. Nigel was taken aback; he couldn’t remember the last time he saw a piece of paper with writing on it; everything was displayed on datapads these days.

Nigel picked up the sheet of paper and began to read the translated English typing on the page. To his frustration, he estimated the damn report had to be written in six-point type or smaller, so he squinted hard to read it. He had glasses in the desk drawer, but the vain Nigel McCarthy would keep them there for the time being, or at least while someone else was in the room.

Soon he realized the importance of the message, and why Simone was so upset. He suddenly went pale; Simone noticed his reaction and decided to help him digest the information before he’d had a chance to complete the report.

“It’s that bastard Kroekus,” she said. “Somehow he got away from the Juireans and now he’s here.”

McCarthy had always been an excellent tactician, and part of that skill involved making connections where none were obvious. Now a lot of answers concerning recent events came into focus. He took several deep breaths before responding to Simone.

“So here is our mysterious benefactor to the Polimor military build-up and why they’re so much better than they should be at this point.”

“But I thought he was to be our benefactor!” Simone screamed. “The fact that he’s here and helping the Polimors doesn’t make any sense.”

“Just be glad he is, my dear, otherwise I wouldn’t be sitting here enjoying the view,” and then he attempted a wry smile, “instead, I’d be sitting in your office one floor down.”

“Very funny, asshole, now what are we going to do about this? He’s obviously behind what’s happening in the Polimor Clan, so he has no intention of helping us.”

Nigel looked down at the sheet of paper again. “It says he’s come here in some Deathstar-like spaceship—luckily only one at this time, although it says another bloody one is on the way. That could be a bugger, and considering the resources that fat bastard has available to him, there could be even more in the future.”

“He has to be stopped.”

“That is obvious,” said Nigel, “and before he and the Polimors get any stronger.”

“And what about Cain?”

Nigel’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of the name Cain.

“What do you mean, what about Cain?”

“Adam Cain—or have you forgotten so soon?”

“I haven’t forgotten. I just don’t know what the bloody hell you’re talking about!”

“It’s in the report, down toward the bottom. Cain’s with him.”

“With Kroekus? Adam Cain is here in this galaxy?”

“Duh! You really do need to get some reading glasses.”

In a panic, Nigel threw vanity aside and pulled his glasses from the desk drawer. Ignoring the disgusted look on Simone’s face, he slipped them on and read the report again, this time all the way to the end.

It was there all right. Adam Cain was the First Advisor to Kroekus. It mentioned him as a negotiator and strategist for the Silean.

“If he’s helping Kroekus, then we could be in some deep shit,” Simone said.

“He’s not here to help Kroekus; he’s here for me, plain and simple.”

Simone knew their history, so she remained silent rather than dispute the assertion.

“But why partner with Kroekus? Cain’s the one who turned him over to the Juireans.”

“Necessity, I would imagine. It’s obvious now that the Silean’s activities in the Cloud have been more extensive than he let on. After all, you don’t build a five-thousand-ship fleet overnight. Cain’s simply hitching a ride until he can get his hands on me.” Nigel then smiled. “After that—if I were Kroekus—I’d be very afraid. That bloody Yank is the most tenacious person I’ve ever met. I’m sure he’s not through with Kroekus, either.”

“You look scared, Nigel.” Simone frowned at her boss and lover. “I’ve known you for two years and I’ve never seen you look scared before.”

“I’m not scared, just apprehensive. Unless we do something about Cain—and before he gets his bearings—he could throw a mighty wrench into this entire thing we have going here.”

“He’s just one man.”

“He’s Adam Cain, my dear. Haven’t you read any of the books? This guy is a superman.”

Chapter 22

Superman was feeling depressed and frustrated recently. It had been a week since the attack on the Kiran production facility and still Qwels couldn’t arrange for more than three of the other unit commanders to commit to a meeting. Adam knew that until Kroekus could gather his entire fleet together once again, he would delay any major incursion into Kiran territory.

But what truly frustrated him was the fact that Nigel McCarthy was on Anicett and Adam wasn’t. Until that situation was rectified, he would remain in his shitty mood.

The comm unit in his huge stateroom buzzed. It operated by voice recognition, so Adam didn’t have to move from the bed to answer it. “This is Cain.”

“It is Nurick. I have news which you may find pleasing.”

Adam remained on the bed, with his right arm resting across his forehead and staring at the ceiling. “What is it?”

Nurick had noticed Adam’s mood swing and was now going out of his way to change it, if he could. Adam had received a number of messages like this from Nurick over the past week, only to be disappointed in their content.

“Qwels has managed to get all the other commanders to agree to a meeting.” Nurick’s voice was jubilant.

“Great…when?” Adam’s voice was less than enthusiastic. This was good news; his mood just didn’t let him feel it.

“Three days. The location has been set and it will take place aboard the Goliath.”

“So how did he pull that off?” Adam felt obligated to ask.

“Pull what off?”

“The meeting; how did he manage that?”

“Oh. From what I gather, once the two other Second-Commanders returned from their raid of the Kiran factory, they are now available to meet. They say it is time to make preparations for war—which is what the fleet was built to do. In my opinion, I believe they would also like to boast about their recent adventure. The others then followed suit.”

“That’s probably it right there,” Adam said. “Maybe now we can get this show on the road,” he said in a whisper—which the sound monitor still picked up clearly and relayed to Nurick.

“Oh, very clever, Adam; we are the performance—the show— and so will be traveling to the meeting on a road through space. You see, I am learning.”

“Good for you,” Adam said as sent the verbal command to terminate the call. And then under his breath he said, “It’s about time.”

********

During the three days it took the Goliath to travel to the rendezvous point, a force of ninety Kiran starships attacked the planet Liszt, where most of the financial records of the Polimor Clan were stored. It was a surgical strike, and from the reports, was a success for the Kiran's and an unmitigated disaster for the Polimors. For an organization built solely around commerce and trade, the target couldn’t have been more appropriate.

To Adam the plan had Nigel’s fingerprints all over it.

Since the Polimors and Kirans were now at war, he was noticing that the aliens had no idea what to do next. The effectiveness of the attack on the data facilities was a perfect example of that. In wartime, a society was required to take certain precautions in order to protect itself, precautions that went beyond solely military considerations. The Polimors weren’t doing any of that, and so Nigel McCarthy would continue to exploit every little weakness he found.

********

All the other seven unit commanders—along with their protective units—were at the meeting coordinates a few hours before the Goliath showed up. Although Adam couldn’t see inside their ships when the mighty starship came on their screens, he knew the commanders had to be pissing down their legs at the sight of the behemoth closing on their tiny vessels—that is if their respective species had the ability to piss down their legs….

Qwels was on the comm at the time reassuring each of the commanders that everything as all right and that this mighty warship was on the side of the Polimors. By the time the officers shuttled over to the Goliath, they were already thoroughly in awe by the vessel—and by extension, its owner.

Always the showman, Kroekus took the opportunity of the meeting to play all the angles. They met in the huge conference room where Adam and Nurick had first encountered Kroekus aboard the Goliath, with a stunning view of a nearby black hole/white dwarf pair in all their glory. The location had been selected for that very reason—a visual representation of something very small devouring an object as large as a star. Whether the aliens would comprehend the subliminal meaning, Adam had no idea. Yet for him, it was all pretty impressive.

Kroekus sat at the head of the table in a massive chair—a throne almost—and remained silent as a nervous Qwels Nur addressed the commanders and their seconds, beings who were all senior to him in time-in-service and prestige within the Corps. Adam was seated along the side of the table, immediately to the right of Kroekus. Qwels was across the table from him.

Special lighting had also been employed in the room, with a little extra brilliance focused on Kroekus and his bulk. Even though the other aliens in the room represented no less than six different species, Kroekus was still twice as large as any of them.

As a further show of force and superiority, Kroekus had outfitted a dozen fierce-looking Rigorians in battle suits and stationed them in a line on the other side of the inner glass wall of the conference room. The seven-foot-tall, unblinking, yellow-eyed lizards sent the intimidation meter through the roof, and even through his melancholy, Adam had to admire the effect the show was having on their guests.

To an individual, the fleet commanders looked nervous, yet as Qwels spoke, explaining who Kroekus was and the current status of the fleet, Adam noticed expressions began to change on several of them. Finally, one of the officers gained the courage to speak.

“This is preposterous,” said Second-Commander Kac Loavor. Adam had been briefed by Qwels as to the identity of the commanders, so he knew Kac to be in command of the largest segment of the fleet, and the leader of the raid on the Kiran factory.

“I cringe at the idea that a being from Silea would be in command of a Polimor fleet, even if the evidence does prove he financed the project. That is simply a debt we owe him, not an obligation requiring us to relinquish our control to…to a banker.”

“He is more than simply a banker, Commander Kac,” Qwels countered. “He is the former leader of the Silean Expansion, the ruler of an entire galaxy. He is also the wealthiest individual to have ever lived, either in Silea or here. To me, that speaks of incomparable ability.”

“Spare us your hero worship, Qwels. His accomplishments occurred in the Silean Galaxy, not here. We are our own masters, and cannot be bought by foreigners.”

“And yet you have been, Second-Commander,” said Kroekus, speaking for the first time. Again, Adam had to admire the showmanship. Kroekus used the most domineering voice he could muster when he spoke, with a deep, powerful resonance that carried no hint of frustration or uncertainty. Even Adam was drawn to the power of the voice as the alien spoke.

“I have not come here to simply claim ownership of the fleet,” he continued. “If your beloved leader Lord Dakken had not died prematurely, I would have been very content to let him guide the efforts of the fleet against the Kirans. Yet now I find it necessary to offer not only my resources to the fight, but also my expertise. I, along with my First Advisor Adam Cain, have managed a dozen such galactic wars in our time. The practical knowledge and insights we bring should be welcomed, not scorned. We are, after all, talking about the very survival of the Polimor Clan. And since you all arrived for this meeting in starships built with my assistance, and think it's true to say that, without me, there would be no fleet to counter that of the Kirans.”

As always, aliens were not very quick thinkers, so Adam waited patiently for them to gather their thoughts. Finally, Loavor spoke again.

“Please do not be insulted, Lord Kroekus. Your efforts on our behalf are appreciated. Yet these are Tanic affairs we deal with here, not Silean. We are a prideful galaxy, just as is Silea. We prefer to guide our own destiny.”

“However, for the past five hundred years you have benefited from the technology and advancements born in Silea, and provided to you by me and my family. Without us, there would be no interaction between worlds. Your galaxy would be a dark and silent place, restricted to only individual planets and species.”

“Which would be preferred at times,” said another of the commanders, half under his breath.

Kroekus smiled. “Quite understandable, First-Commander. Yet there is no going back now. What you must all do now is learn to defend yourselves against the evitable aggression of others.”

“Yet this aggression from the Kirans has only been recent, and I would say primarily as a response to our own build-up of a military presence.” This was First-Commander Daxis Anol speaking. He was the most senior in the room from a political standpoint. He was a member of the governing council of the Polimors, and yet with the least amount of paramilitary training as the others. As politician first and foremost, he was looking for an excuse for the actions of others.

Kroekus shook his head. “I disagree, Commander Daxis. I have known Alic Kiran his entire life, and I have never experienced a Kiran as ambitious and power hungry as he. The Kirans may be the most-powerful Clan in Tanic, yet he wants even more. He wants to be the only Clan in Tanic.”

“It was you and your kind that made him this powerful,” said Daxis. “You could have just as easily spread the technology around to the other Clans.”

“That I do agree with, Commander, yet hindsight will not resolve the current crisis. I am here now, and I offer what I can to help the Polimors survive.”

“Including your advanced propulsion engines?” asked Loavor.

“Of course,” replied Kroekus. “It is inevitable that this technology will spread throughout Tanic, either by me, by Alic Kiran, or by the flood of travelers from the Silea who will arrive in time. With this technology—along with Continuous-Wormhole communications, the universe has become a lot smaller. There is no resisting the future. It will come whether you want it here or not. Yet this discussion of philosophy and abstract subjects is wasting time. We know that the Kirans are deploying the new space drive on their warships. That means until we—meaning the Polimors—can answer in kind, we must maintain the strongest unified front against the enemy, using our numerical supremacy to our advantage.”

“Unified under your command, Kroekus?” It was Loavor speaking again. By the tone of his voice, Adam could tell he still wasn’t sold on the idea.

“Unified under that of Commander-One Qwels Nur, yet with guidance from me and Adam Cain.”

“Nur is inexperienced and of lower rank than all of us here.” Loavor’s voice was a growl. “If anyone should lead the effort, it should be me.”

“And yet I am the highest-ranking officer here,” countered Daxis.

“You are a politician, not a soldier!”

“Silence!” Kroekus’s command-voice brought an end to the argument. “And that is why Qwels will remain in command. Once the Kiran crisis is past, you can then settle on a more permanent chain-of-command. And since it appears as though the Clan government is paralyzed at the moment and unable to select an effective replacement for Dakken, all of us in this room will have to do the job of saving the Polimor Clan from extinction.”

Kroekus then glanced through the glass wall of the conference room at the formidable line of Rigorian troops outside. After an appropriate time for the rest of the occupants in the room to follow his gaze, he said, “If any of you are unable to proceed at this point and wish to abdicate your command, I am willing to accept your resignation on the spot.” He hesitated a couple of heartbeats before continuing. “If not, then I suggest we move on to more serious matters, such as strategy planning. You can be assured Alic Kiran is not wasting time on such trivial matters as command structure and hurt egos.”

He turned to Qwels Nur. “If there are no further objections, I will turn the meeting back to Commander-One Qwels Nur, who will fill you in on the basic defensive and offensive planning currently underway. Your input on these specific subjects will be welcomed and appreciated. Proceed Number One.”

Kroekus then turned a sly eye in Adam’s direction. Reading the expression, Adam curled up the edges of his mouth and winked at the huge alien.

His rendezvous with Nigel McCarthy was now back on track.

Chapter 23

The truth be told, Alic Kiran wasn’t having to deal with anything anymore.

He had completely recessed into a vegetative state ever since the coup and was now tucked away in a secure room in the Leadership Hospital in the basement of the headquarters building, fed intravenously and supplied with enough drugs to keep him from ever regaining his senses.

In the meantime, Nigel was allowing former Marine Colonel Emilio Adame—one of his Hundred—to run the war effort against the Polimors, while he spent his time devising a trap for Kroekus and Adam Cain.

He knew he had only so much time to act before information would leak back them that Nigel was aware of their presence in the galaxy. He was enough of a realist to know that nothing stayed secret for very long, and once they knew that he knew, they would view any report coming out of the Kiran Clan with suspicion. Or at least Adam Cain would. Humans were a distrusting lot, and for good reason.

So he had to have his plan up and running within days.

The complicating factor, however, was the awesome starship Kroekus possessed. Nigel was beyond the belief that he could lure the huge Silean out of his sanctuary, making him a more vulnerable target. Instead, Kroekus would come in his warship, a vessel Nigel knew he had no way of defeating in a straight-up fight.

He who is prudent and lies in wait for an enemy who is not, will be victorious, so said Sun Tzu. So Nigel would play on his enemy’s insane hatred for him and present them with an opportunity they couldn't pass up. He would set a trap, where even the most-superior force can be defeated, especially when they didn’t even know they were in a battle until it was too late.

Chapter 24

“How reliable is this information?” Adam asked. Whenever something this rich and detailed arrived regarding the enemy, it had to be questioned.

“This comes not only from our spies, but also from the local news outlets in the Kiran Clan. Alic Kiran is no longer in command of the Clan.”

“And Nigel McCarthy is!”

“Yes, Captain Cain.”

The speaker was the intelligence chief for the secret Polimor fleet, a Di’phoric named Vicum Zee. Somehow the alien had learned the proper form of address for a Human military officer, and Adam was more than happy to let him use it.

“Unbelievable. Do we know how this happened?”

“Lord Kiran suffered some form of mental breakdown, and in light of the current military operations underway, the supporters of Nigel McCarthy felt his experience could best serve the needs of the Clan.”

“How convenient. And what about the other part, about his schedule?”

“Again confirmed by multiple sources. As the new head of the Clan, he is required to make appearances at certain official functions, and the Clan Founding Celebration is one of the most sacred.”

Knowing Nigel as he did, Adam had to delight in knowing that having to put up with the mundane responsibilities of his new office would irk McCarthy to no end. He was not a politician, and having to act like he cared about the petty traditions of his subjects would be cruel and unusually punishment for the Brit.

“It’s still going on, even with the war?” 

“It is true that there has been a wholesale shift in population recently, as members of the various Clans return to their respective territories; however the Kirans are still the largest by number in the galaxy. The founding of their Clan is an event of much pride, and for the new Lord not to attend would be an insult to billions of clansmon.”

“And it doesn't take place on Anicett?”

“No, the Clan was not founded on Anicett, but on Unifen.”

Adam read the datapad once more. The fact that Nigel McCarthy was the now the head of the largest and most-powerful Clan in the galaxy irritated him to no end. Do these creatures not know who he is and what he’s like? Obviously not, but they would soon suffer the consequences of their low-information acceptance of Nigel as their leader.

Yet there was something else in the report that Adam could sense lurking in the back of his mind. He couldn’t bring it into full focus, yet it was there, of that he was certain.

He dismissed Vicum after thanking him for the report and then went to lay on the couch that ran along one side of his spacious office aboard the Goliath. Something was eating at him, something in the report he was missing....

And then it dawned on him. It was Nigel’s schedule!

As the leader of the Clan, he was obligated to conduct certain functions and to attend certain affairs, and according to the report, he had to be on Unifen in twelve days for the Founding Celebration. Yet before that he was scheduled to give an address to the senior Security members. That meeting was in ten days...and was on Anicett. So after the Security meeting, McCarthy would have only two days to get from Anicett to Unifen.

Adam jumped up off the couch and went to his desk. He pulled up a navigational chart of Kiran space, specifically concentrating on the region between Anicett and Unifen, a distance, he found out, of nine hundred light-years. The journey could be made in two days, but barely. It would mean a straight-line route with no deviation.

Adam noticed a white blur near the middle of the direct-line route between the two planets. He zoomed in and found it to be a small nebula, designated D-1164 on the chart. Even on the generic nav chart he was viewing, there was a red line running through the center of the nebula, favoring the northern side slightly. This was the safe passage route through the nebula, and after a few more minutes of research, Adam found it to be the only safe route through, other than adding a full day to the journey and avoiding the nebula altogether.

This was where Nigel McCarthy will be in eleven days, in this narrow channel, two light-years wide.

Adam’s heart was racing as he made his way to Kroekus’s office. The Silean looked over the information several times before he leaned back in his chair and smiled. “There are only so many opportunities to cut off the head of the serpent, my friend. When one is presented, it cannot be ignored.”

“And with the Goliath lying in wait, there’s nothing Nigel could bring with him that could provide him with enough defense, not even with CA-drive starships.”

“We will also be so confined within the nebula, Adam. Have you considered that?”

“I have. The Goliath does have the capacity of going dark, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, although for something this large it is not done very often. The systems aboard take longer to reboot than do normal vessels, yet it can be done.”

“Good. All we have to do is enter from the Unifen side well in advance of the deadline and find a good hiding place.”

“The Goliath alone?”

Adam smiled. “Are you saying it’s not powerful enough to go up against Nigel and a few escorts? C’mon Kroekus, this is an opportunity we can’t pass up.”

Kroekus was silent for a moment as his analytical mind sorted through the options and logistics of such a mission. In the end he smiled once more. “I will begin the arrangements. It appears as though both our goals could be accomplished in one fell swoop. Unfortunately your death-match may not come to pass. But once Nigel McCarthy is dead, then you can return to Earth free of the guilt you have been feeling for not ending his life before, when you had the chance. And I will be left with an entire galaxy as my own. It seems like a venture worth the risk.”

********

The Goliath left Polimor space the next day with a journey of nine thousand light-years ahead of it. Normally a trip of that distance would have taken only four days, yet because they had to travel undetected through enemy space, the route they took was longer and their speed reduced. They arrived on the Unifen side of Nebula D-1164 a day ahead of when Nigel was expected to pass through.

It had been determined that the narrowest point in the passage would give them the most advantage over the Kiran forces. With only two light-years to operate in, Nigel’s forces would be vulnerable to an all-out surge down the center of the channel by the Goliath, vaporizing everything in its path in only minutes of launching the attack.

The Goliath was capable of engaging up to fourteen targets simultaneously and with flash bolts powerful enough to pass unimpeded through any diffusion screen built in Tanic. Nigel McCarthy would die in the attack, a fact that Adam both welcomed and regretted at the same time.

He wanted the evil bastard dead, yet he wanted to see him die in person, and not on some tac screen in the dim light of the Combat Information Center aboard the Goliath.

He would settle for what he could get. And then a few days after that, Adam Cain would be heading home to Earth, and this time for good.

********

Nigel McCarthy watched as the Goliath entered the D-1164 and maneuvered to a location midway within the safe passage channel, at its narrowest point—exactly where he figured they would go.

Even in light of his plan coming to fruition, he was in awe of the massive starship Kroekus had built. He had read all the reports, yet in person, the craft was truly overwhelming.

And that was why his orders were specific: Target the focusing ring portals, weapon’s turrets and launch bays first. Cripple the mighty warcraft so it could not run, and make it impotent as a fighter. To accomplish this, Nigel laid out over three hundred cannon platforms in the target area, controlled not by aliens but by computers. Aliens were too inept for this kind of precise targeting, all of which must happen simultaneously. If he couldn't deliver a knockout blow to the huge starship within the first salvo, then it would be he who would be pushing up daisies at the end of the day, and not Cain and Kroekus.

Yet even if his first strike did its job, the battle wasn’t over. Nigel wanted the huge spacecraft for himself, even if it required extensive repairs after the battle. To accomplish this goal he would have to board the ship and subdue her crew—all five thousand of them.

This was actually the part of the operation he welcomed most, for during it he may actually come upon Adam Cain and Kroekus. And nothing would give him more pleasure than ending both their lives with his own hands.

Yet he knew it was mostly wishful thinking on his part. With a boarding party numbering in the thousands, he knew the chance of personally delivering the fatal blows to his enemies was very unlikely. Yet being the eternal optimist he was, one could always hope.

And now he watched the giant warcraft wink out on his screen as it went dark—a feat that was both impressive for a vessel its size, as well as fatal. Now when Nigel launched his attack, the ship would be open and vulnerable. In moments it would be active again, yet by then, the battle would already be lost.

Nigel was in a spaceship of his own in dark status, one of three hundred such assault craft—called latchpods—designed to magnetically attached to hull of a ship and cut through to the interior.

Nigel had recruited forty of his Human Hundred to assist in the raid. After all, this battle would consist primarily of aliens fighting aliens, and he was very aware how inefficient that could be. He needed the added punch forty screaming Human killers would give him. Besides, his men had come to the Cloud expecting some real action, not the political infighting they'd been involved with for the past four months. To the man, they were ready, willing and able to go out and kick some alien ass this day.

Nigel smiled. A ship full of five thousand desperate aliens—over ten thousand if you also counted his alien raiders—all fighting for their lives; that would certainly quench his men's thirst for excitement, at least for a while anyway.

Still, out of all the deaths to come, there were only two he was truly looking forward to.

And now, as he activated the computer countdown for the initial salvo against the giant spacecraft, he knew a new chapter in his life was about to begin, as another was ending.

“So long you bloody bastards,” he whispered. “You should known never to come after me. Now you will pay the ultimate price.”

Chapter 25

There was strange calmness that came over Adam as the Goliath went dark. With the powering down of the huge spacecraft, the damper on his artificial telepathy device was also lifted. For all time he had been aboard, the damper had cast a dull hum over his senses. It wasn’t debilitating, just annoying.

As Kroekus had explained, the ATD screen had been built into the ship, so there was nothing even he could do to turn it off. It was fail-proof, designed to protect against known and unknown threats from such devices, and so that even if coerced, there was nothing anyone aboard could do to negate the field's effects.

But now it was lifted—yet still it was not silent. His ATD only had a range of half a mile, so for him to be picking up any hint of electronic activity was unusual. Even life support and gravity aboard the Goliath had been cut, knowing that with the sheer size of the craft, it could sustain a livable environment until the time of the attack.

Something was off, but what it was Adam couldn’t bring into focus.

********

Nurick was on the bridge of the Goliath, along with Kroekus, Dracus and Adam. The Vicorean had asked to come back aboard over a week ago, just as it was preparing to leave on a secret mission of some kind. Up until then, he had been a guest of his brother at one of the larger land bases for the secret Polimor fleet. Yet Qwels had no time to entertain him, and without any skills to contribute to the war effort, Nurick had grown bored.

So he returned to the Goliath, to once again revel in its opulence and size. And the accommodations he had aboard the starship were light-years ahead of those found at the bare-bones military facility.

Nurick spent most of time now hovering around Adam, living vicariously off the celebrity status of the Human. He had very little background on Adam’s past, yet the bulk of the Goliath’s crew all seemed to know who he was. During community meals, Nurick would press the crew for more information, and it appeared for most that Adam’s aura came from that fact that he was a creature called a Human more than anything else. Yet for others with more intimate knowledge of the individual, Nurick came to learn that Adam Cain had accomplished certain feats in the Silean Galaxy that were now considered legendary. Details were still sketchy, but now Nurick was determined more than ever to learn who Adam Cain truly was.

And so he never strayed far from the Human's side, content to be known as his sidekick—whatever that was.

So it was Nurick who first noticed the furrowed brow of Adam Cain, along with the concern in his blue eyes. He moved over next to Adam, the light magnetic boots he wore keeping him from floating away in the zero gravity of the ship's dark status.

“What seems to be troubling you, Adam? Is the impending battle causing you worry?”

“No, that’s not it.” Dracus heard the comments and moved in closer to the pair.

“Trouble?”

“Nah, just a strange feeling.”

“When you have strange feelings, empires fall,” said Dracus with a smile. “Can you be more specific. Maybe the lack of gravity is making you nauseous?”

“That's not what I'm feeling. It’s just that with us being dark, there shouldn’t so much electronic activity—call it vibrations—still in the area.”

Dracus frowned. “We are dark, Adam, and our sensors detect nothing out of the ordinary. Could it be the nebula itself that is affecting your senses?”

“He can control electronic devices with his mind,” Nurick said with awe in his voice.

Dracus’s smile grew wider. “I know that, Nurick. It is a gift I’m glad only he possesses. But now, Adam, you say you are detecting electronic signals around us—not within the ship—but outside?”

“I’m not sure. I can’t pinpoint anything in this blasted galaxy, but I just sense that something’s not right—”

********

At that very moment Adam’s eyes grew wide and rolled back in his head and his body went limp in the zero gravity, yet held in place by his magnetic boots. With his ATD wide open and searching for any signs of even the faintest electronic signals, it had been too much for his conscious mind to bear when the concentrated blast from three hundred weapons platforms all erupted at once.

The attack was like one brilliant flash of light that enveloped the entire ship in a hot cloud of destruction. No flesh and blood mind could comprehend what had happened in mere nanoseconds as all the computers on the platforms synced for one simultaneous burst.

Yet for the crew of the Goliath, the after effects were devastating.

The entire starship was now vibrating with a strange harmonic tone, and there had been definite jolts to the hull, in fact, all over the hull it seemed. With all systems dark, there was an eerie silence in the corridors of the starship, which were now illuminated only by battery lights. The crew held their collect breath, feeling the strange vibration as it seemed to sync up with the beating of their hearts. With no monitors active, none knew what had happened or what they should do now. And so they waited.

Unlike other parts of the ship,  the bridge was without lights of any kind, relying only on the glow coming from the surrounding nebula through the vast viewports that covered three sides of the expansive room.

“Status report!” Kroekus yelled out. Silence greeted his command.

“Again, someone give me a status report!”

“Everything is down,” someone yelled.

“Then take us out of dark status and get the power back on!”

Dracus ran to the very first command console screen that came alive, and then punching buttons as fast as he could, he began to report. “Power is being rebooted and gravity will be active in a few seconds, Kroekus." Then he paused and looked a little closer at the screen, "Yet these reading cannot be accurate.”

Kroekus moved next to him and looked at the screen. “All the engines are offline? How can that be?”

“Not the engines, it is the portals. They have all been closed—from what appears to have been cannon fire. The engines shut down as a safety precaution.”

“We were attacked?” Kroekus couldn't believe what he was asking. There had been one brilliant flash of light, and now his entire ship was dead.

“Yes,” Dracus confirmed, “from some concentrated array of cannon fire. We’re still intact, since the barrage was aimed only at the ring portals, the weapons and the landing bay doors.”

“Only, you say?” Kroekus was fuming. “That only was enough to place us defenseless and unable to escape. To me, it sounds like the attack served its purpose."

“We can still defend ourselves, if we can get the bay doors open—” someone yelled across the bridge.

“Four of the bays were pressurized at the time of the attack,” another of the bridge crew reported. “They are now open to space and most of the fighter craft inside were sucked out at the time of the breach. The other two bays have doors that have been badly damaged and are unable to be opened.”

All the eyes on the bridge fell upon Kroekus, yet the Silean’s were on the inert body of Adam Cain, now sprawled out on the deck after that gravity had been restored. “What happened to him?”

Nurick knelt at Adam’s side. “I do not know. At the time of the attack, he fell unconscious. I believe he is coming to.”

********

Adam’s head felt like it was about to explode—or more correctly—like it already had. He didn’t know what happened, yet as he climbed to his feet and Kroekus filled him on the events of the past two minutes, he had pretty good idea.

“We were set up, Kroekus, and thanks to my hubris, we've fallen right into Nigel's trap.”

“You did not cause this, Adam. I did not have to be talked into going after Nigel McCarthy. I came willingly.”

Adam moved with a shaky gait to the console where Dracus stood. “No other cannon fire?” he asked after a moment of reading the data.

“None beyond the initial flash,” Dracus confirmed. “What does that mean?”

Adam pursed his lips and looked out the vast forward viewport at the brilliant colors of Nebula D-1164. “It means Nigel intends to take the Goliath intact.”

He turned to an officer seated at the weapons station, a creature without a job now that all his turrets had been destroyed. “Announce to the crew to arm up and prepare to repel boarders.”

“But we have a crew of five thousand. He can’t honestly expect to take the ship against such a force?” Dracus said.

“Incoming!” a crewmember cried out.

“Details?” Kroekus yelled back.

“Ships approaching, hundreds of them.”

Adam looked into the eyes of Dracus. “He planned this attack from the beginning, knowing the capabilities of the Goliath. I’m sure he's aware of our compliment and has come with more than enough fighters to take us. He’ll sacrifice thousands to achieve his goal.”

“What should we do?”

“The Goliath has value to him and he'll do all he can to preserve the vital systems and equipment onboard, so we'll use that against him. He didn't attack the bridge because he knows that would have fatally crippled the ship. Send the crew to the engine rooms, life support, weapons and data rooms. Seal them off and don't let those areas be taken without first destroying all vital equipment. And make it a priority to get those ring portals cleared."

"Wait! You cannot order the crew to destroy the ship from the inside out," Kroekus said. "What good will it do us in victory if we are left with a broken ship that is beyond repair?

"Here's news for you, Kroekus, the battle is already lost. We're dead in the water, and defenseless. If McCarthy wanted to, he could sit off a few thousand miles and cut us to shreds. The only thing stopping him is the prize of the ship itself. So we'll hold it for ransom, and hopefully buy us some time to get some of the portals cleared."

“That will involve work outside the ship,” said one of the bridge crew.

“Then get them out there now before the major invasion begins. And take along enough guards to keep the bad guys away."

"He won't let us work on the portals unmolested," said Dracus.

"No he won't, so get crews also working from the inside. There are five thousand bodies aboard the Goliath; that's a lot of man—alien-power—to go around. Let's use it."

Adam turned and addressed the entire bridge crew. "The bridge has been left intact, so we'll coordinate the ship's defense from here. Order the bulk of the crew to protect the vital functions of the ship, such as engines and life support. But as the battle progresses, have them fall back to defensible positions throughout the ship. Lock down hatches and sections and evacuate the atmosphere in spaces between them and the boarders. More than likely the raiders will come prepared for a loss of atmosphere, yet their environment suits will only slow them down and make it harder to engage in close-quarters-combat. When engaged, have the crew strike and then retreat, strike and retreat. Both our forces are of limited number, even though I’m sure the raiders can call up reinforcements, but not for several days. Our priority should be to get the ring portals cleared. With our exterior weapons damaged beyond repair, our only hope for survival will be to run, so get crews to work on opening those portals now.

"Now everyone move. When those ships lock onto the surface of the Goliath, we have to be ready for them.”

Chapter 26

Near the massive bridge of the Goliath was located one of the fourteen armories aboard the ship. Adam led a group to the room and began to dispense MK handguns and Xan-fi flash rifles. He made sure everyone had as many power packs as they could carry since the plasma weapons ate through them like candy. Unfortunately for the Human, he found no projectile weapons in the armory. That was probably a good thing, otherwise the panicked crew could go around perforating the hull with hot lead from an M27 or comparable assault weapon.

There were a few concussion grenades available, even though they were not recommended for use inside a pressurized hull. Still, he passed them out, while keeping four for himself. And then he geared up, with an MK-47, a Model-10 Xan-fi and a breathing unit contained in a small knapsack.

Most of the crew of the Goliath had some military training; Kroekus saw to that and carried out drills constantly. The Silean was taking his mighty warship into battle in an unknown galaxy, so the crew had to be ready for what they found in the Cloud. That would be an advantage they would have over Nigel’s invaders. If the raiders were like all the other aliens in this galaxy—including the Security Corps—they would have only rudimentary skills.

Even then, Adam couldn’t count on Nigel not to know this already. McCarthy would overcome his troops’ lack of expertise by sending in a massive number of fighters aboard the Goliath. He wouldn’t care how many were killed in the process, just as long as his objective was met.

And Adam had no doubt that he was Nigel’s primary objective.

Yet in Nigel’s attack on the Goliath, Adam also saw an opportunity.

He was sure the Englishman would personally take part in the assault, simply so he could find him and Kroekus. Yet this also meant Adam could go looking for Nigel. The Goliath may be lost in the end, yet finally the showdown between him and McCarthy could take place.

So he now ran to the comm center for the ship. It was a series of rooms near the bridge where both external and internal communications were monitored. Adam wouldn’t spend a lot of his time engaged in the general battle aboard the ship. Instead he would monitor the ship’s cameras from this location as long as he could until he found Nigel McCarthy, and then Adam would seek him out.

With any luck, his plan would catch McCarthy off guard. Knowing Adam’s reputation, Nigel would expect him to be manning the barricades and guiding the troops, concentrating on the entire battle theater and not just one man. Instead, Adam would have only one objective—to find and kill Nigel McCarthy.

There were only a few other people in the comm center; all the others who normally would have been there had grabbed weapons and run to their respective battle stations. Adam slipped into the main command seat that looked out over the twenty-eight large screens mounted along the bulkhead. Even though the number of screens was impressive, there were over nine hundred cameras scattered within the Goliath, so the images kept changing every few seconds, with the location of each scene displayed prominently in the upper left hand corner. Fortunately for Adam, the locations were all in numbers, indicating deck, section and orientation, rather than spelled out in some alien language he couldn’t read. In addition, if he needed help finding the location of a particular camera, a press of a button on the armrest of the command chair would provide a large graphic display with the location highlighted on the oversized center screen.

On several of the monitors he could already see space suited crew either at the mangled mess that were the sixteen focusing ring portals, or others making their way to them.

There were huge sheets of metal, bent and twisted, blocking the ports, and Adam couldn’t tell how deep the damage ran. Normally, exterior damage such as this wouldn’t extend far enough to reach the rings themselves. Yet the focusing rings for the Goliath were of a custom design and easily four times as large as those used on the Pegasus. Also, the energy modules that rode atop them were oversized. There was a very good chance, therefore, that the energy from the cannon platforms had reached the rings. If that was the case, then the portal was dead, even if the crew managed to clear the access.

But all they needed were two or three pair—four to six rings out of sixteen—operating to get the huge ship moving. Adam knew that wouldn’t be enough to get them to safety, but it would give them maneuvering capability.

Just then, as Adam watched, one of Nigel’s assault craft flared into view and slammed into the hull—directly on top of one of the repair crews. He switched to other cameras, and in nearly every instance, the same deadly practice was taking place.

Nigel wasn’t going to let the Goliath regain her legs.

Adam pursed his lips in frustration. He knew it was a long shot, but they had to try. The chemical engines had also been knocked out in the initial attack, yet with them the propellant had already leak off into space. There would be no reviving them.

Now hundreds of the large, black pods locked onto the hull of the Goliath, and the creatures inside opened airlocks and began the arduous task of cutting an access into the ship. Adam noticed that the pods formed in clusters, spread out primarily along the fourth, ninth and fifteen decks of the twenty-deck starship.

Adam nodded his approval at the strategy. If Nigel was to resurrect the Goliath, then he didn’t want it shot full of random holes across all decks. Instead, he was concentrating the damage to only a few decks which could be more-easily repaired.

Yet this also meant that his troops would initially be confined to those three decks.

Adam triggered the ship-wide intercom system. “Attention crew of the Goliath.” His voice boomed from speakers throughout the ship. “This is Adam Cain. The boarders are coming in on decks four, nine and fifteen. Evacuate and seal off those decks, and then dump the atmosphere in all three. Set your defensive lines at the main access points between decks above and below the ones mentioned. Do your best to keep them contained. Look for bottlenecks that can be easily defended. Cain out.”

On the screens before him, Adam could now see red hot sparks begin to erupt from bulkheads throughout the three decks targeted by Nigel’s raiders. Soon huge slabs of thick metal were silently crashing to the deck, as displayed in the images. And then the aliens poured aboard.

All were outfitted with breathing masks and wore a thin form of breastplate consisting of hundreds of thin copper wires running through them. The wires formed a crude diffusion screen, designed to dissipate the plasma energy from a flash bolt. For an initial Level-Two or lower hit, the shield would be effective, at least for one shot each. After that the wires would fuse and effectiveness of the shield would fall off drastically. The breastplate would then absorb only some of the energy from a bolt, but not enough to save the life of the wearer.

As Adam watched hundreds of troops enter the Goliath, he noticed very little organization or order to the horde. Aliens of a dozen or more species would enter the ship, look around for their bearings, and then run off down corridors apparently with no idea where they were headed. They were entering the ship blind, yet there were so damn many of them that organization really didn’t matter. The boarders simply rushed headlong throughout the now-abandoned decks looking for anything they could shoot.

Not finding much, they soon began to bunch up at the sealed off access points to the other decks. Cutters were brought in, and soon the blinding light from gas torches washed out many of the screens on Adam wall of monitors.

And that’s when Adam saw them. There weren’t many—probably one for every dozen landing pods. Humans, and they were effectively taking charge of the disorganized mass of alien invaders.

Adam counted between thirty to forty of them, undoubtedly part of Nigel’s original one hundred recruited and provided to him by Kroekus. Adam found it ironic that the Silean would now be fighting for his life against his own creation. And from the looks of things on the monitors, his prospects were dimming by the minute.

The Humans had assumed control of the raiders, and as the access openings were being cut between decks, they pulled back the troops, leaving only the cutting crew. When the doors were breached, there came an incredible rush of atmosphere through the openings, filling the voided areas, and in some cases, even drawing in some of the ship's defenders into enemy territory.

Next, the Humans ordered for several stun grenades to be lobbed through the openings, not all at once, but one every few seconds. And then in groupings of five to ten each, the aliens moved through the doorways.

Adam switched his view to the other side of these access points, only to find that a number of the cameras had been taken offline by the explosions. The ones that hadn’t now showed hundreds of the enemy flooding into decks that had been previously sealed off.

And the death toll was staggering. In fact, the largest obstacle to the raiders’ advance soon came from having to scale the ever-increasing piles of the dead and dying building up in the corridors. Using these piles as cover, the invaders continued to advance from deck to deck.

The crew of the Goliath was fighting with skill and determination, yet still they had to fall back, overwhelmed by the sheer number of the enemy. Occasionally, a large explosion would thunder throughout the ship, the result of a last desperate attempt to stop the advance or to prevent a vital compartment from falling into enemy hands. With decks being chewed up and spit out, the ship was being eaten from the inside out. Nigel may win the day, as the number of defenders gave way to his flood of raiders, yet there wouldn’t be much left of the ship except a burned out shell when the battle was over.

Adam had to smile, as he found a small sense of satisfaction with that thought. But then he suddenly grew tense and his heart leapt into his throat.

On one of the quieter monitors, a lone figure had just step through one of the holes that had been cut in the hull. The ginger hair,  the chiseled chin, the freckled face; the face was unmistakable.

Nigel McCarthy had just entered the Goliath.

This was the moment Adam had been waiting for. He didn’t bother with deciphering the numerical code for the location, but instead pulled up the graphic display. Nigel was on deck fifteen, only five below the comm center, and almost directly in line with where he sat.

He scanned the other monitors on the deck, as well as for sixteen, and found that Nigel’s fighters had made it through the initial barricades on sixteen. Adam’s problem now came from trying to figure out how to get down there through all the damn aliens, both his and McCarthy's.

He went back to the monitor showing the Englishman. The scene was a peaceful setting, compared to the frenetic violence taking place on nearly all the other monitors. On this one, there was just Nigel, standing calmly near the black access hole in the hull and looking casually into the room he had just entered.

And then he spotted the camera, one set high on the ceiling and showing the complete expanse of an assembly room of some kind. Adam was able to manipulate the field of view, and so he zoomed in on Nigel’s face.

He was smiling and staring directly into the camera. Then he looked down at a datapad he held in his hand. He waved at the small screen. Adam activated the audio pickup.

“Hello there, Adam Cain. I can see you sitting in that large chair watching me. Although our telepathy devices don't work here, good old-fashion computer hacking does. Smile for the camera.”

Even in the comm room, there were cameras, and Nigel had tapped into the one showing Adam in the command chair.

Nigel looked around at the room he was in and then back to the pad. “I imagine this has to be a bloody sick moment for you. This mighty starship is about to fall into my hands, and with it, I will kill all the crew, along with that lying, backstabbing slob, Kroekus. And yet I’ve been thinking long and hard what I’m going to do with you. That is still unresolved, and I will probably depend on what you do over the next hour or so.”

Nigel lifted a datapad and was silent for a moment reading data before speaking again. “We’ve secured all the decks from seventeen down to four, so I say another hour and the ship will be mine. Looking at you now, I see you are in a communications center, more-than-likely somewhere near the bridge. That would put you on Level 20. You know, I could have concentrated the breach on that level and hastening our meeting. Yet I love the thrill of the battle too much to have done that. Let our alien peasants fight it out, while we masters of war sit back in our vantage points and revel in what we are able to make others do. It is all quite exhilarating, isn't it, mate?”

“And I’d say a little sadistic,” Adam announced over the room intercom. “You know I’m going to end you.”

Nigel laughed. “That I doubt. You’ve tried so many times before and failed on every occasion. This one will be no different. And yet I believe you have just solved my dilemma for me.”

“What dilemma is that?”

“The question about what to do with you when we meet.”

“I suggest hand-to-hand combat, just like a couple of prize fighters. But this would be to the death.”

“And you see, that is where we differ. I think now I would prefer to keep you alive. Yes, death would be too easy for you. Then all your silly need for vengeance would be over, along with all the pain and frustration you’ve experienced in your lifetime. Yet to keep you as my prisoner, for years to come, now that would be a bloody treat—and bloody in the literal sense of the word, my Yankee friend.”

“You truly are one sick bastard, McCarthy. Now, after all I’ve been through getting here, I see that it was all worth it just to have the chance to end your evil existence.”

“Keep up the front, Adam, if it make you feel better. Yet you are only fooling yourself. You know I’m going to win, and if you choose to take your own life at the end, then that would spoil all my fun. Otherwise, let us meet for one final contest. I will indeed give you a chance, if only to satisfy my own curiosity.”

He shut off the datapad and placed it in a pocket before looking into the room monitor. “I must go now and clean up the mess I’ve made. I also have Kroekus to track down. I will deal with him first. So stay out of harm’s way until I can get to you. I’d hate for some lucky bastard to take you out before we meet.”

He then withdrew an MK flash weapon and blasted the camera.

Adam sat for several moments staring at the black screen. He had no doubt Nigel would survive long enough to make it to the twentieth deck. At that point their match will be fought on ever-shifting ground with a savage, desperate battle taking place all around them. He wouldn’t be able to control the battlefield at that point, so he would have to make things up as they went.

He lifted out of the chair and checked the battery charge on his MK-47. He set the bolt intensity at Level-One, a bolt which could kill a Human. He would prefer to squeeze the life out of Nigel McCarthy with his bare hands, but he would use the bolt launcher if needed.

He headed out of the comm center, having to fight through the mad rush of crew, many of which had retreated from the lower decks and now massed in the upper level, with nowhere else to go.

It was then that he wondered what had happened to Kroekus? And for that matter, he hadn’t seen Nurick or Dracus on any of the monitors, either.

If they had left the bridge deck, then they were probably dead by now, and that he truly regrettable.

He thought back to a time on Pyrum-3, when Nigel McCarthy lay unconscious after an explosion in the hangar bay of the Pegasus and the Phoenix. If only Adam had pulled the trigger at that time, then none of this would be happening. It was hard for him to comprehend how sparing the life of one man could go on to affect the fate of entire galaxies.

If someone eventually does manage to write a detailed and accurate history of the universe, they may record Adam’s one expression of compassion and noble justice as the seminal moment in history.

Damn, I should have pulled the trigger.

Chapter 27

The moment Adam ran out of the bridge to attend to duties unknown, Dracus grabbed Nurick by the arm and prevented him from following.

“I must go with Adam Cain,” he cried out.

“No, you shouldn’t,” Dracus countered with conviction. “But what you should do is save your life.”

In light of all that was happening around him, this got Nurick’s attention. “I am not opposed to that,” he said.

“Then follow me. We have a ways to go and only moments to get there.”

The pair raced off the bridge. They run to the nearest bank of elevators and found them to be all occupied and with hundreds of others waiting for the doors to open. Dracus took Nurick by the arm again and pulled him to one of the wide stairways leading down to the lower levels of the Goliath.

“Where are we going?” Nurick asked at they fought against the tide of bodies which all seemed to be going in the opposite direction as they were.

“We have to get off the ship,” Dracus panted. He was slender, yet old, and the effort required to make the descent down from the bridge deck was taking its toll.

“How is that possible—and why does not Adam and Lord Kroekus do the same.”

“Kroekus may be steps ahead of us already, but Adam Cain will stay and fight. It is what he does.”

Nurick felt conflicted, but not enough to turn around and return to the bridge. If Dracus had a way off the ship, then he was going to take advantage of it. Adam Cain would just have to follow his own destiny. Nurick preferred to live.

Yet when they sprinted down the now-near deserted third level, Nurick began to question the plan of Dracus. “How are we to exit the ship from this level? There are no escape pods here.”

“We have to pick up something first.”

“What is so important as to delay our escape?”

Dracus ignored him as he stopped in front of a door. He pressed a security code and the door slid open.

Standing in the center of the room was a young, red-hair Human Nurick had never seen before. As a matter of fact, he believed Adam Cain to be the only Human aboard the Goliath.

‘I was wondering if you were going to leave me,” the Human said. “Where is Kroekus?”

“He’s on the bridge level, I believe. But he may be joining us soon. Let us go now.”

The three of them now ran back down the long corridor and down two more flights of stairs and into an emergency evacuation chamber. To Nurick’s horror, all the escape pod bays were empty. Apparently, some of the ship’s crew had chosen to escape rather than face the battle to come. Nurick couldn't blame them. Yet now there were no pods available for them.

“Now we are in the bowels of the ship and the Kirans will soon be attacking. Your plan has failed, Dracus.”

“Have faith, Nurick.” Dracus then approached a large panel in the outer bulkhead of the chamber. He pressed a section of the wall and the panel slid silently  aside. On the other side was a large escape pod, its access door yawning open to the trio.

“Is there one for Kroekus, too?” asked the Human.

“Yes,” replied Dracus impatiently. “Now get in. Even if we can jettison, our escape is not guaranteed.”

“I want to go with Kroekus,” said the Human. He hesitated at the pod hatch; as Nurick suffered no such conflict, he rushed past him and into the pod.

Dracus looked out the hatch at the Human. “Don’t be a fool. You know Kroekus better than most of us. You know he won’t sacrifice himself over this metal shell and a few thousand beings. He had no desire to become a martyr. He will find his way down here. Now do as I say and get in.”

The Human still hesitated.

“Leave him, if that is what he wishes,” Nurick cried out.

Dracus and the Human stared at each other for a moment longer than Nurick could stand. He reached out to pull Dracus into the pod, just as the Human finally stepped forward and entered as well.

“Excellent. Now let us be gone from this place. Terrible things are about to happen here, and if we do not want to part of it, then we should leave.”

Dracus and the Human remained silent as the pod was shot out into space. Almost immediately, on the tiny monitor that provided the only light in the confined space, they saw dozens, if not hundreds of contacts approaching. Yet to Nurick’s surprise—and relief—they were not fired upon, even as several of the contacts passed within visual range of the pod.

“Why are they now shooting us?” he asked.

“Those are boarding craft; they have no offensive weapons. They serve to only transport raiders to their target.”

“Then we are truly fortunate.”

“Save your relief for later, Nurick,” said Dracus in the dim light of the pod. “We are in an escape pod and deep within enemy space. We have no weapons, limited communications and food and water enough for two weeks at the most. The only ship in the vicinity allied with us is about to be overwhelmed by thousands of raiders and so can offer us no safe haven. It shall be a miracle if we survive to reach friendly space.”

Nurick slumped further down into his tiny and uncomfortable seat. Perhaps I should have stayed aboard and fought alongside Adam Cain, Nurick thought. At least then, with a Human of Adam’s abilities, I might have stood a better chance of survival.

********

Kroekus had also departed the bridge prior to the raiders locking their pods onto the hull of the Goliath. Yet he had gone to his stateroom to gather up classified documents regarding his fortune and the Polimor fleet.

He was under no false illusion that the Goliath would survive the coming confrontation; Adam Cain had been right, the battle was lost before it even began. All they could do now was prolong the inevitable. Nigel McCarthy would win this battle, yet the war must continue. And now, armed with two large cases of datapads, Kroekus faced another daunting challenge.

The Goliath had never been built to be abandoned during battle. It was the most powerful warship ever built, so Kroekus had never imagined it could be bested. He had secret escape pods made available for him and his most trusted subordinates, yet nothing close to his quarters. In fact, all the escape pods were located on level one, twenty levels below.

And not only that, but Kroekus was the most recognizable creature onboard. For the crew to see him making his way to the depths of the ship carrying two large cases, well, it would be obvious to all that he was running away. How they would react to that circumstance did not take a lot of imagination on his part to conjure up.

So Kroekus took the time to go through the datapads more closely, consolidating them down to twenty or so, enough that would fit into a backpack. He then slung the pack over his huge shoulder and picked up a Xan-fi flash rifle from the bed. He would appear to be moving into battle with the crew, which would now go on to inspire them. He would bark out commands as he went, sending the crew in the opposite direction of his travels.

Satisfied that he would make it to level one, he left his stateroom—just as he heard the voice of Adam Cain boom from the ship’s comm system.

“This is Adam Cain. The boarders are coming in on decks four, nine and fifteen. Evacuate and seal off those decks, and then dump the atmosphere in all three. Set your defensive lines at the main access points between decks above and below the ones mentioned. Do your best to keep them contained. Look for bottlenecks that can be easily defended. Cain out.”

Kroekus felt crushed. With three decks below him being sealed off and evacuated of atmosphere, he was now trapped on the bridge level with no way to get to the escape pods.

He sat down on the bed and let the backpack slide off his shoulder. What was he to do now? He was no solider, so what little contribution he could make to the coming battle would be of no consequence. And Adam Cain was so much more superior to him in battle tactics and strategy.

He looked out the viewport to the crimson glory of the nebula outside. It was a beautiful sight, even if it belied the deadly nature of its existence. And even though he could see none of the invaders as they attached themselves to his ship like a swarm of Niegic bloodsuckers, he knew they were there, just another deadly element of this deceptively beautiful nebula.

So Kroekus would wait here; wait for any news of a miracle outcome to the forthcoming battle. If anyone could create such a miracle while in the throes of a battle, it would be Adam Cain.

Yes, Adam Cain would save the day, as he had so many times in the past. All Kroekus had to do was stay here, out of the way, and let the Human do what Humans do best—fight.

********

Nigel wanted to keep the bridge level intact, or as intact as possible. He could imagine the time and energy it would take to repair all the vital shipboard components found there if the battle evolved into a firefight on the bridge itself. Then there were comm systems, weapons control and navigation equipment. He would prefer to save as many of those as he could. The final outcome, of course, would be up to the defenders and how hard they preferred to defend their territory.

Since these were citizens of Tanic fighting, he was holding out the hope that they would soon realize the hopelessness of their position and surrender. These creatures were not as attached to territory as where people from his galaxy, and the huge spaceship—the Goliath the report had called it—was just a hunk of metal territory in space and therefore, hardly worth dying for.

There were only two more levels to control—nineteen and twenty—and already his troops were on nineteen. And yet the fighting had bogged down, with more and more of the ship’s crew now crowded onto these two levels.

The fear Nigel always had was that someone would initiate a self-destruct command for the ship. Yet in reality, very few ships employed self-destruct capabilities—unlike how it was depicted in the movies—and the ones that did were mainly security ships with something to hide if compromised.

The ship Kroekus had built was nothing like that. It was the Titanic of warships, and as such, it was in the process of suffering the same fate. The Silean’s overconfidence in the indestructible nature of the ship would be its downfall. So even though the thought still lingered at the back of mind, he knew Kroekus was not the kind of being to provide a way to voluntarily destroy his greatest creation.

Yet Adam Cain might find a way, through a generator overload or something like that. Nigel wasn't even sure if such a thing was possible, but still, he couldn't put anything past Adam Cain to try.

And so Nigel McCarthy gained access to the ship’s intercom system through the hacking program in his datapad and made the following announcement:

“To the crew fighting against my forces aboard the Goliath, this is Nigel McCarthy, Lord of the Kiran Clan. By now you must know your cause is lost and I do not wish to have any more bloodshed. So I make you this offer: Surrender now and I will provide transport and safe passage for you back to Polimor space. Since most of you come from the galaxy of the Expansion, you will be able to find passage back to your homes and pods from there. I will do nothing to prevent this. You can survive the day and then live out your lives far away from this foreign galaxy. There is no need for you to die way out here, and for nothing. The only condition I make to this offer is that the creatures Adam Cain and Kroekus of Silea be turned over to me—alive. They are the cause of all this conflict, and it is because of them that so many of your crewmates have died. That is all I ask...and the rest of you may live.

“I will now instruct my fighters to cease fire for a period of fifteen standard minutes, long enough for you show your willingness to comply. And if you are unable to secure the Human Adam Cain on your own, simply confine him to a space and leave him to me. Kroekus is another matter. You should have no trouble bringing him to me. I will be at access gate nine, Level 19. Bring him to me—as well as Cain, if possible—and you shall live.

“The time begins now.”

********

Adam was afraid something like this might happen. He was in a corridor on Level 19, having just dispatched twenty of Nigel’s raiders singlehandedly. He was now covered in their blood, and where moments before the crewmembers around him had looked upon him with awe and wonder, they now stared at him with nervous intent.

They had just seen what he could do to the enemy; they now hesitated before acting themselves.

Adam nodded at those around him. “Go...put down your weapons and save your lives.”

“Will this creature honor his word?” someone asked.

“That is a concern,” Adam said honestly. “But the alternative may not be very pleasant, either. I want to thank you all for fighting beside me. It was an honor to serve with you.”

“And yet he wants us to turn you over to him. Will you allow this?”

“That I can’t do,” said Adam. “But I can allow you to leave me to my own fate. He said for you to bring me to him—if you could. Well, you can’t, and I’m pretty sure you all agree with me on that point.”

The thirty or so assembled crewmembers all nodded their agreement.

“Good, now go. And good luck. Knowing Nigel McCarthy as I do, you’re going to need it.”

The aliens beat a hasty retreat from anywhere near to Adam Cain as if he had suddenly become radioactive, and soon he was alone in the corridor, surrounded by death and the moaning of the few who had not yet succumbed to fate, but soon would.

Adam’s last best hope was that Nigel would let them fight it out one-on-one. Yet he was pragmatic enough to know Nigel wouldn’t take such a risk, not at the crowning moment in his ambition.

If they did fight, then it would be rigged. So Adam had to rig the game himself.

Nigel had already said he would take Adam prisoner if he got the chance, a fate he knew would be so much worse than death. So his only way out would be to die—and take Nigel with him. If Adam could come up with a plan over the next few minutes that would guarantee such an outcome, he could go in peace, knowing that McCarthy would end up a shattered corpse himself.  

So Adam Cain sat down on a pile of dead aliens to think, finding the seat to be quite comfortable from the squishy softness of their still-warm bodies.

The new Dead-Alien line of sofas and recliners, exclusively from Laura Ashley, and available at all Rooms-to-Go and other fine furniture outlets.

It had all the makings of a bestseller, in Adam’s opinion. And looking around the corridor, there was plenty of raw material available to meet the demand.

If wry humor—expressed at the most inappropriate moments—was a weapon, then Nigel McCarthy didn’t stand a chance.

And with that thought, Adam went looking for a bomb. As an ex-Navy SEAL, he had a lot of experience with explosives and if given the time, he shouldn’t have any problem building an IED—Improvised Explosive Device. All he needed was something powerful enough to take him to Heaven and McCarthy to Hell, even if it was simply a grenade hidden somewhere on his body.

The resolve—and resignation—he was feeling at the moment was cathartic. It wasn’t the optimal conclusion to his life he could envision, yet it could give it meaning if he was able to take out the most deadly villain in two galaxies in the process.

Chapter 28

Most of the Level 19 had been cleared of resistance, and his offer of amnesty had gone over as expected, with close to sixteen hundred defenders laying down their weapons and surrendering.

As information filtered back to him from the prisoners, two things became apparent to Nigel McCarthy.

The first was that Adam Cain had gone rogue, and that none of the crew were willing to go up against him. Nigel had expected this. The crew of this starship originated in the Milky Way, so they were very familiar with Human abilities, if not intimate with the exploits of Adam Cain personally. In addition, they had just been given the chance to live, and the last thing they wanted to do was go up against the most dangerous creature in two galaxies.

The other thing he learned was that Kroekus was still aboard and hold up in his stateroom. The crewmembers were very forthcoming about the cabin’s location, and considering the difficulty of tracking down Adam Cain, Nigel decided to take care of his Kroekus problem first.

He entered the cabin unescorted, and was once again taken by the modest appointments found in the personal lifestyle Kroekus practiced. He’d noticed this in the past, even when the Silean sat at the pinnacle of power within the Expansion. The creature collected power and wealth not so he could reap the personal rewards of such, but rather as an internal test of wills. It was him against everyone else, and in his struggle to defeat his inner demons, no one before him been more successful.

But now Nigel found the fat alien punishing the mattress of a modest-size bed, as he sat waiting with calm resignation for what fate would deliver. The Silean was over one hundred-fifty years old, which placed him on the other side of middle age for his race. Not counting some outside catastrophe, Kroekus had many more years ahead of him before the ravages of old-age would claim him through natural processes.

Nigel McCarthy was to be the catastrophe that would cheat Kroekus out of his remaining years.

“So, my old friend, we meet again,” said Nigel. “I see you lost a little weight while a guest of the Juireans.”

“An unfortunate happenstance which I have been attempting to remedy, yet I believe by your presence here, I may fall short of my goal.”

“Sorry about that, old chap, but we all have our jobs to do.”

Nigel moved to the stateroom’s food processing station, and finding it was still in operation, called up a stout ale. After the beverage had been dispensed, he savored its dark amber color and took a long swig. “Not as good as they make at The Old Coffee House in Soho, but considering how far I am from there, it’s not too bad.”

“You do realize Adam Cain is going to kill you.” Kroekus made the statement as clear and unemotional as he would when stating his own name. In his mind, there was no doubt as to its truthfulness.

“That may be so, Kroekus; if anyone could do it, it would be him.” Nigel drained the beer and set the glass on the counter. “But it won’t be today, I’m afraid.”

“I had envisioned a glorious death-match to be held between the two of you," Kroekus said. "Two of the mightiest warriors in recent history battling it out to the death, hand-to-hand. Can I not still arrange that for the two of you? Killing me will be no challenge, and I do know how much Humans enjoy a good challenge."

 "You know, that is not far off from my own fantasy conclusion to this chapter in the series; however, as I grow older now and with so much more to lose, I think I'll pass. My ego has been tempered recently to the point where I don't risk my future on some temporary gratification."

"So will I die or be taken prisoner…or be set free? You know I can offer you all my wealth in exchange for my life.”

“I do appreciate the offer, mate, but seeing that I’m now about to become the emperor of a galaxy, I don’t think wealth if going to matter much anymore, not when I can claim entire worlds as my personal playgrounds.”

“Then possibly your prisoner, as a trophy to your domination over me?”

“You are the consummate salesman, are you not, Kroekus of Silea? You know how to touch the nerves and press the buttons of all your customers. What you just said does make sense, and is something I’m going to do—just not with you.”

The smile vanished from Nigel’s face and he stepped in closer to Kroekus. The alien recoiled, leaning back on the bed with his massive stomach now forming a berm between his head and the Human. “You betrayed me, Kroekus!” Nigel shouted over the protruding stomach. “Even though I have managed quite well in spite of that, you were supposed to have joined me in the Cloud as a partner, not as an enemy. And even worse than that, seeing how long you've been preparing the Polimors for this war, I see you never intended for us to rule together. I was simply being used to help create tension between the Clans, and once your superior force took over the galaxy, I was to be discarded, like the bones from your last, disgustingly large meal.”

“I displayed my confidence in your abilities when I sent you to Alic Kiran. For that you should be grateful.”

“Grateful; are you serious? You were setting me up to fail. And as far as my abilities are concerned, like everyone else, you have again underestimated them.”

Nigel turned his back to Kroekus. “As I said, I do want a trophy prisoner as a reward for my efforts here, yet because of your betrayal, that trophy cannot be you.”

He turned to face Kroekus again, but this time after removing a foot-long tube from his utility belt. “Do you know what this is?”

“Of course,” said the Silean. “It is an electronic sword.”

“Correct.” Nigel pressed a button on the rod and the blade extended outward two feet from the handle, tapering to a pinpoint that glowed with a pale blue shimmer. “There’s an imaginary weapon on back on Earth called a light-saber that was popular in the movies a long time ago. This weapon comes the closest to that, with an electric charge creating over a thousand degrees running along the microscopic leading edge of the blade. There is very little that can resist it—”

“Such as Silean flesh.”

“Bingo, as they say in America!”

“And what is to become of my head?”

“Well, since we’ve been talking about trophies, I’m sure I can think of something appropriate.”

Kroekus sat forward once again. He was wearing a typical Silean-style gold and blue shirt with a high collar; he folded down the collar, revealing his foot-wide, fleshy neck.“I am told this will not hurt.”

Nigel smiled. “Oh, I wouldn’t count on that.”

The Human then reached out with his left hand, grabbing Kroekus by the hair on his head and pulled up, causing the neck to stretch out even further. And then with the blade in his right hand, Nigel McCarthy began to slowly slice through the soft flesh of the Silean, taking a full thirty seconds to complete his task. Kroekus screamed and thrashed about violently, until he could scream or thrash no more. And then the room fell silent.

Nigel McCarthy now hoisted his trophy high in the air, in true gladiator fashion, before tossing the bloody orb onto the bed.

He would send someone to retrieve the head of Kroekus; but right now he had to go find Adam Cain.

********

Adam had moved further along the Level 19 until he reached the end, at the mess hall for this part of the ship. There were five such dining areas on the Goliath, each capable of feeding a thousand crewmembers at a time, so the room was huge.

The defense of the level had taken place elsewhere, near the elevators and stairways, so the eating area was relatively undisturbed. Three corridors feed into the room, and Adam could cover them all from inside the serving room. There was a long half-wall facing into the expanse of the dining area, with a heavy metal shelf where food would be laid out. Adam stationed himself at the forward end of the partition and unslung the Xan-fi flash rifle from around his back.

Earlier, as he had fought the alien invaders, he had used only the MK and his hands; even so, the rifle only had the charge pack it carried plus two spares on his utility belt. The MK was drained, no power packs remaining.

He reasoned he could hold out here for the first couple of assault surges before he’d run out of charge for the rifle—that was if they didn’t come in lobbing concussion grenades. CG’s were often the best way of clearing a room of resistance and Nigel would know that.

His only real concern at the moment was how could he get close enough to Nigel McCarthy to take him out? Even if it cost Adam his own life, he would consider that a fair trade. Yet barricading himself in this massive dining room would afford him cover and a chance to fend off the enemy for a while, yet it didn’t guarantee a face-to-face with Nigel.

Adam had a couple of CG’s himself, and he knew if he could detonate one pressed hard against Nigel’s gut that the resulting explosion could still kill. But he didn’t see Nigel giving him that opportunity. Even if he surrendered, he would be searched thoroughly before he could get near to Nigel. And he didn't have the time or the material to build a remote-detonated device.

Nigel would use the still-functioning cameras within the ship to find him, and then direct his Human team to his location. Tackling a dozen or more aliens at a time was one thing; going up against that many Humans was another.

After discarding the bomb idea, Adam had to find another way of killing Nigel McCarthy.

The engines! Adam knew the mighty starship didn't have self-destruct capability—he'd asked about that earlier—yet it did possess the most-powerful gravity drive in two galaxies. Yet with the outer section of the ring portals damaged could a gravity-well even be created within the confines of the Goliath—

And then it dawned on him: What about the internals?

But not as a last resort, but as a weapon?

He kicked himself for not thinking of this earlier. The ship still had internal gravity, so that meant the generators for these miniature black holes were still operating. And they were located near the main engine room. In order to create localized gravity throughout the entire ship, the dozen or so internals running the length of the ship had to create their singularities off the ship, just below the lowest deck. The gravity for the Goliath was set at what was essentially Juirean-standard, and was within the tolerances of the majority of alien species, both in the Milky Way and also here in Tanic.

If he could get to the main controls, he could crank up the gravity throughout the ship to such a point where Nigel’s alien troops would be incapacitated. And it couldn’t be set just to Human-standard. He would have to go higher, to a point where the Humans would also be affected, including Nigel McCarthy and his merry band of followers.

Could he struggle against such an increase in gravity and still be able to function? The answer came from the fact that during his seven month trip to the Cloud, he had spent most of it living in gravity equal to one-hundred twenty-five percent of Earth normal. His muscles were attuned to the increase, something that had just manifested itself when he took on twenty alien invaders at the stairwell an hour earlier.

Adjusting the gravity to that degree—and maybe even a little higher—would certainly wreak havoc on the aliens aboard. It might even slow down Nigel’s Humans, if not Nigel himself. Even if it didn't, there was another advantage to his plan. Since the Goliath had centrally-control internal gravity, Nigel and his men would have to come to the generator room to put the gravity back to normal, and that would be when Adam would pounce.

The only tiny glitch in his plan was that the engine room was located eighteen levels below him, and by now, the entire ship was overrun by Nigel’s troops. Somehow he had to make his way there, and through thousands of aliens all out looking for him.

He thought of his options. He could fight his way there, but that would leave a trail of dead aliens behind him, broadcasting his final destination to Nigel. So fighting his way there was out of the question.

Could he make it there in the ductwork of the ship, as they always seemed to be able to do in the movies? That he doubted. And besides, with the size of the Goliath and all the airtight bulkheads between here and the generator room, he would have to crawl the equivalent of twenty miles or more.

So he had to get there without being seen.

Or more correctly, without Adam Cain being seen.

Adam thought back to his short shopping excursion on Vicor, right at the beginning of this latest adventure. All he'd been able to procure in town while waiting for Nurick to show up with the power-mods had been a few items for his food processor. It hadn't been much; some master paste ingredients, along with an assortment of food coloring. The processors could simulate just about any taste, but without the proper coloring, the experience could be quite unsettling.

So somewhere in this huge kitchen there had to be color dyes.

After five minutes of tearing though storage holds, drawers and cabinets, Adam found what he was looking for. He took it to the nearest restroom—there were six near the mess hall—and set to work.

Nigel and Adam were of the same body type—stocky and naturally muscular—although the Brit was a good two inches taller. Still, they both had blue eyes and square jaws. So Adam mixed a little of the red food coloring with some yellow and brown, and after a little experimentation came up with a passable orange. He dabbed a cloth towel in the mixture and then set about applying the coloring to the blond hair on his head.

From the early video conversation he had with Nigel, he knew his hair was shorter than Adam's, but he was sure none of the aliens would notice.

Next he took some of the brown dye, and using the tip from one of the color bottles, proceeded to give his face an ample and obvious supply of freckles.

After the freckles, he thought back to the video again and tried to remember what Nigel was wearing when he boarded the Goliath. He had to duplicate the outfit he was wearing, as best he could, even though there was a very good chance that ninety-nine percent of the invaders hadn't seen their leader that morning to know what he was wearing. Still, Adam had to make the effort. Fortunately, from what he remembered, Nigel was wearing jeans and a light brown jacket covering an unseen shirt except for its brown collar.

Adam was wearing jeans already, and a quick search of the galley revealed a number of dark green jackets that were part of the uniform of the Goliath. Adam only wore a form-fitting dark green combat t-shirt, now stained in alien blood.

He removed the t-shirt, and was pleasantly surprised to find that the green jackets were reversible, with a lighter green interior. He tried on the jacket. He would only be trying to fool Nigel's troops, who were themselves all dressed in an assortment of mismatched outfits. Yet they had just fought against thousands of crewmembers all wearing the dark green uniforms of the Goliath. The light green of the inside-out jacket would set him apart from the crew.

He studied his image in the bathroom's mirror. This just might work. Now he spent a few seconds practicing his Cockney accent.

At long last, it was show time.

Chapter 29

Adam was hoping that the hastily culled together assault force of Nigel's would not be that intimate with their leader, especially seeing that he had only recently—within the past couple of weeks—risen to public prominence. All they would see was an arrogant, orange haired Human, which, naturally, had to be Nigel McCarthy. Who else could it be?

He now walked briskly down the deserted corridor outside the galley, and not more than fifty yards down encountered his first batch of Nigel's raiders. He went unarmed, not even wearing a utility belt, hoping to add to his air of superiority and confidence.

The aliens looked at him with curiosity, yet none challenged him.

As he neared the midpoint of the corridor, and closer to the elevators, he began to encounter literally hundreds of Nigel's aliens. Finally someone said something.

"Lord McCarthy, is that you?" said one of the older aliens, wearing what Adam knew to be a Security Corps uniform.

"It is," said Adam with the thickest British accent he could conjure up. "I have come to survey your progress here. You are...?"

"Sub-Commander Rislof, my Lord," the alien answered. "We have this section of the deck secure to the forward bulkhead. The problem we are having, however, is the sheer number of prisoners and what to do with them. Normally this many crew would be distributed throughout the ship, and not all on one level."

"That is all very interesting, Sub-Commander, yet I have another task for you."

"Yes, my Lord?"

"I'm needed desperately in lower Generator Room Eight, and with that bloody Adam Cain still loose on the ship, I will need a security escort. Choose ten of your best fighters and then you and them accompany me to the generator room. You have done well here, Sub-Commander. I will note that when I make my next round of battlefield promotions. Now gather your troops. I have no time to waste, mate."

With enthusiasm, Rislof assembled Adam's/Nigel's escort and they set off making their way through throngs of alien invaders. Adam had been right about the number of fighters Nigel would throw into the cause. Even with so many dead—on both sides—the ship was still packed with aliens on every level. The Goliath had a normal compliment of five thousand, which as anyone who's spent time aboard a military naval vessel knows are always overcrowded, even under normal conditions. What Adam was experiencing aboard the Goliath went way beyond overcrowding. He had to smile slightly at the thought that Nigel had fully expected most of these aliens to be killed by now, yet his offer of amnesty to the remainder of the Goliath crew had spared far more than he was expecting, and setting up this logistics nightmare for him and his men.

This overabundance of aliens, along with Adam's/Nigel's public notoriety, caused another problem. Nearly all the aliens wanted to get a glimpse of their new Lord of the Clan as he moved between levels. And the news traveled fast that their leader was among them.

So it was inevitable that sooner or later one of Nigel's Human-Hundred would hear of his presence nearby and come to join him. That person was Darius Owens, a thirty-eight-year-old black man from Portland, Oregon. He had served briefly in the U.S. Army, before heading off into space to join the Expansion military when the Humans were in control. When they left, he stayed behind and went to work for Kroekus doing a number of odd jobs, yet all involving strong-arm tactics using his natural Human abilities. The Silean then offered him an unbelievable amount of credits to join Nigel's expedition, and he took it.

Now he would hook up with McCarthy and see if he could do anything more interesting than mop-up duties, now that the battle was over.

********

Adam was pressed into an ever-tighter envelop of alien escorts, as his adoring masses grew more numerous with each passing minute. The success of his ruse was more than he counted on, and now he knew he was attracting too much attention.

And that's when he heard a voice call out to him—or more correctly—to Nigel.

"Yo, man, wait up!"

The language was definitely English—American English— and had to be coming from one of Nigel's Hundred.

Adam pressed on, acting like he hadn't heard the call.

"Dude, slow down, and tell these geeks to let me through."

Adam turned to one of his escorts and asked for the alien's weapon. Without question, the creature offered it up; Adam clicked it to Level-One.

The Human approached from behind, and was upon him before Adam had a chance to turn away. "Nigel—or should I say Your Majesty."

Adam turned and stepped up to the Human, with the flash weapon pressed firmly against his chest. Adam's disguise must have been better than he thought, because it took the man a few seconds to realize that this was not Nigel McCarthy, and that what he felt against his chest was the barrel of a flash weapon.

"Relax, soldier," Adam said in a low growl. "This is set at Level-One, so it will burn a hole all the way through your body."

"Muther—"

"Let's not cause a scene. Now get in front of me, and stay close. And remember, this adoring horde thinks I'm their new messiah. One word from me and you're toast."

"I hope you didn't mean anything racial by calling me toast."

"Hadn't even crossed my mind. Now get moving."

********

Nigel McCarthy's datapad chimed and when he pressed the button the face of Declan Sims showed on the screen.

"Do you want me to meet you at the generator room? I have Russ and Williams with me, too. So what's up?"

Nigel blinked a couple of times while shaking his head. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about. What generator room, and why would I be going there?"

"I thought it was Gen Room Eight, from what I'm being told. And I don't know why you're going there. You tell me."

"First of all, I'm not going to any generator room—number eight or any other number. And secondly, I still don't know what the bloody hell you're talking about. I'm on the bridge."

Nigel saw Sims' expression suddenly grow very serious. "So you're not on Level-Two and on your way Gen Room Eight?"

The two Humans shared matching sour looks on their respective datapad screens. "Cain, isn't it?" said Sims without a question mark.

"That blood bastard. Why is he going to Gen Room Eight?"

Nigel was unfamiliar with the majority of the systems aboard the Goliath, and definitely at a loss as to the layout of the ship, so he ordered one of the captured bridge crew to call up a schematic of Gen Room Eight. The moment he saw the room's designation, he knew exactly what Cain was up to.

"Dec, get as many of your men to that room. That's where internal gravity is regulated."

"He's going to turn off the gravity?"

"No, he's going to increase it."

Next Nigel opened the ship-wide intercom. "Listen up everyone, this is Nigel McCarthy. Adam Cain is on or near Level-Two and heading for Generator Room Eight. He is posing as me, so stop him. And all the Humans onboard, get to the generator room as soon as possible. Don't let him get in there!"

********

Adam's entourage began to slow as Nigel's voice boomed from the speakers. The aliens around him began to frown and look on him with suspicion.

Adam pressed the barrel of the flash weapon in the ribs of his Human escort. "You tell them," Adam whispered. "Go ahead."

"That was Adam Cain just trying to confuse you," Darius said. "This here is the real Nigel McCarthy."

Several of the aliens nodded. "This Adam Cain sure is deceitful, is he not" asked the alien Rislof."

"More than you can know, Sub-Commander," replied Adam. "Now let's hurry. The room is right down the corridor and there's no telling what else that bloody bastard will try next." He shoved the Human and the entourage began to move again.

"There they are!" someone yelled in English.

"Got 'em."

There was a commotion taking place at both ends of the corridor, with Gen Room Number Eight right in the middle. "What the hell are you doing? That's Cain, not McCarthy. Stop them!"

Sub-Commander Rislof stopped in his tracks and turned to Adam. This time there was no doubt in his eyes, only anger, along with a mix of fear.

"Sorry," Adam said with a smirk. And then he smashed his left fist into the alien's face.

Darius took the opportunity to lay an elbow of his own into Adam's ribs. The flash weapon ignited, but missed the Human and struck another of the alien escort. A Level-One bolt, hitting a soft-tissue alien, was not a pretty sight.

But Adam now had other things on his mind, like how to keep the big black man from beating his brains out. After taking a couple of solid blows to the head, Adam fell back into the crowd of aliens, many of which still hadn't come to comprehend what was going on. Several tried to help him to his feet.

Which only put him in range of the next fist flying in from the big Human. Adam had no choice. With the flash weapon still in his grip, he let loose with another bolt. Darius Owens took the blast directly in his chest and fell to the deck.

There was only one Human Adam was interested in killing, and it hadn't been this man. But now he had to get his mind back in the game. There were other Humans in the corridor, and they would surely kill him if given the chance. And then there were the dozens of aliens all around, many of whom now knew the truth about the orange-haired Human. Weapons began to be drawn.

Adam opened up with his MK, cutting down three aliens before realizing he still had it set at Level-One. Even on a full charge, there were typically only five shots available at that level, and he had no idea what the charge life was on the power pack when he got the weapon from the escort. He quickly set it down to Level-Two while diving at the three dead aliens on the deck and grabbing another weapon.

A flash bolt hit him from behind—a Level-Two. He screamed out in pain from the burn, but then turned and sent five quick shots into the crowd, firing two weapons at once. His first bolt launcher went dry, so he tossed it aside; he turned and ran down the corridor toward the generator room, while firing with the other weapon behind him.

Several of the aliens had run for cover and were only now regrouping when Adam entered the open doorway to his destination. He was greeted by no less than four poorly aimed flash bolts.

He fell for cover behind a large piece of heavy equipment built into the deck and took aim at two of the exposed aliens in the room. His aim was true, and they both went down. But then, so did his bolt launcher.

"Piece of crap!" he yelled. He had always hated the limited capacity of flash weapons, and now with more aliens beginning to enter the room, he longed for his trusty FN SCAR close quarters combat weapon and a full 20-round magazine. Damn, with that, he could really have some fun....

He looked around at the room he was in, knowing that this was where the internal gravity was set, yet he had no idea where the controls were, or even what they looked like. Would it be something he would have to call up on a computer screen and manipulate that way? Or was it a lever of some kind?

There was a bank of computer monitors off to his right, and so he hurried off that way, staying in a crouch behind a massive turbine of some kind.

"Well I'll be damned," he said as he approached the console. There was a long lever, set in the wall between two dark monitors, and with words written above it. Fortunately, the words were in Juirean, and even though he didn't understand a lot of Juirean, he did recognize the word for gravity. It was written on all their engines—including those built by the Formilians. He didn't know what the other words meant, but a large lever with the word gravity written above it would have to do.

"Over there! There he is!"

The English voices were close, and he felt the heat from a powerful flash bolt whiz past his head. It was a Level-One, so the Humans were close—and he knew their aim would be true the closer they got.

Going for broke, Adam leapt in the light gravity that currently enveloped the Goliath, sailing ten feet through the air toward the large lever. He landed hard on top of the console, just as another flash bolt burned a six-inch diameter hole in the equipment bank only a few inches from his head. Sparks and shrapnel flew off the wall, landing on his face and setting off a number of painful burns.

But then Adam grabbed the lever and shoved it upwards—up for more gravity, right?

Wrong! He suddenly felt his stomach rise up into his throat, and found the action on the lever had sent his now weightless body crashing back into the console.

He heard whoops and hollering behind him as a dozen aliens—along with a couple of Humans—all lost their footing and leverage. Many were now suspended in midair, flailing about and trying to reach any handhold they could.

Still holding onto the lever, Adam now stood on the console and began to press down on the controller. He braced himself with his left hand to keep from lifting off the console, but then his weight increased...and increased...and increased.

He heard bodies thump to the metal deck, but didn't bother to look. Instead he kept pressing down, until the thumps had turned to painful moans. And then he pressed a little more.

Adam felt like he was carrying two hundred pounds on his shoulders when he finally let go of the lever. He struggled to climb down from the console, feeling every muscle in his body crying out in anguish. This was more than he was used to aboard the Pegasus—way more—and yet he was still able to stagger toward the entrance to the generator room.

All the aliens he passed were on the deck, writhing in slow motion and moaning, while some stared at him with bloodshot eyes. Then he came upon his first Human.

The man was on his knees and lifting a flash weapon in his direction. Adam sidestepped the aim, and when it went off, the bolt passed harmlessly to his right. He stepped up the man and took the weapon from his hand.

With incredible effort, the other Human stood up, the veins in his neck bulging from the effort. "This won't stop me," he said defiantly; his eyes were also bloodshot by this time.

"No, it won't," Adam groaned. "But this will." He clicked the flash weapon to its lowest setting, and he then stepped to the side of the exhausted Human and placed the barrel of the weapon at the base of his neck. He pulled the trigger, knowing that a low-level shot like this, when applied to the right area, would render a Human unconscious, yet without any lasting damage. The man would stay asleep for four hours or more. And by that time Adam Cain would either be victorious—or dead.

Taking the weapon with him, Adam struggled to return to the gravity control lever. Although it seemed like a good idea at the time to leave it on this heavy setting, in reality, it was even too much for him. He backed it down some, until he was at least able to function at something close to twice his normal weight.

The aliens would still be incapacitated, yet the thirty-odd Humans aboard would now be able to move about, although maybe to a slightly lesser degree than he could with his conditioned muscles, and depending on their own muscle strength. It would certainly be enough to cause him trouble.

But there were only about thirty Humans aboard, as compared to several thousand aliens. That improved his odds, but not by much. After all, these were Humans he would now be fighting.

For a moment, Adam thought of a way of pulling victory from the jaws of defeat: Simply collect every weapon he could, and then walk up and down the decks putting a bolt into the head of every enemy alien he came across. I may actually do that—after I've dealt with Nigel McCarthy.

He would wait in the generator room, setting up a perimeter and preparing to fend off the coming attack by Nigel and his Humans. He knew they had to come here eventually, and so he'd be ready for them.

In the meantime, he took the time to track down the second Human in the room. He wasn't hard to find; he was the person shooting at him.

Even in the harsh gravity, it didn't take much effort to rest an MK on a table and let off a couple of bolts. And that was just what this guy was doing. Adam had to use up too much of his precious energy reserves before he was able to maneuver around the room to get a shot.

Once the deed was done, Adam returned to the area around the gravity control lever, and armed with a half dozen MK's and one Xan-fi rifle, laid down on the metal deck and tried to conserve his energy. This was exhausting, just breathing and trying to do even the simplest of movements. He didn't know how long he'd be able to maintain his strength, but what he did know was that Nigel McCarthy was having an even harder time dealing with the increased gravity. The dude was like twenty years older than Adam....

********

"Hasn't anyone gotten to him yet?" Nigel yelled into the datapad.

"It ain't that easy," Rickie Davies panted on the screen. "He's barricaded himself in the generator room with enough weapons for a small army. We're down three men already."

"This can't go on much longer; how the bloody hell is he able to handle this?"

"He doesn't have to move between decks. But there's ten of us just about there, although we're going to be dog tired when we do."

"Then don't try anything fancy, just blast his ass." Nigel didn't care at this point if Cain was taken prisoner or not. He just needed to get the gravity back to normal. Already he was on the verge of a heart attack.

Carlos Valenzuela was the closest thing Nigel had to a second-in-command on the Goliath. The man was only twenty-nine and in top-notch shape. Yet even he was having trouble dealing with the oppressive gravity.

"You want me to get down there? I think I can make it."

"No, I need you here, just in case." Nigel didn't have to explain what the just in case entailed. "What I really have to do is get off this ship."

"There are latchpods on fifteen. I'll help you."

"Make it quick.

With Valenzuela's assistance, Nigel made it down five flights of stairs and to the first pod access point they could find. Nigel was sweating profusely by then, and his breathing was severely labored. As with most of Nigel's Humans, they had emergency medical training, so Carlos could read the signs. The problem for both of them was that Valenzuela wasn't much better off and they had no medical cure for gravity equivalent to a constant 2G's.

Even in the pod, the transport vessel was subject to the gravity in the immediate vicinity of the Goliath. The alien pilot was unconscious by now—or dead. But Carlos was able to close the pressure hatch and separate from the hull of the huge ship. When he did, the hole in the hull exploded outward from the sudden rush of atmosphere inside the craft. However, moments later, interior pressure doors closed, sealing off that part of Level 15 from the rest of the ship.

The latchpod fell away from the Goliath on chemical drive, and as the distance increased, the gravitational influence of the interior wells decreased geometrically. Within seconds, the pair of Humans were in zero gravity and enjoying every second of it.

"What now, boss?" Carlos asked.

It was taking McCarthy longer to recover, but soon he was able to get his breath back and speak.

"That bastard, I'm going to rip his guts out and have them for breakfast."

"We've got to get 'em first. And that means going back aboard."

"Yes, but we can wrap around and come up from underneath without having to make the twenty-deck journey. The med kits aboard the pod should have some adrenalin shots in them. Let's shoot ourselves up and then not linger too long before reaching the generator room once we go back aboard. It's only about fifty meters from one of the open docking bays."

"Should we coordinate with the others?"

"No, let them try to get inside on their own. They might be able to wear Cain out before we get there. Others may call the guy a superman, but he's not. He's just like you and me. He'll reach his limit pretty soon, too. Now let's do all we can to regain our strength and then go make one more push. I'm going to get that rat-bastard even if it kills me."

Carlos grunted. "It almost did already. You may not get a second chance, not against Cain."

********

Dang, don't these guys ever get tired?

Eight of the Nigel's Humans had eventually made it to the generator room, and even though the slow motion battle that took place would have been comical if viewed from afar, on the ground it was an entirely different story.

They had tossed in two concussion grenades, which ended up not having the full impact as expected. Why? Because of the blasted gravity. With twice the gravity, they ended up being half as effective, with the brilliant flash of light being the most damaging to Adam. He recovered quick enough to lay down a powerful barrage of flash rifle fire, taking out four of Nigel's men in the process.

That still left four more to contend with—at least for the time being.

Yet the constant need for quick reactions and intense concentration while in the heat of battle was really taking a heavy toll on him. His attackers could take spells between them, but not Adam. He had to face every threat with all he could muster.

He was almost to the point of not caring anymore, and from the rapid drop off of fire from the others, it appeared as though they were, too. So what happens if everyone just gives up and stops fighting? Who wins?

Adam checked his watch. He'd give it another five minutes, and then he desperately needed some relief. In the meantime, he would see what he could do about eliminating the remaining four Humans outside the generator room. If he could do that, then even a few minutes reprieve from the oppressive gravity before others arrived would help him get back at least some of his energy.

So he crawled along the deck, hidden by massive pieces of machinery, until he could see the doorway clearly. One of Nigel's men was on his knees, yet leaning against the door jam, his mouth open slightly and his bloodshot eyes about to close. There was a Xan-fi flash rifle held loosely in his arms, which Adam wondered if the man even realized he still held. Two other men were seated in the corridor outside, resting on the deck. He didn't see the fourth man.

Adam lay on his stomach and took aim with his own Xan-fi, cradling the barrel in his left hand and with his left elbow planted on the deck. This allowed him some relief from the weight of the weapon, which during normal operations wasn't much because of its plastic construction. But now it felt like he was carrying a five-gallon bucket of paint every time he went to lift the weapon.

He opened fire, striking the man at the doorway first, and then he missed the other two in the corridor with his first shots at them. Fortunately, the pair was so exhausted that their reaction time was virtually non-existent. Adam adjusted his aim and fired again before they could move for cover.

And that's when the fourth man swung around the corner of the doorway and brought his weapon to bear on Adam. Everything was happening in slow motion—even their minds had slowed—so the two combatants took an inordinate amount of time even realizing they were about to engage. Yet with Adam on the floor, and more conditioned to the gravity, he was a split second quicker with his awareness. He got off the first shot, and with the two of them so close to one another, Adam's bolt couldn't help but find its target.

Adam rolled over onto his back and took several deep, labored breaths. Unless others had shown up in the interim, it should now be safe for him to back off on the gravity some, at least enough to regain some of his strength before having to jack it back up again when the rest of the Humans showed up.

All he had to do now was crawl back to the control console.

It seemed like an hour later—rather than the two minutes it actually took—before Adam was back at the gravity control station. He had to gather up every last bit of energy he had just to lift his body into a standing position, enough so he could reach over the console and towards the control lever. Knowing what relief would soon be his, Adam smiled as he reached out his right hand—

Just then, another arm crossed his vision and grasped the lever, shoving it upwards.

At that point, Adam was beyond caring. All he knew was that the incredible weight that had been compressing every inch of his body was now gone. He almost cried, so overcome with joyful emotion as he was. Yet his emotional release and moment of joy was suddenly cut short when his vision next focused on a dark object, growing in size—and heading straight for his face.

In the split second before impact, Adam recognized the object to be a fist, and just beyond it was the smiling face of Nigel McCarthy....

Chapter 30

Not this again, Adam thought as the memories flooded into his consciousness. As with so many times before, he now hesitated opening his eyes, afraid of what he’d find.

Instead, he first listened, seeking clues to his whereabouts and condition; all he found was a deathly silence. Next he consciously inhaled deeply through his nose; nothing particularly revealing from the smell, either. Finally he wiggled his toes and flexed his fingers. He seemed to be all in one piece.

Then when all his other senses had failed him, sight was the only one he had left.

He slowly opened his eyes and found he was lying on his side, a position which afforded him a view of the room he was in. As suspected, it was a cell. However, from first glance, it appeared be a very nice cell, with shiny metal walls and carpeted floors. There was no furniture to be seen in the room—other than the bed he was on—and only a solitary door with a large security lock dominating the right hand side and anchored to the frame.

If his memories hadn’t been intact, he might have confused his cell for a stateroom; granted, a bare-bones stateroom, but livable. Yet the last thing he remembered was the sight of Nigel McCarthy’s massive fist growing ever larger in his vision…and aimed right at Adam’s face.

Sure, a lot of other things could have happened between then and now, things he simply couldn’t remember at the moment, yet being the pragmatist that he was, he doubted it. He feared that in reality the blow had knocked him cold, leaving him at the mercy of his mortal enemy.

The fact that he was waking up in yet another cell did not bode well for his future. He was alive, and in a circumstance like this, that wasn’t always the best outcome.

He sat up, finding that was on the solitary piece of furniture in the room—a twin size bed with a decent mattress. He was groggy and his head throbbed, but other than that, he appeared to be fine.

Except that he was in a locked room with only a bed.

As it was with the countless other times he’d recovered from a bout of forced unconsciousness, Adam found he had to relieve himself, yet being in a room with only a bed, he quickly realized that could be a problem.

With a little effort he managed to stand and began exploring the room in more detail. To his relief—literally—he found a secondary door, barely noticeable and inset in the wall at the base of the bed. It was operated by a pressure latch, and when he pressed the door, the panel recessed into the wall slightly before popping back out with a click. He pulled the door open and found a simple commode and pedestal sink inside the small room. There was also dispenser for paper towels, like that found in a public restroom, and after he had done his deed, Adam splashed water on his face and dried himself with the paper towels.

All in all, not the worst cell he’d been in; in fact, probably the nicest. Yet it was the implications of his captivity that now occupied his mind.

McCarthy had spared his life when he could have just as easily jettisoned his comatose body out of an airlock. His then frozen body would have floated in the cold vacuum of space until the end of time, or until it came into contact with the gravity influence of a passing star and fell into its fiery globe.

But Nigel had kept him alive—as he said he would—and knowing the sadistic nature of the Englishman, Adam knew that the good times would soon come to a prolonged and agonizing end.

At the moment, being freeze-dried sounded like a perfectly acceptable alternative, when all things were considered.

Further examination of the room soon revealed a small security camera set flush with the far corner of the ten-foot high ceiling, and which would provide a view of the entire room, including the door. Adam smiled and waved at the camera, confident that it would be monitored twenty-four/seven.

He was sure Nigel would be chomping at the bit for him to wake up, just so the real party could begin, and as usual, Adam’s intuition was spot-on. Less than five minutes later, the security lock made a whirling sound and the door sprung outward.

The smiling and intimidating hulk of Nigel McCarthy entered. Outside in the corridor, Adam could see two other Humans standing guard. They made eye contact with him, showing none of the good humor Nigel was exhibiting. These were serious people with only one purpose in life: to keep Adam Cain from escaping. And they were probably some of the survivors from the Goliath and pissed about the loss of their friends.

“Adam, my old mate, I’m glad you survived without too much damage. You know I’ve hit so many of these bloody aliens out here that I can’t remember a single time when it didn't result in crushed skulls and a body bag. It’s good to find a creature that can take a punch.”

And with that, Adam was hardly surprised when Nigel twisted to his left and landed a powerhouse right to the side of his jaw. Adam was spun around by the blow and fell onto the bed before rolling off the far end and onto the carpeted floor.

Momentarily stunned, he shook off the cobwebs and staggered to his feet, while staying as far away from Nigel as he could in the tiny room. It didn’t matter. Nigel stepped forward and planted a sledgehammer-like fist into his midsection.

Adam gasped and buckled over. After catching his breath, he stood up again, while covering his stomach with both his arms. He could tell there was blood draining from his mouth, and his vision was growing blurry from a rapidly swelling right eye.

“So dis is aow it’s gonna be?” he grunted. His lips were swelling, too, making it hard to enunciate properly.

The grin on McCarthy’s face had stretched to a seemingly impossible width. “That’s right,” he said with glee. “As long as you last, I’m going to use you as my real-life heavy bag, and with every blow, I will recall an instance over the past twenty years when you have ruined my plans or made my personal life more difficult. If you remember, by this time in my life I was supposed to be the ruler of the Earth, placed there and supported by my Klin benefactors. Instead, I’ve been on the run for a decade or more, thanks to you. And now I’m here, in this godforsaken galaxy, and having to spend all my time doing what I do best—conquer and control. Don’t get me wrong; I love my job. It’s just that I was hoping by this age to be retired and collecting my government pension.”

McCarthy feigned another hit, causing Adam to flinch and cover his head with his arms. Nigel laughed. “It’s not going to matter whether you cover up or not Adam, so either stand there and take it or I’ll have your hands tied and then have my way with you. Over time, you’ll forget about your defensive moves as your mind accepts the pain as a habit. And I won’t let you die or inflict too much damage to your brain. I want you aware of every blow and not go wacky on me.”

He then waved a hand indicating the stark cell they were in. “I will keep you aboard this ship and orbiting Anicett, since I know how skilled you are at escaping land-based lockups. I spend considerable time up here simply for the gravity I can control. I cannot afford to let the weak gravity of Anicett affect me physically. And now I’ll have another reason to spend more time up here—you.”

Adam saw Nigel’s expression suddenly grow serious. “You and your damned gravity. You know, you almost pulled off a bloody miracle aboard the Goliath. And you might like to know that Kroekus is dead. That I took care of personally, and I now have his head on display in my private office down on the planet." And then Nigel snorted. "And you expected to best me in the arena? Yes, I heard of that supposed death-match Kroekus had planned for us. Although I must admit, going one-on-one with you would answer a lot of questions; however, I’m also enough of a realist to know there would be a very good chance I could lose. You’re twenty years younger and more recently-trained. I’ve been out of practice against worthy opponents for quite some time, and I can say all this without my ego getting in the way.” The smile returned to his face. “And I do prefer this outcome to the alternative.”

To Adam’s immense relief, Nigel turned and went to the door without punctuating his visit with another hit to his body. Yet before leaving, Nigel turned back to Adam and said, “Get settled in, mate. It’s going to be a very long and painful ordeal for you. This is only the beginning.”

Chapter 31

Adam lost track of time, although through it all the parting words of Nigel McCarthy remained forever etched on his mind.

It had been just the beginning, and now countless times later, since that first day in the cell with Nigel, he wondered when it would end.

At first, Adam tried to scratch the number of passing days in the hard metal walls of the cell, based on the meals brought to him. But when that didn’t work, he tried making impressions in a sheet of paper towel with his fingernails. But then the guards confiscated his paper towel.

Since the light in the cell was always set at the same low intensity, he couldn’t tell the passing of time that way either, since there was no distinction from night and day. And other than the meals and the occasional restocking of the paper towel dispenser, the only other constant in his life were the erratically-timed visits from Nigel McCarthy.   

There seemed to be no pattern to when Nigel would show up and beat on him for a few minutes, so Adam would sleep most of the time, until the lock whirled and Nigel would step in.

At first, Adam tried to exercise during these lull periods, in an effort to keep his body in top shape so he could better weather Nigel’s visits. But that routine soon gave way to lethargic resignation to his situation. And Nigel had been right. Now when the lock would whirl, Adam would simply climb off the bed and stand like a zombie, docile and defenseless, as Nigel pummeled him.

Nigel soon spent most of the time hitting Adam in the stomach and lower extremities, afraid to strike his head due to Adam’s deteriorating mental condition. He wanted his prisoner aware, and not some brainless vegetable. However, once in a while Nigel would still delight in placing the occasional headshot, if only at half-strength.

On very rare occasions, a Human doctor would come and examine him. Before he didn’t care any longer, Adam figured the doctor was one Nigel’s Hundred Humans. After all, where would you find a Human doctor this far from home?

And so time passed; Adam had no idea how much, yet by then time was his enemy. He was beyond the point of suicide, his mind so dull and addled that he doubted he could even conjure up the creativity to figure out an effective way of doing it.

********

The daily meal had been delivered and consumed, and now Adam lay on the bed in a fetal position, asleep, yet not dreaming. Even those had subsided, to a point where he couldn’t even remember the last dream he had.

His cell was aboard a starship in orbit around the planet Anicett, and occasionally the hull would rumble as generators were run up and tested, or when the ship would make trips to destinations unknown. During those trips, Adam’s existence became even more excruciating than normal, with Nigel aboard constantly and never tiring of his sessions with Adam.

So when the hull rumbled again, Adam paid no attention, and when the lock whirled several moments later, he obediently climbed off the bed and stood in the center of the room waiting for the door to open. With mealtime over, this could only mean yet another visit from Nigel McCarthy. Adam would welcome the coming pain. It was the only thing that proved he was still alive.

Yet when the door opened this time no one entered immediately. Adam didn’t notice nor would have cared if he did. He just stood near the bed, oblivious to everything around him.

Now there was movement around him, and hands were placed on his body. He was pressed into a sitting position on the bed as more figures entered the room. This was not the doctor, nor was it the attendant for the towel dispenser.

But neither was in McCarthy. These were gentle, caring hands now upon him. This was an experience so foreign to him that it was the very nature of its uniqueness that caused him to fight out of his stupor and struggle for awareness.

There were voices in the room, as well, and he noticed someone was crying. Even though his eyes were open, he couldn’t see, at least not clearly. But then he had a vague memory that there was more to see than just the plate of food or the way to the bathroom and his bed. He found a small reservoir of willpower still hidden deep within his mind, and soon the scene around him began to come into focus.

Images began to form, and this was when he had the depressing feeling that this could all be could just one of his very rare dreams and not reality. He decided that it had to be a dream, because what he now saw couldn’t possibly be real.

There was a figure kneeling before him and a face only a few feet away, framed by a strange yellow glow. Another figure moved into his field of vision, this one more angular and dark. His vision cleared more, and this was when he knew for sure that he was dreaming.

Even then, he still smiled; the dream was a refreshing reprieve from reality. He would savor it for a moment, knowing that at any time it could fade away.

But then the dream brought physical sensation to his face. There were fingers gently wiping away the tears that had escaped his vacant eyes, as the emotions of the dream overwhelmed him. There was something odd about this, and when the faces of the two figures kneeling before him came into full focus, he found he was staring into the impossible.

They were the faces of Sherri Valentine and Riyad Tarazi, both with tears flooding down their cheeks.

“Oh my god, Adam, can you hear me?” The voice was soft, yet desperate. It also had that unique, accented quality he’d not heard in a very long time. The voice helped shock him into the present.

He reached out his hands and found the warm flesh of her face and the silkiness of her hair. “I’m dreaming,” he said in a raspy whisper; he couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken.

The image of Sherri Valentine now broke down into uncontrollable sobs, as the darker face of Riyad Tarazi leaned in closer. “No you’re not, my friend. We’re here; Sherri and me, along with Andy Tobias, and even Kaylor and Jym.”

Suddenly he was aware of a whole mass of people closing in on him, hugging him tight and all speaking at once. Even though his body was battered and bruised, he was accustomed to the pain, and so he didn’t cry out as he was caressed.

“This isn’t a dream?”

“No Adam, it’s not.”

Adam now looked around at the others. He saw Riyad Tarazi, the former Fringe Pirate and his long-time running buddy, along with his old SEAL commanding officer, Admiral Andy Tobias. Next his eyes landed on the face of Kaylor, with its distinctly alien features, including two inch-long appendages dangling from his earlobes—and crowding in to be noticed was the fur-covered bear-like face of Jym. Kaylor and Jym were the first two aliens he’d encountered after being thrust into this strange universe against his will; he often wished they had been the last.

And then he felt full, warm lips press against his. When it was over, he was staring at the unbelievably beautiful face of Sherri Valentine, his ex-lover and long-time companion.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Riyad moved into his vision again. “I got a call from your friend Dracus a few months back; said you might need my help. And since you once risked your life to rescue me, I’m just returning the favor—and I’ll be damned if I couldn’t talk all the others out of joining me.”

Adam began to cry, falling into Sherri’s arms as he did. She cradled him with strong arms that never felt so comforting.

And then he heard a voice say: “Let’s get going. A longer reunion can wait until we’re off this ship and safely on our way back to the Cain.”

He was lifted up and guided out of the cell. There was a controlled panic now in the movements of those around him, as they rushed down corridors and through doorways. Adam was only half aware of all this, as a large part of his mind was still having a hard time believing it was real.

They entered a small shuttle, where four others were waiting, including two Rigorian soldiers and the alien Dracus. There was another Human standing next to him; young, with fiery red hair and brilliant blue eyes. Adam momentarily locked his gaze on the young man, feeling as though he recognized him. But soon he was guided further into the shuttle and placed into a comfortable chair behind the command station and belted in.

“What now?” he said to no one in particular.

Riyad Tarazi stood before him, tall, dark and determined. “The team is back together, my friend, and as before, there’s nothing that can stop us, not in the Milky Way Galaxy and certainly not here. Now…we put an end to Nigel McCarthy—so we can all go home again.”

Chapter 32

The X’zolic Flame Festival was held every ten years at the Temple of Gor on the planet Jenic. It was a lavish affair, held over the seventeen-hour night of the X-zolic Season—the longest night of the decade. The natives of Jenic placed a lot of significance on the ceremony, with over eighteen million of them now gathered on the vast stepped plains of…blah, blah, blah….

Nigel McCarthy stopped listening to his host after the narration had droned on for half an hour. He was bored out of his skull, and even had to make up a hasty explanation about how a yawn was a sign of respect where Nigel came from. However, since yawning was a natural biological occurrence within most species, he was sure the planet’s Simicon—president—didn’t buy the explanation any more than Nigel would have.

Yet Nigel McCarthy was the Lord of the Kiran Clan so the Simicon did not press the issue.

A particular brilliant flash of flame erupted from somewhere down in the valley as the crowd went wild, jolting Nigel back to the present. He felt a shiver run through his body as the scratchy fabric of the ceremonial gown grated against his skin. He was sure he looked ridiculous in the rainbow-colored garment, not to mention the sideways, boat-shaped hat he wore.

He gritted his teeth, while thinking if he ever conquered a galaxy again he would outlaw all such celebrations—or at least pass a decree appointing a surrogate to attend. Yes, that would be a simpler solution. Appoint an official ceremony-attender—and find a creature to fill the post whose species did not have the habit of yawning.

Besides the utter waste of time the trip to Jenic had become, Nigel McCarthy also had a budding galactic war to manage, something a lot more important than watching a lot of gas jets explode in the night sky. Yet even as bored as he was—seated on the vast presentation stage at the entrance to the Temple of Gor—Nigel McCarthy found himself frowning when he spied Simone Dubois and Dinis Grof both rushing towards him from across the stage.

On top of everything else, Nigel was growing weary of the rivalry between the two females, albeit of difference species. Each vied for his attention and approval, even though Simone was the only one of the two biologically matched to him. Still, they sought power over the other in a childish display of schoolgirl-like jealousy.

Technically, Dinis Grof was the second-in-command of the Clan since she was an Anicettean and the former concubine of the past Lord of the Clan, the recent-deceased Alic Kiran. She had also been instrumental in having Nigel declared the new Lord, and as such she was rewarded with the second seat.

Yet Simone was Nigel’s lover and one the Hundred Humans he’d brought with him from the Milky Way. He grimaced at the thought. It had been a hundred at one time—until Adam Cain dispatched eleven of them during the battle for the super starship Goliath.

Probably more than anything else, it was that single act that made Nigel sure Cain suffered during his long months of captivity. Humans were such a scarce commodity in the tiny galaxy known as Tanic that he couldn’t afford to lose even one, let alone eleven in a single battle. With that thought in mind, Nigel found solace in the fact that once all this useless ceremony was over, he would reward himself with an extended session with his most-prized possession—his prisoner Adam Cain.

“I beg an audience with the Lord of the Clan,” Dinis said once she was within earshot of Nigel. She knew the Simicon could hear as well, so she had to be more respectful and subservient than they were in private.

Of course, Simone was didn’t buy into any such nonsense. “Something big just happened—”

Nigel raised his hand to cut off the tall blonde’s bombastic pronouncement.

He turned to the Simicon. “Please forgive me, for I must attend to serious affairs of state.” He rose from his seat. “I will return as soon as possible.”

“Yet the Lighting Ceremony is about to begin, My Lord. Can you not postpone the meeting for an hour?”

Nigel gave the dignitary a wry grin. “If only I could, Simicon Menahan. Functions like these are what give me relief from the more mundane duties of my office. Please offer my apologies. I will do my best to return before daybreak.”

He then turned from the exasperated planetary president and ducked through a doorway at the back of the stage, with the two females in tow. He rushed to the huge priest’s room that had been set aside for him and then shut and locked the door once the women had entered before tossing the silly looking hat across the room.

“As much as I appreciate the break, this had better not be another one of your childish squabbles—”

“Adam Cain has escaped!” Simone blurted out.

“He was rescued,” added Dinis.

Nigel McCarthy was stunned into silence, and through a numbness he felt in his mind and body, he played the last few words back in his head to see if there was any way they could have been misconstrued. Yet there were only seven of them, and they left no ambiguity.

“You had better have your facts straight,” Nigel spit out, “and he’s not just hiding somewhere in his room.”

Dinis moved to the room’s large desk and took out a datapad. She turned it on, and after a few adjustments, an image appeared on the five-foot wide screen that was mounted on the wall opposite a long couch.

“This is surveillance video taken an hour ago aboard the DS-229.”

The DS-229 was Nigel’s flagship—the one he’d come to Jenic in—and where he’d kept Adam Cain prisoner for the past six months. The ship was currently in orbit above the planet.

There was sound on the video, yet it was at such a low level that he couldn’t make out any conversations. Yet he didn’t need audio to know the seriousness of the situation. A highly coordinated team of Humans and aliens had stormed into the room, overpowering the guards and spirited away a zombie-like Adam Cain. Yet it was who had done the absconding that most impacted him.

It was Adam’s Cain’s old Crusaders team, including Sherri Valentine, Riyad Tarazi and Andy Tobias. He even had the two pesky aliens with him. He had forgot their names, yet when analyzed, it had been their seemingly harmless act of rescuing Adam from a derelict Klin transport almost two decades ago that had initiated the entire sequence of events that led to the failure of the Klin’s master plan and the fall of the Juirean Expansion.

Now they were at it again.

They were all here—within the Tanic Galaxy—and only an hour ago were only two hundred fifty miles above him in orbit above the planet Jenic.

Nigel found himself mesmerized by the video, not from the quality of the production or even the events it depicted, but rather from the implications it foretold. The fact that the team had successfully rescued Adam Cain from his flagship was one thing—and serious enough in its own right. Yet the question that was screaming in Nigel’s head at the moment was: How did they get here?

            With his attention still glued to the images streaming across the screen, Nigel cocked his head towards Dinis Grof. “I assume you’ve sent units after them.”

‘Yes, of course,” Dinis said with indignation. “And I had hoped to have him back in custody before the end of the ceremony, yet their rescue ship is one equipped with the new concentrated-array gravity drive. They also did some maneuvers that left the pursuers unable to track them.”

“She let them get away,” Simone summed up for Nigel.

“I did not let them get away. I did everything I could under normal circumstances.”

“And they’re still gone—”

“Shut the fook up!” Nigel commanded. “The bigger question I see is how the bloody hell did they get here in the first place? I’ve had Cain captive for six months, and even if they came on the rumored second ship Kroekus was building, that is still not enough time for them leave Earth, meet up with the ship, make the crossing and then have time to devise a rescue plan that held any chance for success. The numbers do not add up.”

“Unless they had already been on their way as part of Cain’s initial mission and were only a few months behind,” Simone offered.

Nigel shook his head. “I’ve spent the past six months beating the crap out of Mr. Cain, and I’ve never gotten the impression that there were more of them coming. A man like Cain doesn’t give up like he has if he believes backup is on the way. They had to come on the second ship.”

“But you just said the numbers don’t add up.”

“They don’t. Adding a month for prep before leaving, and a month gaining their footing here in Tanic to devise a rescue plan, that would only leave four months for the transit, maybe less.”

“That’s impossible,” Simone said.

“And yet here they are.”

“So how did they get here so fast?”

Chapter 33

“It feeds on dark matter,” Kaylor said to Adam.

The former Navy SEAL was wrapped in a warm blanket and reclining on one of the three couches in the common room aboard the rescue ship. Adam had managed to impress even himself with his rapid recovery over the past three days—at least physically. He had been fed some proper food and shot up with enough feel-good drugs to supply a ‘60’s hippie convention for a fortnight; even his mind was snapping back, at least enough for him to ask how the team got to the Large Magellanic Cloud.

“What the hell is dark matter?”

“That a term used by the Humans, but it is a naturally occurring form of matter that exists mainly between galaxies. It serves as a steering mechanism for the universe, helping to shape galaxies and place them within clusters. Our form of continuous-wormhole communications relies on the structure of dark matter to help establish connections.”

“I’m still at a loss.”

Kaylor was being unusually patient with Adam, realizing how much he’d been through over the last six months. “That’s understandable, Adam, I was just as shocked to learn of it myself, yet it seems Kroekus and his scientists found a way to harness dark matter in the formation of the gravity wells that drive our ships. We are headed for the second great ship Kroekus built for operation in the Cloud—as you Humans call it. Within it, we were about to make the transit between galaxies in only ninety-two standard days.”

Adam couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His trip to Tanic had taken eleven months, yet now Kaylor was saying the time had been cut to less than a third of that. “Yet the gravity wells would have to be…incredible,” he finally managed to say.

“Indeed! For fact, the Silean’s second ship employs twenty-four focusing rings, compared to twelve on his first ship and even the eight rings in the Pegasus. And yet, all twenty-four rings can only be engaged simultaneously while in intergalactic space, and not within a galaxy. The wells are too deep to be used anywhere near star systems. The disruption would be too great.”

“But that would take an incredible amount of matter, and there’s not enough in intergalactic space to maintain well-integrity.”

“Not normal matter, yet there is an overabundance of dark matter available. That is what is so revolutionary about the process. Travel within galaxies may not have changed much with this technology, yet travel between galaxies has advanced radically. And hence, we are here to affect your rescue.”

“But how did you even know I was being held prisoner—”

“I let them know,” said a voice from behind Adam’s head on the couch. The form of Dracus Worden came to stand next to the couch, looking down at Adam. “Once I found myself back in Polimor space after the Goliath attack, I made contact with your friend Riyad Tarazi on Earth and filled him in on the situation.”

Sherri, Riyad and Andy walked into the room next, with a young man trailing behind them and looking strangely familiar. “And once the word got out that you needed help, I never had a shortage of volunteers,” Riyad said with his trademark smile.

Sherri sat down on the couch next to Adam and grasped his right hand. “We didn’t know if we were on a rescue mission…or a recovery mission—recovery of your body. I know I speak for all of us that we’re glad it was a rescue and not the alternative. How did you survive so long at the hands of that madman?”

Adam felt a shiver rack his body. “I can’t say whether I did survive or not. I guess only time will tell.”

“You’ll be fine,” said Rear Admiral Andy Tobias with a grin.

“Is that an order, sir?”

“Damn right it is!”

Adam then frowned and looked harder at the young man standing to the rear of the reception party. The brilliant cobalt-blue eyes, freckled face and short, red hair made Adam suddenly cringe with fear and disgust.

Andy saw the look of primitive animal hatred come over Adam’s face, and it was obvious to all he knew the truth.

********

Nigel was mesmerized by the rescue video. Here were people who should not exist in this galaxy, yet here they were. Somehow they had managed to get here, and most likely within the time frame Adam was held captive—six months. The implications of such a feat went far beyond shocking. Could transits between galaxies now be reduced to less than half a year? That was less time than it once took to get from the Earth to The Fringe Worlds, right at the edge of the Far Arm of the Milky Way.

Nigel had once counted the lack of Humans in the Tanic Galaxy as a negative, now he could see how eventually having thousands, if not millions of them trapesing around his galaxy could spell disaster for the neat little empire he was building. And if there was one thing he was certain of, if there was new territory to explore—and exploit—his fellow man would be all over it.

And yet his most immediate concern was not the future Humans who would come to the Tanic Galaxy, but rather the three new ones he was now watching on the huge screen. They were in the process of half-carrying Adam along the corridors of the DS-229 and toward the landing bay. Along the way, they would occasionally pass a dead crewmember, the result of their earlier passage through the ship.

“They’re going to take him and return to the Milky Way,” Simone said, “and then everyone will know about what you’ve done here.”

“They can learn that with CW comms, Simone. And no, they will not be returning to the Milky Way, at least not immediately.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean they’re not leaving until they’ve had a crack at me.”

“Bullshit; they’ve just rescued their hero; there’s no way they would risk an attack on you, not now, not with you being Lord of the Clan.”

“My poor, dear Simone,” said Nigel as the video showed the team reaching the landing bay without incident. “You’ve only heard stories of these people and you believe they think rationally. Yet these are not rational people. They will come after me, and if we’re not careful, they will succeed in their mission.”

“And yet you are very well-guarded, My Lord,” said Dinis Grof.

“Just as the DS-229 was guarded?” Simone’s words caused Dinis to blanch.

“That is a vessel; Nigel is the Lord of the Clan. No one will be allowed to get near him. I will see to it personally.”

“And yet you don’t have a very good track record of maintaining adequate security,” Simone continued. As Vice-Lord of the Clan, Dinis was responsible for the day-to-day operations of the Clan, including security issues.

“How was I to know others of your species would attempt a rescue of the prisoner?”

“It’s your job to anticipate these things. And they did more than just attempt a rescue; they actually pulled one off, and then got away from your security forces.”

“How dare you question my—”

“Silence…the both of you!” Nigel commanded. “Dinis, Simone is right. You’re in charge of security for the Clan.”

“I cannot be held responsible for what others of your race do.”

“Yes you can,” Simone said.

Nigel waved his hand. “Simone’s right—and so is Dinis.” Both females jerked their heads in his direction. He went on to explain: “It was your responsibility, Dinis; yet Dinis is also correct that these are Humans we’re dealing with now. And that’s why I’m putting Simone in control of the Clan security from here on out.”

Dinis opened her mouth to protest, but Nigel cut her short with another wave of his hand. “This doesn’t reflect upon your skills, Dinis. It’s just that we are now dealing with Humans as the major threat to me and to the Clan. I need an expert in Humans and Human nature. Simone, you’re it. Dinis, you will still be head of the rest.” He tried to grin but failed miserably.

But then, as the video showed the team nearing the shuttle in the landing bay, with two mean-looking Rigorians standing guard outside the shuttle hatchway, Nigel noticed Kroekus’s old sidekick and advisor Dracus Worden stick his head out the main entrance hatch and look to where the rescue party were arriving.

So, you traitorous nitwit, Nigel thought. You’re the reason the others are here—”

Just then another figure poked his head out from under Dracus’s tall arm and looked into the landing bay. Nigel let out an audible gasp that caused both females to stop their bickering.

Simone followed Nigel’s transfixed stare to the huge the view screen.

She frowned. She saw the same slender, freckled faced, red-haired man. “Who that?” she asked….

********

 “Let me introduce the two of you,” offered Andy Tobias. “Eric, this is Captain Adam Cain, United States Navy SEALS. And Adam, this is Eric, Eric McCarthy.”

Adam closed his eyes and shook his head. “Please tell me it’s just a sick coincidence.”

There was an awkward moment of silence in the room before Adam opened his eyes again and looked hard at the young man.

“You’re that bastard’s son.” It was a statement, not a question.

“He’s on our side, Adam,” Sherri said in an effort to relieve the tension in the room.

“Bullshit, he’s a McCarthy and so he’s only out for himself. What the hell is he doing here in the first place?”

“I’m right here in the room with you, Mr. Cain, so please afford me some courtesy.”

Everyone in the room that was not Adam or Eric suddenly went pale. Adam’s death-filled stare said it all: If I wasn’t such a wreck, I’d be all over you, you obnoxious little shit!

“It’s true, Adam. Eric is working for us, and has been his entire life,” Sherri added.

Adam squeezed his eyes tight before opening them again. “And what the hell does that mean?”

“It means I was raised by Kroekus. It means I have never even met my biological father,” Eric answered for her.

“You mean the same Kroekus who conspired against everyone for his own benefit, resulting in billions of deaths just so that he could rule the galaxy uncontested? That Kroekus?”

“I had nothing to do with that. All I know now is that the being who raised me has been killed by the person who happens to be my biological father. I know all of what Nigel McCarthy has done—and continues to do. Why is it so hard for you to believe that I would find those deeds to be just as reprehensible as you?”

Adam looked around at the others in the room, only to see deep frowns on all their faces. “Are you hearing this?” he asked. “Who talks like that?”

“A Human raised by aliens,” Eric McCarthy offered, “just as all the Second-Generation Humans of the time.”

“The 2G’s were traitors to their race,” Adam said. He could feel his face turning beet red as nearly every injury inflicted on his body by Eric McCarthy’s father screamed out for revenge.

“We were ill-informed, Mr. Cain.”

“And why were you treated so differently? Why were you not part of the revenge fleet? What makes you so special if Nigel didn’t give a shit about you?”

********

“Eric is my first born,” Nigel explained to a visibly upset Simone Dubois.

“You have children?” The question was redundant, but Nigel felt he had to explain.

“I have lots of children; some estimates put it at over a hundred.”

Simone’s jaw dropped open, while Dinis Grof simply frowned. “I did not realize Humans were such prolific breeders.”

“We aren’t!” said Simone.

Nigel smiled. “You have to remember, Simone, I was in charge of the Human procurement activities for the Klin for over ten years. The whole purpose of that program was to breed an army of Second-Generation Humans to man the Klin Revenge Fleet against the Juireans. At the time I was more than willing to do my part. And once a child was born, it was taken away to be raised by others.”

“But this kid’s different?”

“That’s right; as I said, Eric was my first born. At the time I fully expected to be placed as Earth’s emperor by the Klin after their victory, and so I naturally began to think of a royal lineage to succeed me.”

“You Brits are into that sort of thing,” snapped Simone.

“You may be from America, but your ancestors are French. They did their own fair share of royal worship, too.” Nigel looked back at the large screen and the image he’d frozen showing the partially obscured face of Eric McCarthy. “Eric was to be my heir.”

“So how did he end up here?”

“That I’m not sure of, yet when he was six the Klin plans fell apart—”

“Adam Cain was involved in that,” Simone stated.

“That’s correct. It was also the time when I started to secretly work with Kroekus. The richest creature in the galaxy wasn’t a bad partner to have, so I sent Eric to him to be raised and kept safe. Honestly, I lost contact with him over the years. I thought he was dead since Kroekus never mentioned him.”

“Oh he’s alive all right, and working with the very same group of Humans who once had you in shackles and headed to Earth for your final judgment.”

Nigel frowned. “Yes, this is a curious turn of events, but the alien Dracus has known Eric since he first arrived in Kroekus’s court. He must have been watching after him all this time, and has now brought him along with him to Tanic.”

Simone looked up at the screen. “So whose side is he on? And I wonder if he knows what you did to Kroekus?”

“If I had known he was here, I might have spared Kroekus and used him to lure Eric to me.”

“You want to meet him?” Simone was shocked by the revelation.

Nigel smiled. “Be it Earth or Tanic, I won’t live forever, and it would be nice to have an heir to the throne.” He watched as Simone fought with the conflict of emotions within her. He knew she was barren, so no such heir would come from her. She also knew that placing herself between father and son could be risky, very risky.

Yet at the moment, Nigel needed an answer to the question Simone had just raised: Whose side is Eric on?

He also had to work through his own emotions regarding the subject. What if it was found that Eric had indeed allied himself with his enemy? Mentally, Nigel shrugged. He had had no contact with his son for over thirteen years, so to Nigel the kid was a stranger. If he was now part of the enemy camp, then he would suffer their same fate.

He turned to Dinis, who had been strangely quiet for the past few minutes, not being part of the conversation regarding heirs and lineage. “There’s a super starship hiding somewhere in the Tanic Galaxy. The people who rescued Adam Cain are in a short-range shuttle, so the ship must be somewhere within a thousand light-years from here. I want every available ship in space and looking for it. The repairs on the Goliath are still two weeks out, and until it’s operational we are vulnerable.”

“It is one ship—”

“Have you not seen the Goliath?” Nigel interrupted. “We already know this new ship is faster; we have to also assume she is more deadly, too. And there are Humans aboard, how many I don’t know.”

“And what if the ship is located—and your offspring is aboard?”

Nigel pursed his thin, pink lips. He looked at Simone. “Until it’s proven otherwise, we have to assume he is working with Cain and his team. If we find the ship, we attack, and with everything we’ve got.”

“And our other battle campaigns?”

“Simone, I want you to take over for the Clan Tactical Council. We must scale back our efforts elsewhere, yet do not jeopardizing any of our current operations. Let’s not lose any battles, but also not start anything new until this second ship is located and destroyed. Is all this clear to the both of you?”

“I will proceed immediately,” said Dinis as she headed for the door; however, she hesitated leaving when she noticed Simone was not following. After an awkward moment, she slide the door open and reluctantly left the room.

“So how are you going to learn the truth about Eric?” Simone asked after the door clicked shut.

“I have an asset in the Polimor military which I’ll call upon.” He raised his hand to stop the approaching question. “Don’t ask. It’s best if you don’t know. Now, my love, go manage my war for me while I deal with Adam Cain and his team of bloody Crusaders.”

Chapter 34

Adam was furious when he learned that the members of his team had named the gigantic warship he was in after him. He found it impossible to go around calling the ship The Cain without laughing. Although he knew there were already a fair number of Human ships which bore his name, he’d never been aboard one, and he wasn’t about to start now.

“So what do you suggest we call her?” asked Sherri Valentine in a huff. It had been her idea to name the ship after Adam and now she was insulted.

“The other one is the Goliath—because it’s really huge. So let’s call this one the Leviathan.”

“Do you even know what a leviathan is?”

“Contrary to your belief, I did go to college—for a while. I’m not a complete idiot, Sherri. A leviathan is a giant mythical sea creature.”

“Good for you,” she said with a scowl. “You probably had to look it up before coming in here and raising such a fuss.”

Adam could feel his face turning red, embarrassed by the truth the fiery blonde had just revealed, even if he didn’t admit it out loud. She knew him too well.

“Now that we’ve covered all the truly important topics, why don’t we move onto more trivial matters—like deciding on our next plan of action.” Admiral Andy Tobias had switched to his interior command voice, one that was clear and soft, yet firm and decisive, and laced with just the right amount of sarcasm.

Adam sat back in his chair and began to pout. It had been a week since his rescue and with each passing day his physical strength was returning, if not his mental strength. He fought the demons constantly, and at night—alone in his cabin—he kept a dim light on, mimicking the conditions of his stark cell aboard Nigel’s flagship. Even though the nightmares didn’t come during his captivity, he had experienced two horrific episodes over the past few nights, almost to the point where he was afraid to close his eyes and attempt to fall asleep. He was worried that the condition would worsen. He knew this to be post-traumatic-syndrome and a lot of his fellow sailors from the SEALs suffered from the same affliction to some degree.

In his arrogance, Adam tried to work through the condition without outside help, saying that it was caused by a man—Nigel McCarthy—and nothing more. He had been associated the sadistic Brit for almost twenty years, so this should be nothing new to Adam, and yet the nightmares had scared him much more than they should have. Fortunately, the alien doctors aboard the Leviathan didn’t question his need for drugs to help him sleep—and alien drugs were the best. At first he resisted taking them, but now he saw no alternative. If he was to regain his edge, he needed rest, and if the nightmares were going to interfere with that then they had to be controlled.

He took the opportunity to look around the rectangular table at the other attendees to the strategy meeting. Sherri Valentine was seated next to him, with her now ex-lover Riyad Tarazi seated across from her. They appeared to have worked out their differences, just as Sherri and Adam had. He had tried not to pry into the reasons for the breakup, but just from what Sherri intimated it had something to do with Riyad’s religious beliefs and his treatment of women. Adam was surprised that Riyad still clung to his religion, if only superficially. Adam wasn’t one to criticize, especially not after what he’d been through. After all, he knew the Devil existed—in the being of Nigel McCarthy—so why shouldn’t there be a balancing God?

As he continued around the table, Adam saw that Commander-One Qwels Nur and his brother Nurick were present. As the leader of the surviving Polimor space fleet, Qwels was a logical choice to be here, yet his brother was a civilian, and so that was unusual; however, Adam had learned that Dracus had personally insisted Nurick attend, to serve as a calming influence on his brother.

While Kroekus had been alive and running the show from aboard the Goliath, Qwels had stood in awe of the huge Silean, not only because of his wealth and track record of success, but also because the massive galaxy that dominated the Tanic night sky was named after his people, the Sileans. Adam knew at some point the record would have to be corrected, but since the Sileans had made first contact with the inhabitants of the Tanic Galaxy over five hundred years before, it only made sense that their galaxy of origin would begin to be referred to as Silea.

Yet the real complication for the meeting came from the introduction of more Humans into the mix. Qwels and Nurick were both in awe of Adam as well—even though that respect had been earned through experience. Yet here was another Human—someone they called an Admiral—who others had assigned command authority upon. How Qwels would react to this new wrinkle in the chain of command was anyone’s guess, and it was Nurick’s job to make sure his brother accepted the new status quo.

Someone Adam was truly surprised to see at the table was Qwels’ former second-in-command, Mios Valnon. Since Qwels’ promotion to command of the entire Polimor fleet, Mios had taken over the four-hundred-ship fleet Qwels had once commanded. None of the other five regional commanders were in attendance, and Adam wondered why this impossibly thin creature had been singled out. There had originally been eight secret fleets—each with their own commander—yet through attrition in battle, fleet numbers had been reduced to where only thirty-two hundred ships remained out of the full force of over five thousand. The surviving units had been divided into six fleets, with Qwels as the Commander-One of the entire force.

Yet most-troubling to the war effort was the fact that no new ships were being built to replace those lost in battle. The writing was plastered clearly across the wall, yet no one at the table was willing to read it aloud.

For his part, Nigel McCarty wasn’t suffering from any of the problems that plagued the Polimors. As a matter of fact, with the Kiran Clan controlling most of the manufacturing facilities in the galaxy, they were churning out new ships at a rate of ten per day. Given another year, Nigel McCarthy and the Kiran’s would be an unstoppable force within the Tanic Galaxy.

“Well, it’s obvious we cannot wait to act,” said Riyad Tarazi to start the meeting. “The enemy grows stronger by the day, while the forces of good only grow weaker.”

“If I may speak,” said Qwels Nur. Adam held his breath, waiting to hear what the Vicorean had to say. “Although I appreciate the assistance the Humans are offering—along with this magnificent warship—I cannot see how you could possibly understand the dynamics at work within Tanic, seeing that you have only recently arrived.”

“And that is why we welcome your professional input, Commander-One Nur,” said Andy Tobias. “However, I must stress—even to our embarrassment—that we Humans have much more experience at the art of war. And the fact that the leader of the Kiran Clan is a Human does qualify us for the leadership role.”

“I do acknowledge that, Admiral Tobias; however, I must also stress that the Polimors have a tendency to mistrust other-worlders, especially those from the Silean Galaxy. It was difficult enough to maintain order when the Silean Kroekus was in command, even with him being the catalyst behind the construction of the fleet. And this ship you now command was built by him and not by Humans. It may be hard to convince others to follow more other-worlders.”

“My brother, these are beings who are much more advanced in fighting skills than we are,” said Nurick. “They may be foreigners, yet they have come here to help us against an enemy that will surely destroy us if not stopped. We must accept all the help we can get if we are to survive as a Clan.”

“I understand that, Nurick, all I am expressing is reality. I will accept the command authority of Admiral Tobias, as long as I believe it to be in the best interest of the Clan.”

“Fair enough,” Andy said, anxious to get through this part of the meeting. “And you must believe me when I say we—the ones seated at this table—are not looking for a long-term involvement in your affairs. All we seek is the elimination of Nigel McCarthy. After that, we’re going home.”

“That goal would be most satisfying, especially since it is one of your kind who has brought such upheaval to my galaxy. The fact that one creature could so influence an entire galaxy is almost beyond comprehension, even though we have all been witness to it firsthand.”

“Unfortunately, Commander-One, our history is ripe with stories of individuals who have had terrible and tragic influence over the masses.” Andy looked around at all the faces watching him from around the table. “We’re here to remedy the situation as best we can.”

He then turned to the only Rigorian in the room, the captain of the newly christened Leviathan, a creature named Rolic Krin. “Captain, we have to find a place to hide the Leviathan. It’s a sure bet that McCarthy will send out everything he can spare in an effort to find us.”

“Agreed.” The word sounded as if it had been spoken from the bottom of a well, originating in the huge lungs of the lizard-like creature and then traveling up the long neck, only to escape through the long jaws and pointed teeth of the intimidating beast. “We have identified a small globular cluster about seven hundred light-years from here with a secure inner region. The gravity wake of the JN—I mean the Leviathan—will be obscured by the background radiation of the cluster. Yet is it our intention to hide, or is it to fight, Admiral?”

“We intend to fight, Captain Krin. But that will involve coordinating with Commander-One Nur and his forces. McCarthy knows we’re in the galaxy, so he’ll hunker down on this capital planet in the deepest bunker they have and then surround the planet with an impenetrable shield of warships.”

“What about the Goliath?” Dracus asked. “McCarthy took possession of the ship and has been in the process of repairing it since the battle. It should be nearing completion.”

“That could be a game-changer—a deciding influence—so it would be best to strike before the ship is operational again.”

“And yet the Leviathan is also not at full strength,” Kaylor spoke for the first time. “The electromagnetic pulse resulting from the dark matter drive has depleted many of the weapons batteries. It will take time for them to recharge. And then Commander-One Nur must coordinate his forces as well. With the first ship—the Goliath—soon to operational, we may not have time to strike before then.”

“And then what do we strike?” asked Riyad. “Do we blast into the Anicett system and lay siege to the entire planet? Even killing several billion creatures will not guarantee McCarthy is one of them.”

“These are all very good questions,” said Andy Tobias. “Our original mission was Adam’s rescue. This new mission is a work in progress, but it’s obvious we need to have eyes on McCarthy and then structure a mission around that.”

“We could just go home.” Adam’s comment caused a few around the table to gasp.

“And leave McCarthy alive?” Sherri asked.

“He’s out of the Milky Way and out of our affairs. He’s getting older and eventually natural causes will put an end to his miserable life. I say cut our losses and go home.”

“For my part, I find that totally unacceptable, Adam,” Riyad remarked. “I didn’t come all this way—and in such a powerful weapon—just to turn away when our final victory is so close.”

“From the comments around the table, that victory is not so close or guaranteed.”

“I’m afraid leaving the galaxy at this point is not an option,” said Andy Tobias. “Riyad’s right; we’ve come a long way, and we can’t leave until we’ve taken a crack at Nigel McCarthy. We may learn at some point that the cause is futile, but until that time, this new mission is a go.”

“Aye aye, sir. I was just pointing out an alternative.”

“And from what you’ve just been through, it’s perfectly understandable. And if you’d rather sit this one out while you recover—”

“Hell no, sir! If you’re going in, then we’re all going in.”

“Good, then it’s settled.” Tobias looked around the table. “First order of business, we get to a safe haven and bring the Leviathan up to full operational readiness. After that…we go kick some McCarthy ass!”

Chapter 35

Mios Valnon was in a panic. He had fully expected to see Eric McCarthy at the meeting, yet he had been absent. Fortunately, luck was with him when he spotted the smaller version of Nigel McCarthy sitting alone in the Consumptionary.

The Lord of the Clan had tasked him with determining the loyalty status of his offspring, yet Mios had to be very careful not to draw too much attention to his activities. If Eric was indeed a reluctant accomplice, then anyone affiliating with him could be also classified as a Kiran sympathizer.

Mios ordered a race-appropriate meal and then carried the tray to a table next to the young Human. He was always amazed at how small and frail Humans looked up close, yet he knew this to be an illusion. And now there were even more of them within his galaxy.

Eventually Mios and the alien made eye contact, and the Human frowned at the locked stare Mios sent him.

“Is there a problem?” Eric McCarthy asked with testiness in his voice.

“Forgive me,” said Mio, “but it is rumored that the offspring of the Kiran Clan leader is aboard the ship. Since I have seen images of Lord McCarthy, I have to assume you are he?”

“You have assumed correctly, for what good it does.” Eric resumed consuming his meal.

“I do not understand; you seem to be depressed by the reality.”

“When you’re surrounded by a ship full of five thousand creatures all sworn to the death of your father, you’d be depressed, too.”

“And yet Lord McCarthy is our enemy; is he not yours as well?”

“Of course, it’s just that no one seems to believe me.” Eric McCarthy pulled away from the table and exposed his right ankle to Mios. There was a small device attached.

“They keep track of me wherever I go, and they even hold meetings without me present.”

“I noticed you were not in the strategy meeting.”

Eric looked hard at Mios, who suddenly grew very nervous with the scrutiny. “You were at the meeting?” Eric asked. “Who are you?”

“I am Second-Commander Mios Valnon, leader of the Third Compliment Fleet for the Polimor Clan.”

“That sounds impressive, although I don’t know what any of that means.”

“It means I am part of the force that will attempt to eliminate your birth father.”

Eric pursed his lips and nodded. “You and everyone else.”

“You should not feel badly, Eric McCarthy. Your birth father has accomplished much since his arrival in Tanic. Feats such as those should not be dismissed lightly.”

“You sound like you’re a supporter of his, which is very strange for a fleet commander.”

“I am a loyal Polimor, Eric McCarthy, yet that does not preclude me from admiring accomplishment.”

Eric looked around the room to see if anyone was watching. There were eyes on him—as there always were—but nothing out of the ordinary. He turned back to Mios. “I’m heading for the observation deck, Level Twenty. It’s more private up there and no one is looking at me. I find I can think more freely.” He pushed away from the table and stood. “It’s been enjoyable speaking with you, Mios Valnon. Perhaps we can do it again before you leave to return to your command.”

The alien then left the room.

Mios sat for several minutes attempting to decipher the Human’s parting words. Was he inviting Mios to join him on the observation deck for a more private conversation, or was he expressing his desire to be alone? Mios knew too little of Humans to know for sure.

After an appropriate time had passed, Mios returned his food tray to the processor, and after referring to an automated location guide, found his way to the Level Twenty observation deck.

For a ship this size, the room was actually quite small, yet it did have an incredible view of the surrounding stars, as well as the terraced forward section of the Leviathan. Eric McCarthy didn’t turn from the crystal clear glass window when Mios approached.

“You have a beautiful galaxy here, Mios,” the young McCarthy said.

“Is it not like Silea?”

Eric smiled. “Of course it is, yet this one is soon to be under the control of my father.”

“You do not believe our mission will succeed?”

“I have been hearing about my father’s exploits my entire life, and every time forces have gathered against him he has come out ahead. Now he rules the most powerful Clan in Tanic, and we are but one ship against thousands.”

“What of my ships and the rest of the Polimors?”

Eric finally turned to look at Mios. “You seem to be a logical creature, Mios, what do you see your chance of success as being?”

“I will do my duty no matter the consequences—if even in a losing cause.”

“Too bad.”

“May I ask a question, Eric McCarthy?”

“Of course.”

“Are you a prisoner here or are you a willing participant against your father?”

Eric turned back to the huge window and was silent for several moments before answering. “I honestly don’t know. Many here try to assure me that I’m one of them, and yet they exclude me from important affairs. And as far as the goal of killing my father goes, I also don’t know. I’m unaware how it is for your species, but for Humans fathers are very important.”

“In Diaphonin society, the birth father is at the pinnacle of the order. It appears it is the same for Humans. Yet is it not true that you were raised by the Silean Kroekus—whom I have met on several occasions?”

“Yes, I was.”

“And Lord McCarthy killed him. That must cause you some conflict.”

“Kroekus and my father were supposed to rule the Tanic Galaxy as partners. Now we learn that Kroekus has conspired with the Polimors—your Clan—to eliminate the Kiran’s and my father by extension. In my opinion it seems Kroekus got what he deserved.”

Eric turned back to Mios with a wry grin on his face. “I suppose now you will report this conversation to others, which will only help confirm their distrust of me.”

“I will do nothing of the sort. As I have expressed honestly, I believe our mission against the Kiran’s to be a lost cause. And if it wasn’t for the presence of this ship, I believe there would a petition for peace between the Clans, with Nigel McCarthy being declared Lord of all the Clans. Many lives would be saved in the process.”

“Then why don’t you advocate for that?”

It was Mios’ turn to grin. “I am but a lowly Second-Commander; I have no influence when it comes to such matters of importance. I can predict the outcome as best I can, yet I cannot change anything.”

“That is too bad, Mios Valnon,” said Eric McCarthy. “You seem to be the only one around here with any common sense.”

********

Four hours later, Mios departed the Leviathan in a Sub-Nine cruiser to return to his base. He had to assemble his fleet and maneuver them to the Golan Cluster, where they would meet up with the remaining ships in the Polimor fleet in less than a week.

Yet at a range of fifty light-years from the Leviathan, Mios Valnon sent an encrypted message toward the planet Anicett. He was confident that the information he sent would be welcomed and also bring a much greater reward than any of his past reports. This one could allow him to abandon his command and emigrate to Anicett, a free being at last—and a wealthy one as well.

He longed for that outcome, believing as he did that Anicett would be safe from the meager forces the Humans were aligning against it. He just hoped Nigel McCarthy would act quickly with his reward since Mios was not anxious to lead his fleet against the Kirans, not knowing what he knew of the strength and military readiness of the Polimor fleet and their Human allies.

********

Andy Tobias placed a hand on the communication officer’s shoulder. The creature was a Locan, from a planet located about a thousand light-years from Juir. “It is confirmed, sir,” the officer said. “He has sent the message to Anicett.”

Andy nodded. “Good. Now the game is underway.”

Qwels Nur was standing next to Tobias. “I still find it incomprehensible that my second-in-command has been a traitor for so long.”

“You’re the one who discovered the payments and traced the leak back to him.”

“That is true, Admiral, yet it still does not lessen the shock.”

“Just be grateful we found out and can now use him for our own purposes. The only way this mission will succeed is if we can lure McCarthy out of his hiding place.”

“And you are sure he will lead the fleet against you?”

Andy smiled. “He wouldn’t miss it for all the tea in China.”

“I assume that is a lot of the beverage, as the translation has related?”

“Oh yeah, that’s a lot of tea, my friend. Now let us go and set the trap.”

Chapter 36

Nigel McCarthy lifted the hapless alien by the collar and pinned him against the cold metal bulkhead of the Goliath. “I don’t care if you have to bolt cannon to the hull, just get these damn weapons aboard. I want this ship ready to depart in two days—or you will pay the ultimate price for your incompetence.”

“Yes, My Lord,” cried the terrified creature. “It is just that we had been working by a different schedule.”

“That’s all changed now.” He set the alien back on the floor. “The fleet’s leaving in two days and the Goliath will be my flagship.”

“Of course, My Lord, I will add labor and hours to the task. It will be ready.”

Simone was reading a datapad as the two walked away from the thoroughly chastised repair supervisor. “Nine thousand ships, plus the Goliath,” she said. “That’s an awesome amount of firepower to go up against one battleship and a ragtag fleet of inexperienced Polimors.”

“I don’t care, this is my version of Shock and Awe. I don’t want to leave any doubt as to the outcome of the battle.”

Simone smiled. “It will also send a pretty clear message to the other Clans. After this, they’ll be no one who’ll stand against you.”

Nigel was feeling a giddy as a schoolboy. Mios Valnon really came through, not only with the location and readiness report on the ship they called the Leviathan, but also regarding the loyalty of his son. This news did, however, pose a problem. If Eric did favor Nigel over the others, then how was he going to spare him their fate?

If anything was to be done, it would have to be during the battle, when the units were within close proximity of one another. Then Eric would have to escape the Leviathan and make his way to the Goliath. Nigel’s good mood dropped a degree or two with the thought. That would be virtually impossible, with Eric more than likely getting his ass shot off in the process.

Nigel tried to compartmentalize the upcoming events. He would first destroy the Leviathan and his Human enemies. He would then be in a position to demand the annexation of all the other Clans in the face of his overwhelming power. And lastly, if he could save his son, then he would. If not, well at least he had been open the idea, which didn’t make him all bad—at least in his opinion.

“Can this intelligence be trusted?” Simone was asking, shaking Nigel from his thoughts.

“I believe so. This asset has always been right in the past. And like you said, with nine thousand ships and the Goliath, even with the Leviathan at full strength won’t be able to stand against full a force. Nine thousand is the largest space fleet ever assembled, either here or in the Milky Way. It will be a glorious victory.”

“Let’s hope so.”

“Have a little faith, love. And just think, in a little over seven days we could be the undisputed rulers of an entire galaxy.”

“I’m glad you said we.”

Nigel smiled and placed a huge arm around Simone’s narrow shoulders. “You know you’re the only woman for me.”

“Yeah, the only Human woman; just don’t you forget that.”

********

Five days later Mios Valnon arrived with his fleet at the Golan Cluster and was assigned to Corridor Green by Qwels Nur.

“This sounds very much like guard duty, Commander-One,” Mios questioned. “Are we not assembling for an assault?”

“Until the Leviathan is fully operational, we will remain here.”

“And another thing; I understand all the other commanders have had meetings aboard the Leviathan, all except me.” Mios was growing more nervous by the hour, confident in his belief that something was happening he was not aware of. Maybe it was just the paranoia of the guilty, but he was seeing conspiracies in every shadow.

“You attended the first strategy meeting, Mios,” Qwels explained. “The others didn’t and had to be briefed. There will be a full staff meeting once the final timeline for the mission is formalized. Until then, your units must be made useful. With only three access points into the cluster, it is only wise to station units at each. We cannot risk losing the Leviathan to a surprise attack.”

“That does make sense, Commander-One. I will station my ships as directed. Valnon terminating link.”

********

“He is growing suspicious,” Qwels said to Riyad and Andy Tobias.

“As well he should,” Andy said. “I’m sure he would have preferred to be in a forward position so he can bolt out if things get tough. Just keep an eye on him. We can’t afford to have him let Nigel know we’re fortifying the cluster.”

“I have monitors now filtering all his communications. He will not be allowed to send any links we cannot intercept.”

“Good. Now do we have any estimates of the force McCarthy will send against us?” He directed the question to Riyad.

“Qwels brother, Nurick, has been using his contacts in the Channeler system to collect observations of troop build-ups, and it’s been substantial. It seems every ship that’s not in the yards or off fighting another battle is being called up.”

“And the Goliath?”

“Still in the yards, as far as anyone can tell. The ship is being worked on in space so it’s not that easy to get near her since it’s such a high-security area. But the bottom line, Andy, is that we’re going to be facing several thousand ships regardless of the status of the Goliath.”

Tobias turned to Qwels. “And your ships, how many are we getting?”

“Six hundred are currently engaged in struggles against the Kiran’s and can’t be withdrawn. With no new units available and spare parts very scarce, I am only able to bring two thousand forty-one on station out of my active fleet of thirty-five hundred.”

All three of them were silent for a moment as the gravity of the situation sank in; Qwels was the first to speak.

“How powerful is the Leviathan in reality? I know we have embellished the truth some for Mios’ sake—in regards to the ship not being fully operational—yet what can we expect from this one ship?”

“You want the truth, Commander-One? The truth is I don’t really know. You said it yourself; we didn’t build this ship and we’ve had very little opportunity to test her full capabilities. For the crew, this trip to Tanic was their shakedown cruise, and we didn’t know what to expect once we got here. In hindsight, if we’d known we would be fighting a pitched battle against several thousand enemy units, we might have held more drills and honed our skills better.”

“You also have to realize our goal is not to defeat the enemy fleet, but rather to cut off its head,” Riyad added. “Once Nigel McCarthy is dead, the Kirans may lose the enthusiasm to fight. At least that’s the hope.”

“And you believe he will be aboard the Goliath?”

“If he can get her running again, otherwise it will be the most-powerful ship to come up against us. In a way, I hope the target is not so obvious at the outset. That would mean the Goliath is not part of the fleet.”

“Let us then hope for the best and that the Goliath remains out of commission.” Qwels Nur then excused himself and returned to his command duties aboard his own flagship, a little less enthusiastic for the upcoming battle than he had been only a few hours before.

Chapter 37

Unfortunately, the best outcome for the Humans was not to be. For the past three days, the Kiran Clan’s fleet of eight thousand, six hundred ninety ships had been bolting through space, spread out like a gigantic cone behind the lead ship—the Goliath. The mighty warship was not one hundred percent battle ready, yet her engines were fully charged and her weapons systems were at eighty percent, including two powerful flash cannon that were literally strapped to the exterior hull at each side of the bridge. Able to employ twelve focusing rings at once, the flagship had to travel at about half her maximum speed just so the other ships could keep pace. Yet even at that, the fleet was due at the Golan Cluster in eighteen hours.

As Nigel nervously paced the bridge of the Goliath, he was under no illusions that he could keep the massive fleet a secret until they arrived on station. The gravity signature of such a large number of ships was lighting up this part of the Tanic Galaxy like a Roman candle. At some point, newscasts from the various worlds they passed would take note and that would be picked up on the CW comm band. Cain and his Crusaders would know he’s coming. What—if anything—they could do about it was anyone’s guess.

The Kirans had excellent star charts for this region of space, including the Golan Cluster, so Nigel was aware of the limited ingress and egress points. For ships as huge as the Goliath and the Leviathan, there were only three. Two faced Nigel’s direct line of attack, while the third was on the far side of the cluster. With so many ships at his disposal, Nigel planned to split his forces into thirds and place barricades at all three points. This way, even if the battle took longer than planned, Cain and his forces wouldn’t be allowed to escape.

Advanced reports also indicated that a number of the smaller Polimor units were stationed outside the cluster with most stationed at the critical access points to the nebula’s interior. They would be the first order of business and shouldn’t pose too much of an obstacle to Nigel’s forces. The Leviathan, however, was another matter.

He wasn’t looking forward to entering the interior of the cluster in search of the mighty warship, and he was sure any conventional units he sent in ahead of time would be summarily vaporized. He knew the capabilities of the Goliath, so he had to assume her sistership was every bit as powerful.

Yet if the Leviathan didn’t come out to face him, he knew eventually he’d have to take the initiative.

********

Adam Cain was in the comm center of the Leviathan when Mios Valnon came aboard for his final pre-battle briefing. After the meeting, Adam tracked the traitor’s movements on video until his suspicious were confirmed. There they were, Eric McCarthy and Mios Valnon, on the observation deck and engaged in a hushed, protected conversation, hidden from the audio pickups in the security camera.

He had witnessed a brief conversation they had the last time Mios was aboard the flagship, and it just seemed like too much of a coincidence that the two of them—traitor and the son of his mortal enemy—would strike up a friendship in such a short time.

Adam knew Mios had relayed information to Nigel about the Leviathan and her status; that was the purpose of inviting him to the first strategy meeting. But now he was beginning to believe that Mios had a double mission—and that involved turning Nigel’s son into an agent for the Kirans.

Adam had been especially angry when he learned Eric had come along on the mission to rescue him from Nigel’s prison ship. Dracus had tried to explain the reasoning behind it, and how the young man had purposefully made himself visible to the security cameras on the landing deck. It all had to do with psychological warfare and about building a conflict in the mind and heart of Nigel McCarthy. Yet unlike the others, Adam knew Nigel had no heart. He would not change his plans to protect a long lost son any more than he’d hesitate to squash a bug under his boot.

And now it appeared as though the strategy may have backfired. It was now Nigel who was using his son to his biding. What the young man had in mind was anyone’s guess, yet with such an intense—and secretive—conversation taking place between him and Mios, Adam was sure it wouldn’t be good.

Adam couldn’t let such a dangerous asset roam free aboard the ship with impunity. He would have to do something about that.

Chapter 38

The Battle of the Golan Cluster—the largest space battle to ever take place in two galaxies—began innocently enough as the outer fringes of both fleets engaged each other a full fifty light-years from the cluster. The units were compatible, so the fighting was intense and prolonged. In the end, fifty Polimor ships were destroyed along with forty-three Kirans. The loss stung the Polimors more than the Kirans, and the mighty fleet pressed onward.

Nigel knew the cat was out of the bag for sure by then, so he set about dividing his forces into thirds and ordered an all-out attack.

Much to his chagrin, he soon found that the enemy had saturated the area of space surrounding the cluster with thousands of proximity mines. These were magnetic, and even at faster-than light speeds, they were able to lock on and track their targets. He lost over a hundred ships in the first few minutes of the engagement before the minefield was bypassed.

It was then that the real battle began.

Most conflicts in space occurred at sub-light speed. This made sense when one considered that flash cannon bolts travel at light speed and not beyond. If ships streaked past one another at many times the speed of light, nothing would ever be hit and no battle resolved.

So the scientists and tacticians in the past developed vast dampening fields which impeded the development of fast-than-light gravity wells within the field of battle. Singularities could still be created, yet it was extremely dangerous to enter an event horizon while in a dampening field. The wells were very unstable and a gravity burst could easily consume even the largest warship. However, steering wells were still possible, and able to divert the path of a vessel while in the throes of battle. Called influence-wells, these creations were able to redirect craft at such radical angles that only the ship’s internal compensators were the limiting factor to the speed and severity of the course changes. It didn’t pay for a ship to make an instant ninety-degree course change at near the speed of light if all the occupants aboard ended up as nothing more than bloody stains on the bulkheads.

So the greatest space battle in history was soon racketed down to what was essentially slow motion in terms of interstellar travel. The Goliath, with her twelve focusing rings and superior compensators was able to wind her way through the enemy forces, blasting dozens of ships to atoms. She took hits herself, yet Nigel had to give a mental nod to Kroekus and his engineers for the cross-field diffusion screens the ship carried. He had never even heard of such a thing before seeing them aboard the Goliath. They could withstand even a close proximity nuclear explosion through the use of variable phasing—whatever that was. Nigel didn’t need to know, he just knew it worked. And he had four solid banks of these shields covering his ship.

Yet even as effective as the screens were, they still had their limits. Each hit by a plasma bolt had to be absorbed, and at that the diffuser could only hold so much capacity. He wasn’t too worried about the Polimor forces breaching the shields; what he worried about was that the Leviathan would carry the same capacity. After a quick calculation, he found that he had enough firepower in his conventional units to overload the Leviathan’s shields. It would result in substantial loss of his units, and would involve a prolonged and concentrated barrage to bring down their shields, but it was possible.

Whether Cain’s ship would allow that to happen was another question, and with the attrition of his forces as they cleared the surrounding space of Polimor units, he began to wonder if he’d have enough left to do the job.

Of course, he always had the Goliath. His flagship had the firepower of a thousand conventional ships, so if worst came to worst he’d have to do the task himself.

********

“Nigel, you better come look at this,” Simone said from her bridge station to his right. He had selected her for the journey to the Large Magellenic Cloud because she had military experience as part of the Juirean occupation force—along other, more personal and selfish reasons.

He looked at her screen, which showed a long-range representation of the battle taking place around the Golan Cluster. At first he didn’t see it, but then as the seconds passed, the anomaly became more noticeable. It was a gravity signature, but one of unusual characteristics.

“That’s a ship, isn’t it?” he said.

“That’s right. I’ve tried to pin it down more, but either it’s a very intense localized signature, or a very powerful one at a greater distance.”

“It’s growing, so we’ll know soon enough. Captain!” Nigel called out to the bridge commander. “We have a new target closing from two hundred degrees to port—from our left. It’s huge and I believe it to be the Leviathan. Tactical, break units from the Cluster and arrange a screen between us and the approaching target. Charge weapons and place all dampers at full. It seems the bloody enemy has pulled a fast one on us.”

Chapter 39

It hadn’t been easy moving the Leviathan from inside the Golan Cluster without being noticed, at least by Mios and his fleet. They had done so using only a fraction of the twenty-four focusing rings they had available so as to disguise the signature as that of a conventional starship. In the end it worked, and the mighty ship had sat off at a distance of a hundred light-years and watched the battle develop.

But now it was time to engage, and with the singular mission being the destruction of the Goliath.

“Dropping to sub-light, Admiral,” reported Captain Krin. “All systems are online and at one hundred percent capacity.”

Andy Tobias was sure he could detect an almost gleeful nature to the large lizard’s voice. Rigorians were not known to have a sense of humor, nor even a sense of joy. But now Andy realized that the warrior species lived for the thrill of the battle. There would be no fear from his captain; he would execute his orders and suffer the consequences without a moment’s hesitation.

“Deploy the fighters,” Andy ordered. “Let’s scramble things up a little.”

********

During the elaborate space battle taking place, Adam Cain didn’t have much to do. His expertise was in small-theater engagements, not something this expansive. And yet he wasn’t without a purpose. He was back in the comm center and once again watching Eric McCarthy, and when Nigel’s son entered a trans-ship elevator heading for the hangar deck, Adam left the comm room and followed.

The ship was a study in controlled chaos at that time as the crew geared up for the face-to-face battle with the Goliath. Many of them were familiar with the prototype Kroekus had built and were aware of her capabilities. They also knew that the Leviathan was even more powerful and capable, so they moved about with confidence and purpose.

The fighter crews were crowding the multiple hangar decks and six landing bays, running through last minute system checks and trying to control the nervous energy that was building up inside. Adam was sure there were a few veterans of the Battle of the Dysion Void among the fighter crews, yet for the bulk of them this would be their first real taste of battle. Fortunately, this would also a first for many of the enemy pilots as well, yet still Adam knew that the Kiran forces vastly outnumbered those of the Leviathan and the Polimors. In a normal battlefield assessment, this one would be lost before it even began, and the tragic deaths of thousands of young fighters.

Yet this was not a normal battle. Once the Goliath was defeated, many of the Kirans were expected to lose the courage to fight, especially if the Leviathan was still operational and able to take a terrible toll on their numbers. The key, however, was taking out the Goliath, and it was the task of the fighters to soften up the target.

Eric McCarthy exited the elevator on Level One, between launch bays five and six. He wore a standard Leviathan blue jumpsuit uniform, and except for the fact that he was the only Human on the floor, he blended in with all the other hundreds of crewmembers going about their duties.

Adam held back until Eric entered bay five and then sprinted forward to the massive entry door. Eric was skirting the port bulkhead, apparently heading for a lone fighter set off by itself. Adam wasn’t even aware Eric knew how to pilot a craft like this, yet he seemed determined to get to this ship and without delay. An entry ladder was deployed from the cockpit, and without hesitation, Eric climbed up and reached inside. He withdrew a tact helmet and slipped it over his head.

“So how we going to do this?’ Adam asked from the base of the entry ladder.

Startled, Eric whipped around and glared down at Adam without saying a word.

“Well, son, do we fight it out like men?”

And then Eric smiled; too many times in the past Adam had seen that same wicked grin displayed on the face of Nigel McCarthy. It made him cringe.

“I’d rather not, Mr. Cain. It fact I had a more subtle idea in mind, and now that you’re here, I say it’s time to put the plan into action.”

Adam saw Eric divert his eyes, to look down past him and to the floor where he stood. Not sure whether to break his own vision from Eric, Adam hesitated. But then he did a quick glance to the deck; it was a tiny, barely visible grid spread out at the base of the ladder. Comprehension came a moment too late, as fifty-thousand volts shot up through his body. The pain lasted only a second before Adam collapsed unconscious on the landing deck.

Obscured as the fighter was from the rest of the hangar deck, Eric McCarthy climbed down the ladder and manhandled a deadweight Adam Cain into the rear seat of the two-seat fighter. Next he removed the chocks from the front wheels of the craft and then settled into the pilotseat with confidence. He secured the canopy and activated the drive train. The tiny craft began to move forward.

Eric steered the dart-shaped craft to a point where it joined up with a parade of similar vessels heading for the launch airlock. Twenty-five at a time would enter and then launch, before the next cadre would repeat the process. Eric was in the third group to disembark the Leviathan.

The tiny fighter had gravity compensators yet no artificial gravity. It could spare the pilot from the impossible g-forces of combat in space, yet that was all. At one point, Eric had to unstrap and reach behind him to secure the still unconscious Adam Cain in the safety harness, just to keep him from floating around the cockpit.

A few minutes later, and as the units around him began to form up for an assault on the Kiran ships protecting the Goliath, Eric pointed the fighter in a direction ninety degrees to the north and punched the accelerator to the max.

Almost immediately his comm began to blare as controllers aboard the Leviathan began to question his maneuver. Eric reached out and turned off the audio.

Within a few minutes Eric McCarthy was a half-light-year above the plane of the battle that was just now beginning to light up the space behind him. It was then that he changed course, sweeping over the battle field until he could detect the massive gravity signature of the Goliath directly below him. He was sure observers aboard the warship could see him on their scopes, yet being as well-shielded as they were he would be of no concern to them.

And that’s when he punched in the access code Mios Valnon had given him and opened a link to the Goliath.

“Attention Goliath, this is Eric McCarthy, the offspring of Lord Nigel McCarthy, requesting a link be established.” He repeated the message and then leaned back in the seat, waiting for the inevitable reply.

********

An emaciated creature seated at the secure comm station on the bridge of the Goliath heard the message in his earphones. With so much chatter taking place between units, there were no broadcast comms allowed to muddle up the relative quiet of the bridge. The alien replayed the message twice before deciding to act. He stood and nervously approached the Lord of the Kiran Clan.

“Forgive the intrusion, My Lord, yet I have received a secure communication which may require your attention.”

Nigel frowned. “Who’s it from?”

“The voice claims to go by the name of Eric McCarthy. He further claims to be your offspring.”

“And this is a secure comm link?”

“Yes, My Lord.”

“Where is the source?”

“That is the strange part. It is appearing from a point outside the field of engagement, at a ninety-degree angle above our current orientation.”

Nigel took a moment to grin. He also noticed the concerned look on the face of Simone Dubois.

“It could be a trap,” she said.

“Of course it could, yet I was half expecting something like this.” He addressed the comm officer. “Have the link established here at my station.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

The alien rushed away and within five seconds the face of Eric McCarthy, framed by the tact helmet he wore, appeared on the twelve inch screen at Nigel’s station.

“I see you have grown since the last time I saw you,” Nigel said with a thin smile. Simone came to look at the screen from behind Nigel.

“That’s what children tend to do, father.”

“What do you want?” Simone said with venom in her tone.

Nigel frowned and raised a hand to silence her. “Calm down, Simone. This is my flesh and blood you’re addressing, so how about a little courtesy?”

“He’s with Cain!”

“On the contrary, ma’am,” Eric said, his own grin spreading wide. He reached up and adjusted the cockpit camera to focus on the rear seat. Adam Cain was there, eyes closed, mouth open and drool draining out in the zero gravity.

“I have a present for you, father, a prized possession I believe you lost a couple of weeks ago.”

“Is he dead?”

“No, just stunned.”

“And now you wish to come aboard? You know there are those here who don’t trust you.” He cast a furtive glance back at Simone.

“I’m just one man, what harm could I cause? Beside, father, I believe it’s time we met…and discussed the future. I see that your prospects here in the Tanic Galaxy are looking quite promising. I thought maybe we could share in some of the spoils—as father and son.”

“Bullshit! He’s up to something!”

“Now, my love, we must give young Eric the benefit of the doubt. And besides, he does return Cain to me. We’re on verge of destroying the pretentious Leviathan, and now I get to see Adam Cain die right before my eyes. That is bonus I had not been counting on.”

“Don’t do this, Nigel, you’ll regret it.” Simone said with conviction.

“Disengage your screens and discharge all weapons. Bleed the power into space so that even if you wanted to the weapons would be useless. A navigator will provide you a precise approach path. Don’t deviate from it by even a foot. Do all that and you may come aboard.”

“Send the data, father. I am on my way. And please hurry. I don’t want Cain waking up while I’m still in this tiny fighter with him.”

Chapter 40

 “What do you mean you can’t find Adam?” Sherri was apoplectic. “He was in comm the last I heard from him.”

“We can’t find Eric, either.” Riyad’s dark forehead was furrowed with deep crevasses of concern.

“Shit! This can’t be happening. This place is huge—they have to be onboard.”

“Eric’s tracker has been deactivated. It was found in hangar bay five.”

Sherri’s mouth fell open. “You don’t think they left in a fighter, do you?”

“If they did, we’ll never know about it. There are over five hundred that deployed, and most of them will never return.”

“I have something here,” the bearlike alien Jym cried out from a nearby console. Sherri and Riyad rushed to his side.

“Surveillance footage from the hangar deck, time stamped an hour ago.”

The two Humans watched in horror as Adam collapsed to the deck in an epileptic-like seizure, followed by Eric McCarthy placing him in the back of the fighter craft.

“Do we have the call sign for that fighter?” Riyad called out. Jym copied the video to another station on the bridge and an alien seated there soon came back with the reply. “Vessel exited the ship fifty-one minutes ago and was reported deviating from course shortly thereafter. Contact now lost with the craft and the transponder is not functioning.”

“He’s taken him to the Goliath and back to Nigel,” Sherri said through clenched teeth.

“Well, this complicates things,” said Riyad. “We’re supposed to destroy that ship, and now if we do, we take Adam with it.”

Andy Tobias and Qwels Nur came up to the station. “I heard what happened,” Andy said.

“What’s the plan, Admiral?” Riyad asked. Sherri was trembling from anger and fear.

“We stick with the original plan. Nigel must be taken out, and if the only way of doing that is to destroy the Goliath, then we do it.”

The silence was deafening as no one spoke for a full thirty seconds. Finally Sherri spoke: “This is pure shit. I can’t believe it’s come down to this. In order to kill McCarthy, we also have to kill Adam.”

“First things first, Sherri,” said Admiral Tobias. “The Goliath will not be easy to kill, so let’s get our heads back in the game and get on with it.” He turned to Qwels. “How are your units holding up?”

“Not well, Admiral. We are fighting with skill and vigor, yet the enemy has so many more units. We are in need of the Leviathan to assist in the bulk of the battle.”

“That can only happen once the Goliath is gone.”

“Then please make haste,” Qwels said. He looked at the forlorn expressions on the faces of the Humans. “Many will die this day,” he began. “Only in victory will their deaths be honored. Let us not forget them and what they fight for.”

Tobias nodded. “He’s right; now let’s blast this bastard out of existence!”

********

No fewer than fifteen guards surrounded the tiny fighter craft once it slipped into a nearly-deserted hangar bay and the atmosphere was pumped back in. Adam was placed on a cart and driven away, while Eric was escorted—still under guard—to the ready room off the bridge of the Goliath.

Inside were Nigel and Simone. Eric noticed they each wore side arms.

Nigel approached his son with confidence and without fear, while Simone stood back, her right hand resting defiantly on the grip of the MK-17.

“It is so gratifying to see the man standing before me,” Nigel said and he held out a beefy hand to his son. Eric took it and squeezed. Nigel matched the grip, until it was obvious the younger man would have the advantage. “You didn’t learn that trick from Kroekus,” Nigel said.

“It would have crushed his hand.”

“Indeed.” Nigel turned his back on Eric and walked to the couch at the far wall and sat down. He placed a muscular arm along the top of the couch and crossed his legs. There were two chairs placed opposite the couch, soon to be occupied by Eric and Simone.

Eric looked over at the dark haired woman; Nigel took the opening. “Eric, let me introduce you to Simone Dubois. She’s my confidant and mate, so feel free to consider her the mother you never had.”

‘Oh please, don’t do that,” she pleaded. “First of all, I don’t know you well enough, and secondly, I’m not that old to be considered your mother, more like your older sister.”

“That would make the relationship you have with my father rather perverse, would it not?”

“Sharp kid, if I do say so myself.” The grin diminished slightly from Nigel’s face. “But now we must make this quick. There’s a gigantic warship closing in our position that is every bit the equal of this one, so this is really not the time to spend on idle chat. What is it you want of me, son?”

“I will make this quick; I want to be part of your family. Kroekus groomed me to be your heir, at least until you were disgraced and placed on the run by that bastard Adam Cain. I had always looked forward to walking in your footsteps, and I can feel your disappointment that things didn’t work out as they should have in the Milky Way.” Eric then flashed a smile, and it was as if Nigel was looking at a time-warp mirror of himself thirty years ago. “Yet it appears you have recovered nicely. It would seem you were destined to rule—either a planet or galaxy—it doesn’t matter which.”

“And now you expect to just step in and become the heir-apparent to the empire Nigel is building?” Simone stated.

“That’s up to him, Ms. Dubois. I don’t want to infringe on any arrangement the two of you may have regarding succession, but I’m sure there are only so many people in this galaxy you can truly trust, and blood is a very thick compensator. I only wish to be part of—well, all of this. After all, who wouldn’t want to get their share of a galactic empire? I’m just being honest—as well as pragmatic.”

“The kid has a point, Simone. We do have a lot to offer a nineteen year old, much more than what’s waiting for him back in the Milky Way. With Kroekus dead and Dracus about to meet a similar fate, it makes sense that he would want to be part of my legacy.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Simone admitted. “But I believe trust should be earned through time and actions, not simply given out because of some shared DNA.”

“I can understand that, Ms. Dubois. In the meantime, I am just one man, young and inexperienced thanks to the aliens who raised me. I look forward to spending time with my own kind, a race of beings often referred to as supermen. And who better to show me what it means to be Human than my father—the emperor of a galaxy?”

“I say let him stay,” said Nigel McCarthy as he rose from the couch.

“I’ll do what you want, Nigel, you know that.” Simone’s voice was still thick with doubt.

“Good, now I have to get back to the battle. Please remain here, Eric, and make yourself comfortable. There’s a head and a food processing station here in the ready room.”

“Can I not watch from the bridge? The battle—and your victory—should be glorious.”

“I don’t think I need any distractions right at the moment, and having you on the bridge might make me do things just to impress you. Once the battle is over, we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each better. Until then, please remain here. Come, Simone. Your presence is requested on the bridge.”

Nigel rushed out of the ready room, which emptied onto the bridge through the forward doorway, and into a long corridor leading to the officer’s staterooms and the damage control center at the rear.

As she followed Nigel back to the bridge, Simone Dubois stopped in front of Eric and leaned in close. “I want to trust you, I really do; however, at this point I cannot afford that luxury. I will be watching you for the proof I need—either way. Is that understood?”

“Of course, ma’am, I will try not to let you down.”

Eric could see Simone battling her own internal doubts, as she eventually turned away and left him alone in the ready room.

Eric McCarthy stared at the closed door for a long moment, a wide grin escaping his lips. “This could all be mine,” he whispered, “a galaxy and an empire, along with unlimited power and unimaginable wealth. What more could a guy ask for?”

Chapter 41

 “We count over a thousand ships surrounding us, Admiral. It is like a swisher nest back on Rigor.”

“I imagine that to be comparable to a beehive on Earth, Captain. How are the shields holding?”

“They hold, yet they cannot absorb this much energy without eventually burning out. And we have not even taken bolts from the Goliath, not yet.”

“We have to get through this mass of ships and on to the Goliath,” Tobias said. “Captain Krin is right, we cannot stick around here and take this many hits.” Admiral Tobias was addressing his senior advisors, those being Sherri, Riyad, Kaylor and Jym, along with the newest addition, Qwels Nur.

“I can have my remaining local ships clear a path with their sacrifice, Admiral. I regret having to do so, but there is more battle occurring that just here.”

“I also regret having to ask you to do that, but we can’t remained bogged down here while the Goliath goes unscathed. How soon can you organize the units?”

“Five minutes. Prepare for a rapid thrust through the center of my ships for that time frame. It should be enough for you to move the Leviathan into clear space within the vicinity of the Goliath, at least until the enemy can regroup and come at us from the rear.”

“I don’t believe the Goliath will be expecting us to be at full power, so we should have surprise on our side.” Riyad said.

“We will not be at full power if we do not depart this space very soon,” added Captain Krin.

“Agreed,” said Andy Tobias. “Captain, prepare for max sub-light acceleration on my command. Also pre-aim the seeker bolts at the gravity signature of the Goliath. We need to make an impression right away, and the seekers could come as real surprise in their own right.”

On Andy’s command the Leviathan made a radical shift to port and then sped off towards the Goliath. With twenty-four focusing rings at their disposal, they were able to establish influencing gravity wells at just about any angle, and with the internal compensators the most-advanced in two galaxies, the crew was spared the body-crushing effect of such drastic inertia shifts.

To the naked eye, it appeared as though the ship disappeared and then reappeared at another point in space, and in conjunction with the maneuver, they also sent a number of cannon bolts streaking across what was now empty space. Since plasma bolts are ballistic in nature, once fired they close a target in a straight line, unable to be controlled. Yet the Leviathan employed a new technology, at least she did in four of her eighteen weapons batteries.

With these special flash cannon, a small trailing gravity-powered drone is fired a fraction of second behind the leading bolt. This pod is able to create tiny influencing wells along the path of the bolt, now allowing it to be steered towards a target. Admiral Tobias was hoping these seekers would catch the Goliath off guard. Once on target, they would still have to contend with the formidable diffusion screens, but the more hits from the powerful batteries of the Leviathan the sooner the shields would reach their maximum storage capacity and fail. Yet even with the seekers, it was going to be long day of battle, and with the outcome still to be determined.

And now the Leviathan was also experiencing the harassing fire from literally a thousand shield ships guarding the Goliath. Even a vessel as large and powerful as this one was not designed to absorb such a load of plasma fire. Andy Tobias was growing concerned, questioning whether he had bitten off more than he could chew. Simply going up against the Goliath was one thing; it was all the other ships McCarthy had invited to the party that had him worried.

Chapter 42

Simone Dubois placed a small secondary image in the corner of her screen that displayed the interior of the ready room so she could keep an eye on Eric McCarthy. She didn’t trust him, yet until she had some concrete evidence against Nigel’s son, he would never listen to her. So she went about her duties, monitoring security threats surrounding the Goliath, while also watching the secondary screen for anything unusual.

Eric had gone to the head and then made a drink of some kind at the processing station before sitting down at the computer in the room. Nigel and she hadn’t thought to deactivate the device, so she had no idea what he was doing. He could simply be looking for an update on the battle taking place beyond the hull of the Goliath, or he could be up to no good.

She had just begun a frantic search of the various monitors on the ship, trying to isolate that particular unit, when Eric suddenly rose from the chair and left the room through the rear door. She wasn’t sure where he was going, yet she had her suspicions. She changed the parameters of her search, and in a moment had the information she was looking for.

With the MK-17 flash weapon still holstered around her waist, Simone left the bridge, heading for the express elevator. Eric had a head start, yet she knew a quicker route.

********

Eric McCarthy walked nonchalantly down the Level Six corridor watching the room numbers as he passed. Several crewmembers walked by, many without second glances, yet a few did stare, from the rarity of him being a Human, as well as the familiarity of his look. A few even saluted him as they passed.

He came up to a guard seated outside a room and knew he had reached his destination. The guard stood as he approached, and from his expression he appeared to be as confused as most of the others Eric had encountered.

“I am Eric McCarthy, son of the Lord of the Clan. I am here to escort the prisoner to the bridge. Please open the door.”

The guard hesitated. “I have not received such orders, My Lord. It will be a moment as I verify.”

“Go ahead.”

As the crewmember leaned down toward the seat to pick up a datapad, Eric stepped towards him and placed a solid fist to the side of the guard’s head. The alien collapsed to the deck and remained still. Eric stood back and looked at his clenched fist with satisfaction. This was the first creature he’d ever hit, and he was surprised how easy it had been. He had been told how physically superior Humans were to other species, and now he had experienced it firsthand.

He moved to the door only to find it required a security code to open, and with the guard unconscious—and most-likely dead—Eric had no way of knowing the code.

Eric then noticed the alien’s weapon still in its holster. He took it, aimed it at the locking mechanism and fired a bolt. Instantly a brilliant ricochet angled off the metal door, striking the ceiling, then the opposite wall of the corridor and finally the deck next to Eric’s feet. The young man jumped with a squeal and dropped the weapon in his panic.

“Is that you, Eric?” asked a voice from beyond the door.

“Yes it is.”

“Set the weapon at Level-One and then try it again.”

“I could be killed!”

“Just do it. It will work, trust me.”

Eric located the gun on the deck, and after making the adjustments, he stood back a good six feet from the locking mechanism and took aim. He turned his head and squinted as he depressed the trigger, preparing for the worst.

The results were much more satisfying this time, as the lock shattered into a hundred pieces, and the door fell open a few inches.

“That worked, Eric, so now lower the weapon. I’m coming out.”

Adam edged the door open and found an immensely-satisfied-with-himself Eric McCarthy grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “Good job,” Adam said as he noticed the unconscious guard on the deck.

“Yes it was,” Eric beamed. “But now the rest is up to you—”

Eric suddenly fell into Adam, knocking him sideways and to a point where he tripped over the inert body of the guard. The young McCarthy also collapsed on the deck, unconscious, and a moment later Adam knew why.

Simone Dubois stepped into view, clenching the MK-17 she had just used to hammer the side of Eric’s head. She now stepped over both Eric and the guard to stand over Adam, the MK now pointed directly at his head.

“I would have shot him if he wasn’t Nigel’s son; he may do that himself once he learns how he’s been betrayed by his own flesh and blood. Yet you, Adam Cain, you get no special consideration. In fact, Nigel may thank me for doing the one thing he’s never had the courage to do himself.”

Adam glanced around the corridor quickly looking for an escape route. He was sitting on the cold metal deck, with a connecting corridor six feet away. Yet the tall blonde with the flash weapon was only three feet from him, and the way she confidently held the MK told him he wouldn’t make it six inches before she’d blast a hole through his forehead.

“This is so satisfying; I only wish Nigel could be here to see—”

Adam caught sight of the metal chair arcing through the air a split second before it impacted the right shoulder of Simone Dubois. It was the chair the guard had been sitting on, and now being wielded by a suddenly revived Eric McCarthy. The woman fell to the deck, yet just as Eric stepped closer to her and lifted the chair for one final blow, she kicked out with her right foot in an expert combat move and planted her boot firmly into Eric’s midsection.

The young man buckled over, his eyes wide with shock. The guard may have been the first creature he’d ever hit, yet this was his first time he’d been struck. The pain was something he was ill-prepared for.

Eric collapsed onto the woman, who attempted to aim the weapon she still held in her grasp at the young man now clawing at her face. Adam could tell this wasn’t going to last long; Eric had absolutely no hand-to-hand combat training, and it was obvious that was not the case with Simone.

Adam began to climb to his feet just as he saw the two combatants begin to fight for possession of the MK, with two pairs of strong Human hands now wrapped around the device. That’s when Adam saw the thin-metal barrel of the weapon bend over at a forty-five degree angle—just as Simone fingered the trigger.

A loud squealing erupted from the weapon, growing rapidly in volume and pitch. Adam knew what was coming, so in the lighter gravity aboard the Goliath—an accommodation to the aliens who made up the vast bulk of the crew—he kicked off the side wall of the corridor and slid on his stomach into the joining hallway—just as the MK exploded.

Choking smoke filled the corridor, and there was a strange rumbling vibration in the deck that continued for several seconds after the explosion. Adam stood, and after taking a moment to gather his resolve, he looked around the corner.

It was as bad as he expected, with the walls, ceiling and deck covered with dripping body parts painted in red mush. There was nothing left of either Eric or Simone that was recognizable; even the guard’s body was now part of the bloody mixture.

Adam knew that when bolt launchers—such as the MK-series—have their barrels obstructed, then triggering a bolt would result in an overload and an explosion resembling that of a powerful hand grenade. He had been fortunate that a joining hallway was nearby. Otherwise they would be cleaning his remains off the walls, along with the others.

But now he had a job to do, and he was sure the explosion would attract attention.

He headed down the familiar passageway of the Goliath, a vessel he’d spent two months aboard before Nigel captured it. Adam and Eric, in their earlier research aboard the Leviathan into what a single person—or two—could do to disable a ship as large as the Goliath, it had been concluded that there wasn’t much that could be done; however, they could do something to make the ship more vulnerable to outside forces. They could disable one or more of the shield banks. Yet even that wasn’t a sure fix. The Goliath had four distinct diffusion screens, with the controls for each separated by at least a hundred yards of guarded passageway. It had been designed that way, just so what Adam was contemplating couldn’t be done. The most he could hope for was to disable one of the banks, along with the added hope that the Leviathan would react in time before the shields rebooted.

The control room for the starboard shield bank was the closest, so Adam sprinted down the corridor, passing startled crewmembers, none of which had the nerve to question a Human running past them. He entered the open doorway of the control room and was immediately confronted by three aliens, each wearing the distinctive orange jumpsuit of the Goliath crew. Adam didn’t have time for pleasantries, so he dispatched them quickly and heaved their limp bodies into the outer corridor.

Unfortunately, none of them carried weapons, and he didn’t have the time to search the room for any. Instead he moved to the shield control console and sat down. He was somewhat familiar with the operation of diffusion shields, yet this control board was a lot more complicated than any he’d ever seen. He not only had to find a way of deactivating the shields, but also to make it impossible for them to be reengaged, while also giving himself time to get off the Goliath before all hell broke loose. As he stared at the myriad of controls that made up the control console, he didn’t have a clue where to begin.

Chapter 43

Even though the explosion occurred six levels below the bridge deck, Nigel McCarthy still felt it, if only its faint reverberations afterwards.

“There has been an explosion on Level Six,” a crewmember reported, which only confirmed what Nigel already knew and suspected. Level Six was where he had ordered Adam Cain to be held.

He looked over at Simone’s station and found it vacant. He gritted his teeth. He was reluctant to speculate beyond the obvious, yet when he saw the small inset image on her screen, showing a now-vacant ready room, he knew his suspicions were correct.

And he had really cared for the tall Amazon….

Now he pulled his own MK-17 and dialed it up to Level-One as he left the bridge. He had a feeling of inevitability as he entered the express elevator, heading for Level One—the engines, weapons and launch bay level. He didn’t even bother stopping at Level Six; he knew what he was seeking wouldn’t be there, and when he exited the elevator forty seconds later he already had a pretty good idea where he’d find it.

The three unconscious bodies in the passageway outside the starboard shield control room verified his belief, and now he slid along the side wall and did a quick look inside the room.

There was Adam Cain—and only Adam Cain—sitting at the main shield control panel and facing the entrance. He was frantically pushing buttons, turning knobs and pulling levers. Nigel stepped into the room, his weapon aimed at Adam’s head twenty feet away.

With the gravity of the Goliath set at seventy-five percent of Earth normal, both Humans would experience increase speed and strength compared to the alien crewmembers. Yet here were two Humans, so the odds were pretty much even.

Adam spotted Nigel the moment he entered and managed to duck under the lip of the console just as the first bolt singed his hair just above his left ear. He dove to the deck and began to crawl to his right. Most of the equipment in the room was elevated slightly on six inch supports, so Nigel was able to see which direction Adam headed.

McCarthy crouched down and began to rapidly move to his left in order to cut off Adam’s escape. What he didn’t know was that as soon as Adam was sure Nigel had seen him move to his right, he had reversed course and scurried off to the left. He came out from behind a bank of controls, just as Nigel noticed the movement behind him.

Adam placed a well-aimed spin kick onto Nigel’s gun hand, sending the lightweight weapon soaring high into the air and across the room. Adam watched its flight until it hit the deck and slid under an equipment bank.

Adam’s mistake was to become so engrossed in the flight path of the MK that he didn’t notice Nigel coming at him in a bull-like charge. The two came together with a thud, leaving their footing, and crashing into a metal box with enough force to knock the air from Adam’s lungs. He began to cough, as several powerful blows struck his midsection. Then an unseen fist drove itself into the left side of his head, and soon Adam was face down on the cold deck with the taste of blood in his mouth.

He rolled over, raising his arms and legs into a defensive posture for the follow up attack, an attack that never came. He widened his eyes, only to see Nigel McCarthy standing in the center of the room with a toothy grin on his face.

“So Adam, it has finally come down to this—the grudge match Kroekus had envisioned.” He held up his hands and wiggled his fingers. “Just the two of us, with no weapons but these.” He backed up some and squared his stance as Adam climbed to his feet. “As we begin this, I want you to remember every session I had with you over the past six months, and how you know you can’t defeat me, not now, not ever.”

As Adam stood, noticing the sight in his left eye begin to grow narrower and still with the taste of blood in his mouth, something else incredible dawned on him. He felt no pain. Even though Nigel had already attacked his ribs and his head, it was as if none of that mattered. He was aware of the sensation of pain, yet his mind refused to let him give into it, and at that moment, Adam knew why. He grinned.

“Well, Nigel, it seems as though you’ve created a monster,” Adam said with an even, confident voice. “I remember you once said that after suffering through your torture for so long, my mind would come to accept the pain as normal.” Adam held his arms out to his sides. “It looks like you were right. I thought that sensation only applied within my prison, but now I see I was wrong.”

Adam squared up his own stance and narrowed his eyes. “Give it your best shot, asshole. It won’t be enough.”

Nigel McCarthy roared and fell into a fullback’s sprint. Adam made little effort to avoid the huge man, allowing himself to be carried through the air until he was pinned against another piece of equipment and with Nigel’s thick left forearm pressing against his throat.

“Let’s see how well you cope when you can’t breathe.”

Adam did fight for air, yet he didn’t panic. Instead he placed a couple of intense body blows into Nigel’s gut. Still the huge Brit pressed him into the wall. Next Adam began to force his right hand up and between Nigel’s arm and his neck, until he could join his right hand with his left and push away.

Nigel suddenly released his grip and spun to his right, grabbing Adam by his jumpsuit and throwing him halfway across the room. Adam was on his feet in a flash and met Nigel’s charge with a rapid series of lefts and rights that caused the Englishman to stagger backwards. And then they faced off again, with Nigel being more careful this time, moving to his left as the two of them punched at each other like boxers in a ring. After feigning with left, McCarthy managed to land a solid right on Adam’s jaw. Adam simply shook off the blow with a grin.

“There’s nothing you can do to me that you haven’t already done,” Adam said. “Your sadistic fun and games have conditioned me for this moment.” Adam then took a quick step forward and managed to land his own right against Nigel’s jaw. “Now I’m getting bored of this whole scene, so saw goodbye, Nigel McCarthy.”

Adam continued to strike at Nigel, who did his best to counter many of the blows, yet not all of them. However, at one point managed to duck under one of Adam’s right crosses and wrap his tree-trunk-like arms around Adam’s midsection from behind. He lifted Adam off the ground and forced his face into a metal wall. He then worked his right arm around until it was across Adam’s neck.

Again, Adam didn’t panic. Instead he took hold of Nigel’s right hand and began to separate the fingers from the fist. Individual fingers are no match for a full hand bending them backwards, and soon Nigel released his grip around Adam’s neck and found himself being twisted around to take Adam’s place facing the metal wall.

Now with his right hand pressed high into his back, Nigel screamed out in pain. Adam then placed his left hand around Nigel’s face and grabbed his chin. Then in a flash, he released his grip on Nigel’s hand, and placed his freed right hand against the back of Nigel’s head. And then with a quick jerk of his hands in opposite directions, Adam twisted Nigel’s head until a loud crack was heard.

Instantly Adam felt Nigel’s body go limp, as his broken neck severed the spinal cord. Adam pressed against the lifeless body of Nigel McCarthy for a few moments, closing his eyes and even fighting back an urge to cry. But finally, he grabbed Nigel under the arms and tossed the rag-doll-like body into the center of the room.

Nigel McCarthy, former Lord of the Kiran Clan and all-around pain-in-the-ass throughout two galaxies, was dead.

Adam looked up from the body to see four aliens dressed in orange jumpsuits standing in the doorway and staring at him with a look of absolute terror. When they saw him take notice of them, they turned and ran from the room.

With one last look at the lifeless body of Nigel McCarthy, Adam ran off to where he’d seen the MK-17 slide under the piece of equipment. He fell onto his stomach and reached underneath, almost to his limit, before his fingers found the weapon. He then rushed back to the control console.

The MK was already set at Level-One, so all he had to do now was manipulate the targeting computer. He always despised the computers, never using them himself, and one of the most perplexing features they offered was the option to set a firing delay. He had no idea when that would come in handy—except in this very unique situation.

He bent the barrel of the weapon until it was at a ninety degree angle from normal and then set the timer for the maximum delay of three minutes. That wouldn’t be enough time for him to get off the ship, but it would give him a head start. It also wouldn’t give the crew much time to locate what was now a bomb and get it away from the shield controls before it detonated.

He knew all power for the starboard bank of diffusion screens ran through this one console, so blowing it to smithereens should do the trick of knocking out the bank and keeping it from being reactivated. Adam looked under the console until he found a suitable hiding place for the weapon—and then he fingered the trigger.

The instant blast of the deafening squeal could be heard echoing throughout the room and the corridor outside, making it impossible to locate the source. It seemed to come from everywhere.

Now without hesitation, Adam barreled into the outer passageway and ran for the evacuation chambers where the escape pods were located. The one he was looking for was only fifty yards down the corridor, and even then he had to play fullback through the mass of orange-jumpsuited aliens who got in his way.

When he found the right door, he pressed the side control and the door slide open. Adam Cain rushed in—and then promptly slid to a stop with his heart now firmly in his throat. The entire room was devoid of escape pods. Not a single one occupied the round launch tubes, having all be used by panicked crew when Nigel had first attacked the Goliath, and none had been replaced in the rushed repair job in preparation for her current mission.

Adam sighed. “So much for Plan A,” he said out loud to the empty room. “Looks like it’s onto Plan B.”

Chapter 44

 “Admiral!” Captain Krin called out across the noisy and crowded bridge of the Leviathan. “The starboard bank of diffusion screens on the Goliath just shut down.”

“They winked?”

“No, sir. Readings indicate a dead bank, no energy feeding them at all.”

“It’s Adam,” Sherri cried out from where she stood next to Andy Tobias.

“It has to be,” Riyad concurred.

“Fire control…prepare seekers…target the starboard side of the Goliath.”

“Yes sir.”

“But Adam’s aboard,” Sherri protested.

“What the hell do you want me to do? The Leviathan is holding on by a thread, and now the Goliath is vulnerable. I have to take the shot.”

“Admiral, hold on a second,” said Riyad. “The Goliath must know they’re a sitting duck and only moments away from annihilation. Ask for their surrender.”

“Are you crazy? McCarthy would never agree to that.”

“Adam somehow got the shields to drop, so who’s to say Nigel is still alive.”

“What can it hurt to ask, Andy?” Sherri added.

Tobias surveyed the desperate faces staring back at him. He certainly didn’t want to sacrifice Adam’s life if it wasn’t necessary. And yet he also didn’t want to miss this opportunity.

“Admiral, there is a message coming in from the Goliath.” Captain Krin’s words came as a welcome reprieve for the decision Andy didn’t want to make.

“Broadcast!” the Admiral ordered.

“Attention Leviathan, this is First-Commander Hoscis of the Goliath.”

“This is Admiral Andy Tobias, go ahead First-Commander.”

“As you are aware we have lost our right side diffusion shields, and with no prospect of reactivation, my ship is now extremely vulnerable, not only from your ship, but also from others occupying the region. We therefore ask that you cease aggressive action against us and accept our immediate surrender. There is no need to continue what is a losing effort.”

“First-Commander, we would welcome the—”

“Admiral, we have a secondary contact immediately above us and closing fast!” Captain Krin’s voice was a scream, something highly unusual for a Rigorian.

Andy glared at the image on the main view screen of First-Commander Hoscis. “It is not one of ours, Admiral,” the alien with the green-tinted skin said as his head began to tremble visibly.

“Launches detected, multiple, Admiral.”

“Target?”

They appear to be heading for the Goliath. And Admiral, they are seekers.”

On the tact screen before him, Andy Tobias saw the Goliath begin to move off at incredible speed. Her shields may be down, but she could still run. And yet the barrage of seeker bolts that were now lighting up the space between the Leviathan and the Goliath continued to track her with deadly efficiency.

And then just moments before she reached the boundary of the dampening field, where the mighty warship could escape into a protective event horizon, the first seekers reached the unprotected hull of the Goliath. These bolts were of equal strength to the Leviathan, which carried ten times the energy level of conventional flash cannon bolts, and when they contacted the metal hull without resistance, the effect was catastrophic. Gaping holes were ripped open, and the escaping air pressure from inside the spacecraft blew out the entire starboard side of the Goliath. The huge ship began to bleed off speed rapidly, allowing the remaining seekers to catch up. This final salvo of eight seeker bolts shredded the hull of the Goliath, perforating the starship amidships.

And then something exploded—probably a number of the gravity generators—and the whole of space for half a light-year was bathed in the bluish-white glow of the resulting miniature supernova.

The bridge crew of the Leviathan stood in shocked silence watching the afterglow of the explosion on the main view screen. For some, it was the shear scope of the explosion that brought their silence. For others, it was the harsh reality that no one could have lived through such an event.

“Comm coming in, Admiral; and you will find this hard to believe.” Captain Krin’s cryptic message jolted Andy out of his stunned numbness.

“Greetings, Admiral Tobias!” said a jubilant face on the main view screen. “Looks like we got here just in time. Kind of ironic isn’t it that a Captain named David would take care of your Goliath problem.”

Captain Krin had been right; Andy couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Dave? Dave Robe? What the hell are you doing here?”

The joy on Captain David Robe’s face was hard to contain. “It seems that right after you and the others left, we discovered a third ship being built by Kroekus. I guess when money is no object you can pretty much do what you want. Well, we commandeered it and now, crewed mainly by Humans, we followed you here to see if you need any help. Even named the ship the Kraken, following your lead of naming these ships after huge, badass creatures. And it looks like we arrived right in the nick of time. You were taking quite a beating. Fortunate about those shields going down, but hey, sometimes you just need a little luck.”

“Why didn’t you let us know you were coming?”

“Orders, Admiral, something about maintaining a low profile until we knew what we were up against. A secret weapon has the most impact when it’s kept secret until needed.”

Sherri Valentine moved into the line of sight of Andy’s screen camera. Dave Robe waved and sent her a wide smile.

“Hello, Sherri. It’s been a long time. Glad to see you’re well. How’s Adam and Riyad.”

Tears began to flow freely down her cheeks. “Riyad’s fine—but Adam was aboard the Goliath!”

The resolution of the video between starships was excellent, so everyone was able to see the blood rush from Robe’s face. His mouth fell open and his eyes began to gloss over.

“What was he doing there? We’ve been monitoring some of your communications and I understood you rescued him from McCarthy.”

“We did,” said Riyad as he stepped up to place his arms around Sherri. “But then he went aboard the Goliath; he’s the reason the shields went down.”

“Oh my god, I didn’t know!”

“How could you,” said Andy Tobias. “And to make matters even more tragic, we had just accepted the surrender of the Goliath.”

The facial recognition feature of the bridge monitor aboard Robe’s ship followed him as he collapsed into his command chair. “I’m so sorry, you know I am; Adam was a friend. I would never have done anything to intentionally hurt him.”

“We know that, Dave,” said Andy. “It was just an unfortunately series of events. But I’m sure Adam would chalk it up to a necessary sacrifice for the good of the mission. Don’t let it get to you too much.”

“Andy, I think we both know that’s not going to happen.”

“Understood.” Andy looked around at the others, most with their heads in their chests. He didn’t know what to say. He turned back to the screen. “Dave, how about you and your secret weapon help out with the mop-up? It looks like a lot of the remaining Kiran ships are bugging out, but let’s not allow them to get away without paying a price.”

“Aye, aye sir. I suppose it’s the least I can do, while I’m still in command.”

“Knock it off, Dave. No one’s going to relieve you of your command.”

“I was talking about resigning.”

“Bullshit, and that’s an order!” Tobias yelled. “You did your job, and no one’s going to say otherwise. Now snap out of it. I need you and your command abilities. Don’t let a simple casualty of war cause you to fall apart.”

“Yes sir. Proceeding as ordered, Robe out.”

Chapter 45

Six hours later the bridge of the Leviathan was nearly deserted, manned only by a skeleton crew after Captain Krin had given most of the others time off to relax after the pressure of the battle. However, none of Adam’s Crusaders had left the bridge. In fact, they had been joined by Nurick and Dracus for what was turning into a vigil for the fallen Adam Cain.

No one had said a word for going on ten minutes when Sherri broke the morbid silence with a whisper.

 “Maybe he got out in an escape pod.”

“If any pods had been released we would be picking up active transponders,” Jym said from his console. “They are triggered automatically upon launch.”

Sometimes Sherri hated Jym’s alien lack of compassion.

“Not all of them,” Dracus said as he sat up straighter in his chair.

“Yes, all of them,” Jym countered. The little bear hated to be contradicted.

“All normal escape pods do, my little friend,” Dracus replied

“What are you talking about, Dracus,” Riyad asked with frustration thick in his voice.

The slender alien looked over at Nurick. “As the first battle for the Goliath was beginning, Nurick, Eric and I escaped in a special pod designated just for me as the First Advisor to Kroekus—and for being his friend for all those years. It has a transponder, yet it can only be activated manually.”

“Good,” said Riyad with a sigh. “I’ll note that for the record.”

Dracus continued to stare at Nurick until the Vicorean’s tiny beady eyes suddenly grew wide. Then simultaneously the two aliens blurted out, “Kroekus!”

“What about Kroekus?” Andy asked, now taking an interest in the cryptic conversation.

“Kroekus also had a specially-designated escape pod aboard, hidden from the crew and just for him,” Dracus explained. “Unfortunately, he never got the chance to use it. There is a chance that unless there was damage to that specific section of the ship the repair crew would have missed it completely.”

“But how would Adam know about this pod and where to find it?” Sherri asked.

“I do not know if he would—yet Eric did.”

“And why would he know?” Sherri followed up.

“Because he asked me about it two days ago.”

“And you didn’t think that was strange?” Andy said as he moved closer to Jym and hunched over his small body.

“He is—was—a Human, and Humans often do and say odd things. I thought nothing of it at the time.”

“Jym, can you do a mass search for anything that separated from the Goliath just before the explosion?” Andy asked.

“Yes, although there is a lot of clutter in the recording. Along with flash bolts, there were also a few fighters launching at that time.”

“But the fighters have a chemical and gravity signature that can be isolated,” Kaylor said as he slipped into a seat next to Jym.

A screen then lit up before Jym, showing a colorful display of conflicting hues, looking like a four-year-old’s masterpiece finger-painting hanging on the refrigerator door. But then as Jym isolated—and then discarded—the signatures of fighter ships, plasma bolts and even communication radiation, the image began to clear up and become much more basic. Soon there was only one anomaly left—a thin line shooting out from the Goliath with a tiny white dot at the tip.

“That’s it!” Andy cried out. “Any readings?”

Jym was already busy tapping keys on the board. “Nothing, no heat or even electronic hum. It is a dead ball of metal.”

“We’re not even sure Adam’s aboard; it’s more likely that traitor Eric McCarthy.” Riyad said.

Andy stood up straight. “We’ll never know for sure standing around here.” He glanced around the bridge until he spotted Captain Krin, off by himself in a dim corner, half asleep. “Captain, call down and have a medical jumpship prepped and placed at our disposal.” He then smiled and looked around at the anxious faces staring back at him. “Everyone who’s coming along shake a leg.”

Nurick’s eyes grew wide, yet he took a step back, lifted his right leg and began to shake it. Everyone burst out laughing, including the other aliens, Kaylor, Jym and Dracus. They had been around Humans long enough to recognize a colloquialism when they heard one. To his embarrassment, Nurick had not.

********

The medical jumpship was a combination ambulance and tow-truck all in one, designed specifically to rescue damaged fighter ships and their crews in outer space. It was a long vessel with a bulbous tail end which was essentially a large airlock, and used to scoop up derelict or inoperable spaceships.

Kaylor piloted the jumpship until it was next to the round, gray orb that had once been Kroekus’s last-ditch method of escaping the Goliath in the event of an emergency. At the time McCarthy had invaded the giant starship, Kroekus felt confident he could use the pod to escape unharmed. Yet when Nigel attacked on specific decks, Adam had isolated those decks by sealing off the ship into thirds. The Silean’s only avenue of escape had been cut off—and a half hour later, so was his head.

Kaylor matched the speed of the pod, and the occupants of the crowded pilothouse craned to get a look; what they saw only caused hope to vanish. The orb was deformed on one side, charred and with several external nodes now melted against the mottled steel hull, a result of the massive explosion when the Goliath disintegrated. There was one small porthole, and as the pod slowly rotated, all they could see through the bubbled glass was darkness.

Next Kaylor maneuvered the medical ship until it was in front of the rescue pod before opening the huge rear airlock and slowly decreasing speed. The pod entered the gaping bay and moved further in until it contacted the huge rubber bumpers at the end of the room. Kaylor then closed the hatch and pressurized the chamber.

Next he activated the internal gravity well—slowly—until the large pod rested on the metal deck. Deformed as the sphere was, it rolled to one side, coming to a final rest with the escape hatch on the bottom.

The pilothouse cleared out, leaving only Kaylor at the controls.

“Do not touch it!” Nurick cried out as multiple pairs of Human hands reached for the pod. “It is as cold as space and will freeze your hands instantly.”

The rescue ship was equipped with an array of tools and clothing for handling such an event and after donning thick rubber gloves, the team attempted to roll the pod over off the escape hatch. When that didn’t work, Andy Tobias had them activate their magnetic boots and ordered Kaylor to reduce the ship’s gravity to only a tenth of normal.

Now the pod moved easily, and once the porthole was accessible, they all crowded in with flashlights darting about like blasts for the proverbial ray gun. Yet the glass was too charred and bubbled for them to see inside, and the control mechanism was now just a mass of smooth, solidified metal spread out over the hatch.

With no other recourse, Riyad and Andy set about with cutting lasers to free the hatch. Lasers such as these were also common equipment aboard the medical ship, with pilots often having to be cut out of mangled spacecraft; even then it took over ten minutes to complete the job.

Riyad then took a crowbar to the hatch, and with some effort began to pry it open. Once a purchase was revealed, eager, gloved hands reached out to pull it open fully.

Sherri was the first to stick her head into the pod, the beam from her flashlight leading the way. She gasped when she saw a body slumped over in one of the three seats in the pod, strapped in and alone. She recognized it immediately as that of Adam Cain. He appeared to be dead.

With the gravity still at such a low level, Sherri propelled herself into the interior of the pod with ease, and a second later was straddling Adam’s body with her hand on his neck, feeling for a pulse. “I’ve got nothing here!” she cried out. Her voice echoed off the cold metal interior of the pod like dirge. She then ripped open his already torn tunic and planted an ear against his chest. She kept it there for a full thirty second while tears escaped from her eyes. The entrance to the pod was now filled with the concerned faces of the other members of the team.

And then Sherri’s eyes grew wide. “I have something! It’s faint, but there. He’s alive! Hand me a neck brace.”

After she had wrapped the white apparatus around his neck, she unbuckled the straps, and in the light gravity, was able to easily lift him out of the seat. “Keep him straight. I don’t know the extent of his injuries and we don’t want to make matters worse.”

Helping hands reached out, and soon Adam Cain—or what was left of him—was out of the escape pod and headed for the ship’s medical bay.

Chapter 46

Back aboard the Leviathan, Adam was placed in a medical coma for three weeks as the swelling in his brain subsided and his various other injuries healed. Alien medical science helped with his recovery, yet even at the time the doctors said it was okay to bring him out of the coma he was still in pretty rough shape.

All the players were in the room when he regained consciousness. There was Sherri, Riyad and Andy, along with Kaylor, Jym, Nurick and Dracus. Even Captain Dave Robe was present, although he stood back from the others, still feeling guilty for what he had done. Everyone had assured him he was not at fault; any one of them would have done the same if the roles were reversed. That still didn’t mitigate the awful feeling he knew would remain with him for the rest of his life, even with Adam expected to make a full recovery.

Once the drugs began to flow through his veins, Adam’s eyes began to flutter and his lips trembled. Then slowly he opened his eyes—mere bloodshot slits—before they fluttered to a close again.

But then a thin, wide smile began to stretch slowly across his face, while he opened his mouth and let a faint whisper escape.

“What did he say?” Riyad asked. Sherri was sitting on the side of the bed and holding Adam’s right hand. She was the closest to him. “I don’t know; it was too faint.”

Then Adam frowned. He slowly licked his lips with a dry tongue, before taking a deep breath and opening his mouth again to speak. This time the words came out clear enough for all in the room to hear.

He said: “Mission accomplished.”

Epilogue

Adam was up and walking a week later, which was just in time to meet Nurick and Qwels Nur at launch bay number four. They were leaving to return to Vicor, and from what Adam understood, to a hero’s welcome.

“I’ve been out of touch for a while, so what’s the latest news?” he asked Nurick just before the brothers boarded the shuttle that would take them back to Qwels’ flagship for the journey home.

“Dinis Grof has been arrested by the Council and the Kiran’s have sued for peace, having ceased all aggressive actions,” said Nurick with a smile. “It appears that their heart is not into war—that was something advocated by Nigel McCarthy and his co-conspirators.”

“And with their fleet reduced to less than ten percent of what it was at the peak of their power, they have little choice,” said Qwels. “I wonder how much their change of heart has to do with that fact?”

“Quite a lot, I would imagine,” Adam said. “And now it’s your job to make sure they don’t get the itch for war again anytime soon.”

“As long as you Humans do not assume control of any more of the Clans we just may be able to do that.”

Adam’s smile vanished. “Unfortunately, with the new dark matter drive, there’s going to be a lot more interaction between the galaxies.”

“An unavoidable circumstance, Adam; however, we of Tanic have now had close up experience with what to expect. I believe there will be adjustments made on both sides, yet we will be cautious.”

“Good for you. And there’s a saying which you should look up once you gain access to our Library. It’s a Human saying that says, ‘Beware of Greeks bearing gifts.’”

“What are Greeks?”

“Just look it up. Once you’ve read the context you’ll know what I mean. But until then, don’t trust anyone, especially people from my galaxy.”

“I believe you are too hard on yourselves. We would certainly trust you and the others you surround yourself with. You are good and noble creatures.”

Adam just smiled and patted Nurick on the arm. “Please, research the saying. And watch your backs, looks can be deceiving.”

“And yet with your enemy Nigel McCarthy dead and with the knowledge that his offspring was the mastermind of the plan that allowed you to finally accomplish your mission, you must be feeling very satisfied.”

“I am satisfied, my friends. Eric McCarthy really came through in the end. I couldn’t have done it without him.” He shrugged. “I suppose there is some good in all of us.”

“So what new adventures await Adam Cain?”

Adam laughed. “I’m going home, my friends. The Leviathan and the Kraken leave in a week. After that, I’m hoping for a quiet retirement on a peaceful tropical island somewhere.”

“That seems rather dull.”

“Dull sounds really good right about now,” Adam said. And then he smiled and sent the two aliens a wink. “But who knows what the future may bring? We’ll just have to wait and see what the next chapter reveals.”

The End

of

The Masters of War

(Expanded Edition)

In the next Adam Cain Adventure…

Upon returning to the Milky Way, Adam and his team are confronted with a new enemy, one that that threatens the entire galaxy and not just a single race or planet. It’s something so truly alien that the Primes of the galaxy have trouble comprehending its savage actions, let along its very existence.

Never have the combined civilized species of the Milky Way faced such a threat, and even the supermen from Earth may not be enough to save them.

(Coming Summer of 2015)

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Also by T.R. Harris

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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

Book 6 – Cain’s Crusaders

Book 7 – The Apex Predator

Book 8 – A Galaxy to Conquer

Book 9 – The Masters of Wars

Jason King – Agent to the Stars Series

Book 1 – The Enclaves of Sylox