The War of Pawns

The Human Chronicles Saga Book #3

T.R. Harris

In this alien universe, WE are the Supermen

Copyright 2012 by T.R. Harris

Kindle Edition

ISBN: 978-0-9858849-2-5

Edited by

Lionel Dyck

Sherry Dixon

Grammarly

And of course…

Nikko, the Grammar Dog

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. 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.

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Contents

Adam Cain…

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

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Chapter 1

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Adam Cain…

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His story continues…

Chapter 1

Humans…. Damn, Humans!

Senior Overlord Yan’wal Ra Melk closed the file on his computer and stood from his desk. He moved to the spacious grooming station in his stateroom aboard the Class-7 starship UN-444 and splashed water on his face, before calling up a strong intoxicant beverage from the dietary module.

Once refreshed, the Overlord returned to his desk to mentally digest the information he’d just received. What he had learned did not please him, not in the least.

It was the autopsy report on the creatures recovered at the battle of Zylim-4, including the bodies of the two dead Klin. Since no one in the Expansion had seen a Klin in the flesh for nearly four thousand years—even a dead one—the information was of mild interest to the rapt historian within the Overlord; the significance of this discovery was still working its way through his consciousness. What impact it would have on the Expansion remained to be seen, but undoubtedly it would be major.

Unless, of course, it was overshadowed by the revelations in the second part of the report he just read….

This concerned the other race of beings involved in the Zylim-4 battle—that of the creatures called Humans. Although the Klin autopsy had not produced any real surprises—after all Klin were probably the oldest known race in the Alliance—the report on the Humans had left Yan’wal with a feeling of foreboding of which he was very unfamiliar.

As the report related, the Humans were Primes—as were 80-percent of the known superior races in the galaxy—yet there were features within their anatomy which set them apart from most of the others. First of all, their bodies had remarkably dense bone structure and muscle mass, accompanied by a thick, tenacious skin that formed an almost impervious barrier against the elements.

In addition, the report surmised that the Humans came from a heavy-gravity world. From Yan’wal’s brief exposure to the creatures, this conflicted with what he knew of other such species, since the Humans did not display any of the slothfulness that was generally associated with heavy-worlders. In fact, these Humans possessed a sophisticated range of coordination, quickness, cunning and even uncanny intelligence, traits he had never before experienced in creatures with such a planetary heritage. The Overlord furrowed his wide brow even more when considering the possible scenarios of the coming clash with the Humans upon their home ground.

Even as he sat in his stateroom, the Overlord knew incredible forces were massing around him for an assault of the Human homeworld—a planet they called Earth. The battle would come months in the future, yet the planning and execution for the attack was the responsibility of him and his senior military staff. In normal circumstances, Yan’wal would have considered such a duty an honor, yet the events of the past few weeks had shaken his confidence to a level that both infuriated and perplexed the Senior Overlord.

First there had been the space battle off the planet Dimloe, where his fleet had nearly been destroyed in the first encounter with the Humans. Even though the conflict had resulted in a Juirean victory, Yan’wal was inclined to accept Fleet Commander Siegor’s assessment that the battle had been lost—until the Humans deliberately sabotaged the outcome in favor of the Juireans. Why they would do this was just another of the enigmas surrounding this barbaric race.

Next was the ground battle on the mining world of Zylim-4. At its conclusion, Yan’wal counted four-hundred thirty-two of his most-skilled Juirean Guard among the dead, with only sixty-three of the Humans as casualties. It was the single-largest loss of Juirean life in a ground battle since the Limon-Polesess Uprising over a thousand years before. In the seventeen major ground battles that took place during that conflict, a little over one thousand of the Guard had been killed – and that was against an entire planet. Now Yan’wal had experienced nearly half as many casualties in a single battle, and against only a handful of untrained and ill-equipped Humans.

In the aftermath of these two encounters, Yan’wal had participated in dozens of conferences with the Council, during which he sensed no blame for these events directed solely at him. the Council was more pragmatic; all they wanted was a resolution to the current crisis.

Yet personally, Yan’wal placed much of the blame for the losses squarely on his shoulders. Although he acknowledged that the Humans had been an unknown entity at the time, he had consistently underestimated the savages. He knew now it had been his Juirean arrogance that had not allowed him to believe that the Humans were nothing more than an annoyance, and that it was the Klin who were the true threat to the Expansion.

In light of his knowledge of history, the Senior Overlord did his best to forgive himself, but it did not come easy. After all, Yan’wal Ra Melk was a Juirean, as well as one of the highest-ranking officials in the government. And as everyone knew, Juireans claimed the title of undisputed rulers of the known galaxy….

Chapter 2

The planet Axlus—the ancestral name of the planet Juir—was located in a dense stellar cluster on the opposite side of the Galactic Core from the Fringe. Through a night ablaze with stars and nebulae, darkness never fully came to the planet, and from the moment the first two pieces of curved glass were placed in a line together and aimed at the skies, the natives of Axlus had known they were not alone in the universe.

From their earliest recorded history, ancient astronomers and mathematicians plotted the paths of the wandering lights in the sky and soon discovered a complex array of other planets orbiting the nearby stars. They also realized that their own world similarly orbited their star—just as did all the others they tracked. As a result, the natives of Axlus never considered themselves to be the center of the universe or their existence unique. And considering the diversity of life upon their own world—in the oceans, on the land, and even among the shapes, sizes and colors of their own kind—they knew beyond doubt that other creatures existed on the neighboring worlds of the cluster.

To them, it was just a matter of time before contact would be made with their brothers among the stars.

Early in their history, electricity had been harnessed and combinations of certain chemicals and minerals were discovered that, when ignited, could lift primitive rockets from the surface, although none of these early efforts reached very far beyond the outer layer of the planet’s atmosphere. Fossil fuels were discovered and utilized, and the natives of Axlus soon began to spread across the surface of the planet to settle in thousands of city-states.

On the nearby planets in the cluster, other races were also evolving. These included the Klin, the Oanneans and the Bals, and each of these races achieved a certain level of sophistication in their civilizations along common paths. There came a time, when through wave transmitters and primitive rockets, contact was made between the more advanced species of the cluster.

The most-technologically advanced of these core races was the Klin. Thoughtful and deliberate, they were exceedingly peaceful and fair-minded. If ever the Klin had warred within their kind, that tendency had been bred out of them thousands of years before. Now they existed simply for the learning, as well as the building of advanced technologies that would allow the other core races in the cluster to finally come together in an alliance of planets.

With the exception of the inhabitants of Axlus….

As the decades passed the Cluster Alliance began to prosper, as trade between the other six civilized worlds grew and knowledge was shared. However, most of the major advances in technology and engineering still came from the Klin, who quickly established themselves as the default leaders of the Alliance. As the leader, it fell upon the Klin to set most of the rules governing the organization, which would have a serious impact on their future in the years to come.

As the Alliance grew, and other worlds were discovered, the Klin ran into a dilemma. They found that all these inhabited worlds had civilizations at nearly every range of development, from stone-age hut builders, to sophisticated and complex societies with thousands of cities spread across their surfaces. An indiscriminate policy of inclusion in the Alliance would have both shocked these lesser-developed societies, as well as diluted the impact and influence of the more advanced races. As a consequence, the Klin developed a set of criteria that would have to be met by any society seeking membership in the Alliance. And prime among these requirements was that the planet must first be civilized enough to exist under one central government before membership would be considered.

This arrangement worked well for the other six member worlds of the cluster, but not so for the natives of Axlus.

At the time, the planet consisted of thousands of independent city-states, each with their own form of government and cultural identity. The greatest of these city-states was Juir, a sprawling metropolis located on a vast alluvial plain between the Southern Ocean and the Kacoran Mountains. Over seventeen-million beings called themselves Juireans, and they existed in an almost constant state of near-fanatical devotion to their city and to the ruling class of heretical leaders.

Near the edge of the Eastern mountain range, a vast section of ancient seabed had been uplifted over geologic time to form a low-lying mountain with what appeared to be a sheared off top. This was the Kacoran Plain. The almost-impossibly flat land atop the mountain was a hundred kilometers long and seventy-five wide, and the natives of Juir used the prominent plateau as a training field for their considerable military forces, as well as for the mass ceremonies their leaders staged to instill awe and loyalty in the population.

And it was also atop the Kacoran Plain that the city’s most powerful and sophisticated observatories were placed, their telescopes aimed toward the stars—and the other inhabited worlds of the cluster.

For hundreds of years, the powerful telescopes of the Juirean scientists had observed the bright, flickering lights on a few of their neighboring worlds, as the time of year and the season were right. They knew as well that the lights from their own cities would be visible to The Others, and when the astronomers began to track tiny mechanical satellites in orbit around their own world, they began to suspect that the moment of First Contact was growing near.

So it came as no shock or surprise to the Juireans when a module, ablaze with chemical exhaust, began its descent from orbit…and heading for the Kacoran Plain of Juir.

At the time of First Contact, Juir was ruled by a fanatical young leader named Malor Ra Unnis, the ninth Unnis to rule the city. With the Unnis family rising to power through the ranks of the military, Malor maintained an almost religious devotion to the discipline and structure that came from wearing the uniform of the Juirean Security Forces. When it was his time to assume the reins of power, Malor began a transformation of Juirean society into something that mirrored the caste structure of the military.

At first, many in the society resisted, yet Malor was persistent—and relentless. Soon he had consolidated power in his rule as none in the line of Unnis leaders before him, and all through a combination of political tact and influence, as well as bloody and heartless pragmatism.

Malor was very aware of the unique nature of his rule, and when word reached him regarding the fiery object descending from the sky, he naturally attributed the arrival of The Others to the timing of his rule. Nevertheless, he was still in awe of the significance of this event and set in motion plans that had been established many decades before in anticipation of the eventual arrival.

With a massive entourage in tow, Malor ascended the Kacoran Plain and traveled to the location where the alien spacecraft now sat. A grand stage was moved into place and transmission crews set up cameras that would broadcast this momentous event, not only throughout Juir, but to the entire planet of Axlus.

Since no one on the planet had any experience with the arrival of an alien spacecraft, the assembled masses waited patiently for the craft to open on its own. But after several hours—and still no activity—Malor instructed his scientists to approach the craft and attempt entry. As they did, a tremendous sense of disappointment fell upon the assembled masses and the planet as a whole.

The craft was unmanned.

Yet it wasn’t empty.

Inside the alien spacecraft, a message was discovered, spoken clearly in the Juirean language. Then Malor— in a move that would later have profound repercussions for the entire planet—had the cameras shut off so that the message could be played in private for only him and his most immediate confidants.

The message was a straight-forward invitation to join what was called the Cluster Alliance. As it was explained, the Alliance consisted of six worlds at the time, and all the worlds shared in the benefits of advanced technology, medical discoveries, as well as financial prosperity through mutual trade. As a Member of the Alliance, the planet Axlus would become a brother with the other worlds in the cluster.

To Malor, it was like a dream come true. It would be under his reign that his people would escape the bonds of a single world, travel to other planets and take their rightful place among the community of civilizations. The name of Malor Ra Unnis would live forever in the annals of Juirean history.

Yet there was one caveat in the invitation: “Your world must be governed by a single authority before membership will be granted,” the voice and image of a creature called a Klin had said.

Staring at the image of the strange, silver-skinned alien, Malor could find no ambiguity in the message. From all the locations on the planet to choose from, the alien probe had landed at Juir, atop their most important military training facility, and at a time when Malor had just solidified his control of the city. To him, the message was clear: The Juireans were the Chosen Ones. The Others had designated his people and his city-state as the rightful rulers of Axlus.

The Others—these creatures called the Klin—were telling Malor it was his responsibility, indeed his duty, to unify the planet under one rule—his.

It wasn’t long before Malor began the most massive military campaign ever seen on the planet. The Juireans lashed out at all their fellow city-states, killing indiscriminately and with such viciousness as to be almost genocidal in nature and resolve. In the course of seven years, Malor the Great—as he was now called—had unified the planet Axlus under the one rule required for membership in the Alliance.

To the observers in space, the campaign Malor inflicted against his fellow natives was beyond belief. The peaceful Klin, in their naïveté, had miscalculated the meaning the Juireans would take from their message. In their experience, unification meant negotiation, treaties and a coming together for the common good, not genocide on a planetary scale. As the wars on Axlus proceeded, the Members of the Alliance became ever more appalled and disgusted with the Juireans and their barbarism and savagery. This was not the outcome the Klin had expected.

Eventually, there came a time upon Axlus when Malor the Great felt he had fulfilled the terms for membership set forth by the mysterious Klin. There was nothing left to do now but proclaim the unification … and for The Others to finally make their appearance.

It was called The Proclamation Ceremony, and it took place atop the Kacoran Plain at the sight of the first landing.

Several million Juireans had gathered atop the plain for the event, along with billions more from around the planet watching transmissions. Technicians had placed a hundred powerful spotlights around a massive stage, encircling the original Klin spacecraft and aimed into the sky. The brilliance of the event was staggering and designed to be easily seen from space—including by any observers in orbit around the planet.

With music playing and gigantic flags waving in the soft breeze, Malor the Great slowly climbed the hundred steps of the stage and took his place before the podium. Then with ceremonial sword held high above his head, his powerful voice echoed around the planet and into space, as he recited the words that would change his world—and his people—forever:

“I, Malor Ra Unnis, hereby declare this planet united, and proclaim that from now and evermore it will be known as the planet Juir!”

A tremendous cheer erupted from the gathered throng that lasted for several minutes before Malor could continue. “We are now united as a planet, and as a culture, and as the supreme ruler of Juir, I hereby demand membership in the Cluster Alliance, as promised at the time of First Contact. Come, land upon the planet Juir. We Juireans are ready to join you!”

The rest of the night was spent in celebration; music, mirth and intoxicants, and a spirit of hope and transition that had never been felt before to such a degree. The people—now the people of the planet Juir—were happier than they had ever been. A long period in their existence as a race was drawing to a close, with a bright new future about to begin. For the billions of Juireans, each held their own vision of what wonderful new future lay ahead. At that point, all the blood that had been spilled to reach this moment in time was an acceptable price to pay for the emotions they were feeling.

The Juireans knew The Others had been watching them throughout the Unification Wars, as well as the preparations for the Proclamation Ceremony. They knew, down to the depths of their souls, that the aliens would also have been preparing for their own arrival. And so they waited that night, with every Juirean across the planet knowing it was just a matter of time before The Others would drop from orbit and descend to the Kacoran Plain….

But as daybreak came—and still no arrival—the most-weary of the revelers began to disperse and head for their homes. By mid-day, the crowd of several million was down to a few thousand, including a humiliated and furious Malor the Great.

Where were the aliens? Why had they not come? Was it simply a miscalculation on his part as to when they would arrive, and that in a day or so, The Others would descend from orbit and welcome his planet into the Alliance?

Whatever the reason, the moment never came.

Within a few weeks, there was such a backlash over the entire Proclamation Ceremony and the Unification Wars that Malor feared for his ability to control the angry masses. Several opposing groups began to make noise concerning his effectiveness as a leader, and that maybe it was his role as leader that was keeping the aliens away. The growing discontent and rebellious nature of the people of Juir could no longer be tolerated, not if he was to retain his position.

Malor once again lashed out with his still-considerable military force—battle-trained from the seven-year Unification Wars—to squelch pockets of rebellion. The following three years were brutal as Malor consolidated a power base he never imagined would be necessary. As anger and hatred grew in Malor’s heart, he saw the vision of his future quickly slipping away. He would not be The Immortal Juirean—the greatest of the great—with statues and other monuments built in his honor. Instead, he would be the Beast, the Juirean who murdered millions of people—and for what?

Once again waging war against his own people—this time to maintain his throne—every waking moment became a constant reminder of his betrayal…by the Klin.

It was during his struggle to retain power that Malor began a massive propaganda campaign designed to direct as much of the pent-up anger and resentment among the populace away from him and toward The Others. Through a constant barrage of messaging, Malor told the people that it was The Others who deserved their scorn, and especially the Klin. It was they—not Malor—who should be held responsible for this insult to their world. As he explained, so many millions of Juireans had died, and all for a promise from the Klin that was never honored. It was the Klin who were responsible for this debacle, not him.

Eventually, the message began to take hold and the people of Juir acquired a seething, almost insane hatred for the Klin, a feeling that would last for thousands of years.

Within four years of the Proclamation Ceremony, Juirean scientists had managed to reverse-engineer the technology from the original space probe sent by the Klin and built the first practical interplanetary spacecraft of their own. This manned craft lifted skyward, heading for the nearest of the Alliance planets, a trip that would take seventeen months.

However, the trip was never completed.

Seeing now that the Juireans would not be denied access to space, the Alliance made direct contact with the Juirean spacecraft and then followed up with a diplomatic mission to Juir herself.

Malor had long ago anticipated this event and had developed a plan for such an eventuality: He would embrace these emissaries as friends and colleagues, rather than lash out at them with anger and violence. He would welcome them and thereby gain their trust.

Even though the Juirean race as a whole still seethed with hatred for the aliens, Malor was able to rein in the populace, at least to a point where somewhat normal relations were developed with the Alliance.

Unknown to both the Juireans and the aliens, Malor had bigger plans.

Juir was granted limited membership in the Alliance, and as such was only allowed to purchase certain low-grade technologies from the other Members and trade in select commodities. Yet unknown to the other Members, nearly every off-world mission by the Juireans consisted of around eighty-percent spies-to-diplomats. As the Juireans traveled amongst their neighboring worlds and mingled with the natives, they spirited away scientific secrets, technologies, demographic information, as well as other sensitive data of all kinds. Their agents infiltrated the highest and most-secure levels of the Alliance and returned their findings and treasures to a centralized clearinghouse that involved nearly the entire population of Juir.

In Malor’s reasoning—as well as the rest of the Juireans—the Alliance may deny them the official status of full Membership, yet the Juireans were not about to be denied what they felt was rightfully theirs…even if they had to steal it.

Malor was approaching one-hundred seventy-six standard years of age and nearing the end of his strength and usefulness, when the time finally arrived when he could put in motion his ultimate plan to exact revenge against the Alliance—and the Klin in particular.

By that time, the Alliance had grown beyond the Cluster, and now controlled nearly forty worlds in the surrounding area, mainly as the result of the Klin invention of the gravity-drive and faster-than-light travel. Although the Alliance traded with these other worlds, they still retained control within the Cluster itself and the core worlds within, with the accepted name of the planetary union changing to the Seven World Common Alliance—even though Juir was still not a full-fledged, voting Member. This slight, evident to all the other worlds in the union, humiliated the Juireans even more.

Yet Malor now saw the threads of his plan coming together….

At the time, the Alliance was finding that their lack of a substantial military force allowed the other planets in the Alliance to do pretty much as they pleased, including running roughshod over the rules set forth by the Klin and the other full Members. The Oanneans, one of the original members of the Alliance, were growing ever more impatient with the Klin and their lack of decisiveness when it came to raising an army—or at least a proficient police force—for the growing union of worlds outside the cluster.

For a number of years, the Oanneans had formed an effective voting bloc against the Klin, dividing the six original Members of the Alliance into a three-to-three stalemate on most major issues. As part of his plan, Malor began to petition the Klin for full Membership, promising them that if they were granted full voting rights, they would side with the Klin, giving them control over the Council four-to-three. He also convinced them that eventually the Oanneans would make a move against the Klin leadership. An alliance between the Klin and the Juireans would not only stop the Oanneans, but the military prowess of the Juireans could provide the security throughout the Alliance and the Union that was so sorely needed.

The Klin were receptive to the offer, even as Malor was petitioning the Oanneans with the exact same promise of breaking the voting deadlock.

Malor’s plan worked, and soon the Juireans were granted Full Membership by a vote of four-to-two.

The next part of his plan could now be set in motion.

The Juirean Security Force was expanded and dispersed throughout the Union, taking up positions at all the vital trade and power centers in the region, and especially on Klinmon, the homeworld of the Klin. Malor had convinced the powers there that if ever the Oanneans attacked, it would be against Klinmon itself, and therefore the bulk of the Juirean forces should be stationed there.

The plan worked perfectly, and within a year of being granted Full Membership, Malor was ready.

The annihilation of the Klin race took less than seven days. With a brutality borne of decades of resentment and humiliation, the Juirean forces secured every planetary population center and power facility within a matter of hours.

And then The Reckoning began.

For so many years, the animosity towards the Klin had simmered at such a high level that now the entire Juirean race was out for revenge. To the Juireans, the Klin did not deserve to survive, not after the mass killings they had caused the Juireans to commit against their own race during the Unification Wars. Not until every last Klin was exterminated would they feel fully vindicated.

And so the Juireans killed every Klin they could find. Of course, they couldn’t kill them all, not since the Klin population was now spread out on many of the worlds of the Union plus ships in transit. The Juireans knew this, but the billions they did kill helped to satiate their bloodlust.

As for the remaining Klin, they effectively disappeared, running for cover and hiding wherever they could. After The Reckoning, not a single Klin was ever seen again…at least not for another four thousand years.

On his death bed, Malor the Great, the architect of The Reckoning, had finally achieved his own particular level of vindication. It had been a long and bloody journey, but his place in the annals of history of the Juirean race was secure.

Now all the Juirean people had to do was learn how to rule an ever-growing Alliance of planets.

The Juireans were now the most powerful force in the Alliance, and soon set about consolidating their power amongst the other six worlds, plus all the other ancillary members of the Union.

The Klin gravity-drive had been perfected twenty standard years before, and as a consequence the Alliance was spreading faster than even the Juireans could control. Counterfeit technology was rampant and every planet with nuclear technology was building gravity-drives and attempting to start their own mini-empires.

In this environment, the Juireans found themselves contending with races from outside the Cluster. Some just wanted to be left alone, while others sought to supplant the Juireans as leaders of the Alliance. The wars that were fought were numerous and bloody. However, eventually the Juireans prevailed and a relative peace came to the Union and the surrounding region.

And then the malaise years began.

Throughout the subsequent four hundred years, Juir went through a succession of ineffectual leaders, with none approaching the stature or vision of a Malor the Great. More often, coups within the Juirean ranks themselves proved more deadly and destructive than any of the wars fought against the rebel Union planets. The Juireans seemed more concerned with their own internal politics and prosperity, rather than that of the Union. There was discontent within the Alliance, and some saw the beginning of the end of Juirean domination within the Cluster and beyond.

It’s often at times like these that a true visionary arises to excite and unite a population. That Juirean was Arolus Ra Un, a charismatic leader who arose out of the ranks of politics, rather than the military. He had studied Juirean society intimately and knew his race could not survive much longer constantly fighting amongst themselves—and for the past four hundred years that was all they had done.

Arolus looked back at an earlier time in Juirean history, to the time when his people had first joined the Alliance. They had been unified at that time, and spiritually were as one against the other races in the galaxy. Arolus sought to rekindle that nationalist spirit in the Juirean people.

His plan was simple: He would pit the Juirean people against all the other races in the galaxy, forcing them to unite as a single race and for a singular purpose.

In a stroke of either genius—or the ultimate gamble—Arolus nearly bankrupted the Alliance and the Juirean government to build an incredible fleet of warships, over ten thousand in total. When complete, this massive juggernaut fanned out in all directions from Juir, with the sole purpose of expanding the Juirean Empire. In Arolus’s plan, The Mass—as it was called—would conquer an untold number of worlds, either through force, intimidation or attrition, and as their empire grew the Juireans would experience an almost religious superiority over the other races in the galaxy, and an overwhelming pride in their own distinct heritage and manifest destiny.

After so many years of fighting amongst themselves, this would be what it would take to shake the Juirean people from their malaise, and to stop the killing within their own kind. Domination would be their sole purpose for existence, domination of other races.

It was an incredible gamble, yet one which changed the galaxy forever.

The Mass launched with as much fanfare as the Proclamation Ceremony, yet with starkly different results. As success followed success, the once empty coffers of the Juirean and Alliance treasuries began to fill with credits exacted from the hundreds—then thousands—of conquered worlds. This added wealth brought the ability to build more ships capable of bringing even more worlds under the domination of the Juireans. As a result, the Juirean Empire grew beyond imagination and became the first trans-galaxy Empire to ever exist. The Juireans were now the ultimate power in the known universe.

At the time of this death, Arolus Ra Un was celebrated for the success of The Mass and for bringing pride back to the Juirean race. He took his rightful place alongside that of Malor the Great, as the two greatest Juireans to have ever lived.

Yet like most things in life, Arolus’s plan produced some unintended consequences.

During the five hundred years that The Mass acquired more and more territory, the day-to-day task of governing over six thousand worlds began to take its toll on the Juireans.

Since the purpose behind The Mass had been to instill pride and power in the Juirean race, they saw fit never to delegate too much of their authority to the natives of the conquered planets. Therefore, each of these worlds required thousands—if not tens of thousands—of Juirean administrators to govern, and all backed up by a massive military juggernaut requiring millions of additional native Juireans to man.

Out of sheer necessity, Juirean females began to be segregated from societal responsibilities and dedicated exclusively to the act of procreation. Traditional mating pairs were eliminated, replaced with government-run training facilities whose sole purpose was to get as many fresh Juirean officials out into the field as possible.

In addition, the security involved in tightly controlling such a vast number of worlds was proving to be an impossible task. Even though the Juireans controlled the technology, along with the largest military force in the galaxy, wars still broke out, which called for even more native Juireans to be called into action.

As the centuries passed, it became obvious that the system was on the verge of collapse.

And then the most remarkable thing happened.

The Juireans retreated.

Almost overnight, they abandoned their most-distant outposts on thousands of planets and pulled back to the core worlds of the initial Mass, a coalition of some two-hundred forty worlds, including the massive production facilities near the Core.

The effect on the Empire was immediate and dramatic. Planet after planet began to fall back to their pre-contact levels, with many reverting to an almost iron-age existence. While some planets still retained a fair amount of scientific expertise, the Juireans had never fully divulged all the tricks of the trade. Eventually, as engineered systems began to fail and refined materials run out, even the most sophisticated of these worlds began to suffer from the absence of the Juireans.

For several hundred years after the retreat, many of the planetary systems engaged in bloody wars, either as a consequence of the quest for Juirean technology and raw materials, or as a result of colonial ambitions now set free by the absence of the Juireans. No less than a dozen tiny stellar empires sprang up, each trying to emulate the success of the Juireans. Some of these neophyte coalitions actually managed to bring about a certain degree of peace and prosperity to their regions. However, most did not, and when the envious neighboring worlds began to invade the territories of these more-successful unions, even bloodier wars exploded throughout the galaxy.

It’s often been debated whether or not the Juireans had this result in mind when they retreated. During the time of The Mass, many worlds grumbled about the Juireans, some even to the point of outright revolt. However, none of these revolts resulted in any real change in the geopolitical arrangement of the galaxy. Yet now, without the stabilizing influence of the Juireans, many of these same revolting worlds began to cry out for a return to the good old days when the Juireans ran the show.

If the Juireans did indeed plan for such an outcome, it was an act of genius, as well as incredible foresight.

The Juireans remained sequestered from the bulk of the galaxy for four-hundred years, before they eventually ventured back out. And when they did they came with a completely different approach to governing.

Since the Juireans now realized that ruling something the size of a galaxy by a single race was impractical, they decided to allow local worlds—as well as coalitions of worlds—to join them in a mutually-beneficial alliance, such as the original Seven World Common Alliance had been designed to do. In return for their allegiance—as well as a tribute paid to the Juireans—each of these worlds would be allowed to purchase the superior technology of the Juireans and to trade within the Juirean alliance. These worlds would also be able to retain as much autonomy over their own affairs as they wished, as long as it did not interfere with the operations of the Juireans.

The Juireans also offered their Members tacit protection against any of their more aggressive neighbors—even though it took a lot for the Juireans to step in personally to resolve a dispute. More often than not, they simply chose to arm the Member planets with more powerful weapons and let the planets fight the wars themselves, rather than risk spilling Juirean blood over these mostly internal squabbles. Juirean life was sacred, and more valuable than that of any other being in the galaxy, at least to the Juireans.

This new strategy for ruling a galaxy ended up being a win-win for all parties. Individual worlds could retain much of their independence and freedom, while rejoining the community of civilizations in the galaxy. And all these planets had to do was what the Juireans told them to do.

Juirean influence began to expand rapidly throughout the galaxy, and at even a faster pace than during the time of the more militaristic Mass. More and more worlds petitioned for Membership, and the Juireans soon found themselves once again masters of the known galaxy and in complete control of their destiny.

After approximately fifteen-hundred years of building an empire, the evolution of Juirean control over the galaxy was complete. Growing from the Seven World Common Alliance and the Union, followed by The Mass and the Juirean Empire, to now the Juirean Expansion, a point had been reached where a relative peace and stability settled over the galaxy.

The period of stability lasted for almost twenty-five hundred years beyond the introduction of the Expansion—up to the point the Juireans encountered the Human race.

As Overlord Yan’wal drew his thoughts to a close, he agonized over the uncertainty of the path on which he was embarking. The Juirean people had come a long way from their humble beginnings on an obscure planet in a small stellar cluster to become rulers of the known galaxy. And now an upstart—an outlier from the Far Arm—could threaten it all.

The Humans were not of the Expansion, and as such, did not owe any allegiance to the Juireans. Their civilization, political structure and technology all came from someplace else. Yes, they were being helped by the Klin, but to what extent? That information was in conflict. Could they be a totally self-sufficient industrial and technological power in their own right? Could they control an empire of their own at the far end of the galaxy? There was just so little known about the Far Arm that any guess on his part would be purely that, a guess. And Senior Overlord Yan’wal did not operate on guesses, at least not under normal circumstances.

But what else could he do? And what other choice did he have?

As Yan’wal had previously expressed to his staff, he truly believed the Juirean race was about to encounter the greatest threat to their existence since before the days of Malor the Great. He had no choice.

The Human race had to be destroyed.

Chapter 3

When the link came through from Overlord Yan’wal, Senior Guard Commander Lod-fin Al Reuminin, commander of the Secondary Exploratory Fleet under direction of Fleet Commander Siegor, was in the grooming station of his stateroom, hunched over a sink and vomiting his guts out.

The abscess in his stomach lining was getting worse, and the bile he was expelling was now laced with blood. He felt awful, and he cursed the intoxicating native food he had discovered on the planet Yonnlin, during his last assignment in the far-off Sector 4 of the Expansion. The dish was an addictive concoction of spices and meats that the dietary computer had cleared for Juirean consumption. However, in excess the meal had proved to be a destructive force upon his digestive tract…. and now it was ripping his insides apart.

The condition had started innocently enough; just a few sharp pains in his side. But now that he had been deployed with Commander Siegor’s force—and on a mission of such importance as tracking down the last surviving Klin—he was afraid to report the ailment to his superiors, not wanting to risk losing his command on account of a medical condition.

His aide stood at the doorway to the grooming station, looking nervous and unsure; Overlord Yan’wal was not one you kept waiting on the link. So after one final heave, Lod’fin looked up from the sink and at the aide, spittle dangling from his mouth. “Tell the Overlord I will be with him presently. Just let me clean up a little before I speak with him—but do not tell him that!”

“Yes, Commander.” The aide quickly retreated into the stateroom.

Lod’fin splashed water on his face and rinsed out his mouth, before brushing the long mane of light green hair back over his head and down his back. His eyes were blood-shot and his normally bronze skin looked yellow. He had no choice; he had to face the Overlord in his present condition.

After slipping into the chair behind his desk, Lod’fin took a deep breath, exhaled, and then opened the link to the Overlord.

“My Lord, I apologize for the delay.”

Yan’wal appeared on the screen and then took several long seconds to consider the image of the Senior Guard before him. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes, my Lord, just a slight malfunction with the dietary computer. I appear to have consumed something that does not agree with me.”

Yan’wal stared at his subordinate for several more seconds, during which Lod’fin fought the urge to resume vomiting right in front of the Overlord. Eventually Yan’wal nodded. “Very well, Commander: First of all, I would like a progress report on your effort to locate any secondary Klin bases on your side of the Barrier.”

Lod’fin was relieved at the change of subject. It would help get his mind off the burning pain in his gut. “As directed, we have revised our search parameters to include only planets with a substantially higher surface gravity than standard. We have surveyed seven planets to date. Only two were within the habitable zones for their stars and none have shown evidence of a base of any kind. We are continuing our survey.”

Yan’wal nodded again, and then furrowed his brow slightly. He was silent for several more seconds, as if contemplating a decision. A moment later he locked eyes with Lod’fin. “Commander, have you been keeping abreast of the events in the Sector over the past few weeks?”

“Yes I have, my Lord. I am aware of the battles that have taken place, especially the fleet casualties suffered off Dimloe. Do you require my presence to supplement the fleet?”

“Not at this time; I have another assignment for you.” Again, a look of uncertainty on the face of the Senior Overlord. Lod’fin grew more concerned.

“Have you heard any references to a race of beings called Humans?”

“Yes, my Lord. They appear to be the race that participated in both battles, alongside the Klin.”

“Commander, it now appears as if the Humans may have been the primary participants in both these confrontations, and that the Klin played only a minor role.”

“I do not understand. I believed the Klin were our primary targets during this campaign?”

“That was the original mission, but now the focus has shifted to these Humans.”

“Who are they, my Lord? Where do they come from?”

“From the Far Arm, Commander.”

Immediately the significance of the link from the Overlord became clear. Lod-fin’s force of five Juirean battlecruisers was located at the very beginning of the Far Arm, on the opposite side of the Barrier from Sector 17. His force would be the first line of defense against any attack from that direction. “Is there any evidence of movement from the Far Arm toward my location, by these…Humans?”

“Not at this time. However, we have learned what we believe is the location of the Human homeworld—a planet called Earth—and The Juirean Authority is amassing a fleet to strike the planet as soon as possible.”

Lod-fin suddenly forgot all about his torn-up stomach. “That is magnificent news, my Lord. How can I be of assistance in this undertaking?”

“Do not be so anxious, Commander,” the Overlord warned. “These Humans are an unknown entity and to date have proven to be a tenacious opponent. We do not know what we will be facing during an assault of their homeworld.”

“So what is my mission, my Lord?” Lod-fin asked, letting his enthusiasm override decorum with the Overlord.

“A group of Humans have recently commandeered a battlecruiser, the UN-233—”

“My Lord—that is Commander Olin’s ship!”

“It was, Commander. Like I said, the Humans are now in control and Commander Olin has not been heard from in several days.”

“Where is this ship now?” Olin was a friend of Lod-fin’s; they had crewed together on many a ship in the past, and it was on Lod-fin’s recommendation that Olin received his own command.

“We have lost contact with the UN-233, however we believe it may be heading to the Human homeworld. Since we know the location of Earth, we can assume they will follow that same track.”

Yan’wal paused slightly before continuing. “Commander, your assignment is to track down the UN-233 and prevent it from reaching Earth before our fleet arrives. As mentioned, we do not have adequate intelligence as to the strength and capabilities of the enemy. Our fleet will be arriving blind, and we cannot afford to have the Humans be forewarned of our arrival.

“In addition, you are instructed to not only prevent the UN-233 from reaching Earth, but also to provide any information you can ascertain regarding the strength of the Human enemy. We need to know if they control a coalition of planets, or if they stand alone. We need to know about their industrial and technological capabilities, what weapons they possess, as well as any allies they have in neighboring systems.”

The Overlord then leaned in closer to the screen, “And Commander, we must not let them know we are collecting this data. The information we have received indicate that the Humans may be three years or so from launching a direct assault on the Expansion. If so, then they may already be amassing ships for the assault. Should they learn that we know of their plans, they may choose to attack sooner.”

“I understand, my Lord, and the first priority should be to stop the UN-233 at all costs.”

“That is correct. The fleet we are assembling will consist of over five-hundred warships, which should be ample firepower to defeat this threat. However, it will not be ready to depart for approximately three weeks, and then we will only be able to travel as fast as our slowest support ships. The assault on Earth will not take place for another four months. During this time, we need an advance force to lay communication relays and to provide whatever intelligence it can gather. You will be that advance force, Commander.”

“This is a great honor you are bestowing on me, my Lord. I will not let you down.”

“I am sure you will do your best; however, I must stress to you again, the Humans must not learn of your presence in the region.”

“Once the UN-233 has been destroyed, we will proceed with the utmost caution and stealth. With the UN-233 on its way to…to Earth, where would you project its location to be at this time?”

“I will transmit an estimate to your nav computer presently. If we are right, they are just now beyond the Barrier and located about forty-five light-years from your current position.”

“They are in a Class-5 starship, just as we are. My forces will have to run all out to catch them.”

“I understand that. Do what is necessary, Commander. That is all.”

Once the screen went blank, Lod-fin sprinted for the grooming station once again. This time he had the added element of his new assignment to help summon forth the surges from his rotted gut.

Chapter 4

Nigel McCarthy heaved the fifty-pound weight across the room and through the opposite wall of the gym. The metal barbell crashed through the thin material as if it wasn’t there and landed on the moist grass outside. Several Klin were in the field at the time, and Nigel could see their shocked looks through the hole in the wall the barbell had left. Once they noticed Nigel staring wild-eyed at them from the room beyond, they quickly moved away and out of his line of sight.

Gaining only an ounce of satisfaction from the scared looks on the faces of the aliens, Nigel turned to the other Human in the room. His assistant, Carter Thomas, didn’t show any reaction to the outburst by his boss or any unease. Even though Nigel was tall and massively built, with a fiery crop of ginger hair, Carter still made Nigel look like a school boy next to his own hulking mass of black, bulging muscles.

“How the bloody hell did this happen?” Nigel spat out between gnashing teeth.

Carter didn’t bother to look down at the datapad he carried; he knew the report inside and out. “It seems as though Cain and Tarazi were able to free a number of the non-converts and escape in the Juirean cruiser. They even managed to take a few 2G’s with them.”

“Where are they now?”

“Our sensors at the Barrier picked up their gravity wave…heading for Sector 12.”

“Damn!” Nigel slammed his massive fist into the heavy bag that hung from the ceiling next to him, sending a sound like a gunshot reverberating throughout the gym. The bag swung away, and then returned; Nigel grabbed it and squeezed as hard as he could. “They must have learned the location on Z-4. They’re going to ruin this whole goddamn thing!”

“They have to be stopped; we can’t allow them to reach Earth before the Juireans.”

Nigel glared at him. “Don’t you think I know that, Carter? What assets do we have available between the Barrier and the outer perimeter?”

“Not many; most of our forces are already on station. But there is a small Klin outpost near Jaann.”

“Any 2G’s with them?”

“Some, and they have a couple of old Klin ships there as well.”

“But can they take out a Juirean battlecruiser? I doubt it,” Nigel said, answering his own question.

“What about a suicide mission?” Carter said evenly. “Just get them in close enough and then set off a nuke?”

“Are these 2G’s Kamikazes?”

“No, but we could always have the Klin rig a detonator onboard, unknown to the 2G’s.”

Nigel stared back at his subordinate, this time with a thin grin stretching across his freckled face. “You are one devious son-of-a-bitch, aren’t you? I like it. Make it happen.”

Chapter 5

Adam Cain found Sherri in the aft port corridor, emerging from the stateroom presently occupied by Billy Piscopo, one of the men they had rescued from Zylim-4. Her hair was mussed, and there was a reddish glow to her cheeks.

“There you are,” Adam said, stepping in-stride beside her as she proceeded forward toward her own stateroom. The Juirean battlecruiser was so large that the rescued Humans—as well as Adam’s group—each had their own individual staterooms. The 2G prisoners, however, were kept in two secure rooms near the aft cargo bay.

Sherri glanced over at Adam and saw the look on his face. “Don’t judge me, Adam.”

“I didn’t say anything—”

“But I know what you’re thinking. You’re on the way back to your wife and kid; I have no one to return to.”

“I thought you had a fiancé?”

Sherri just shrugged. “Yeah, I kinda made that up. But a girl has her needs, too. And besides, I like the girl-to-guy ratio we have onboard.” Her attempt at a wicked smile came across as insincere.

“Still, I don’t know if it’s such a good idea to get involved with these guys so soon.” Adam knew he was experiencing a trace of jealousy; after all, he and Sherri had shared a bed together for a couple of weeks before the battle on Zylim-4, as well as for the first few days aboard the Juirean cruiser. After that, Sherri had claimed one of the staterooms for herself and began to spend more time with a couple of the men they had rescued. He had to admit it, Sherri couldn’t go anywhere onboard the ship without being flirted with by at least a dozen of the younger men—and she seemed to beam with more confidence with each passing day.

“So what’s up?” she asked as they neared her stateroom.

“Kaylor wants to meet with us in the ready room. He says it’s important.”

“What about Riyad?”

“He didn’t ask for him to be there. I think he’s still scared shitless of him.”

“I can’t blame him.”

Since Kaylor and Jym were the primary pilots aboard the huge battlecruiser, Adam had allowed the two aliens to claim the captain and XO quarters directly off the bridge. They were able to adjust the gravity for this section of the ship to a more comfortable level, while the Humans kept the rest of the ship up to their much-heavier standard. The arrangement worked well for everyone.

The ready room was located just off the captain’s quarters and Kaylor and Jym were already there when Adam and Sherri entered. A three meter long table jutted out from the rear bulkhead, with chairs on either side. A monitor was mounted on the bulkhead at the end of the table.

Adam could see the look of worry on Kaylor’s face. “What’s going on?” he asked, as he and Sherri took seats on the opposite side of the table from the two aliens.

“We may have a problem,” Kaylor said without preamble. “Jym picked up a massive gravity wave about a day ago that nearly collided with us.”

“What does that mean?” Sherri asked.

“It bolted past us as if we were standing still,” Jym said, bobbing in his chair, visibly agitated. “It was a communication pod.”

Sherri shook her head. “I still don’t follow.”

Jym cocked his head at her. “When a region of space is without communication relays, the fastest way to communicate is to send physical communication pods. These are small craft with incredibly large gravity generators. They can travel at many times the speed of even Class-5 ships, like this one.”

“And?”

“This pod is following the same track as we are—heading for Earth.”

Adam leaned in closer to the table. “You’re saying someone sent a communication pod to Earth? Where did it come from?”

“Somewhere in the Fringe, but that is not the worst of it,” Kaylor said.

“Go on.”

“The pod was sent in the open, with its message broadcasting continuously.”

Sherri shook her head. “Listen guys, we’re not up on all the intricacies of intergalactic communications. What are you trying to say?”

Kaylor stared back at her for a moment before answering. “It means anyone can intercept its message, as well as trace the pod to its final destination.”

Adam suddenly went pale. “So the Juireans could learn the location of Earth?”

“Correct. And the message…tell them, Jym.”

Both Humans shifted their stunned stares to the tiny alien. “The message was encrypted, but nothing elaborate, very basic as a matter of fact. Using the equipment aboard, I was able to decipher the message.” He looked down at the datapad he held in his hand. “It said, ‘Existence of Humans and Earth have been exposed, along with our association with the Klin. We have engaged the Juireans off Dimloe and on Zylim-4. The Juirean forces appear to be weaker than anticipated. Our Klin advisors have recommended that the time to begin our invasion of Juirean space should be within three years. It has been projected that we will have sufficient forces by then. The Human race should be able to secure vast sections of Juirean space before they are fully aware of our capabilities. At the time of the invasion, the Juireans will not be able to resist our incursion into their space. However, it is imperative that our plans remain secret, since our forces on Earth are still in preparation. The three-year timetable for invasion appears reasonable. Juireans still believe Klin to be the major threat. We will work on this end to keep up the deception.’”

There was a deathly silence in the room for several seconds, as Adam and Sherri simply stared at Jym. Finally Adam broke the silence. “What the hell is going on? This is complete bullshit.”

Sherri shifted her gaze to Adam. “You’ve been away from Earth for only about a year…is there something going on there that I need to know about?”

“Of course not! I’m in the military, and in a very special branch and unit. If there was something big going on, I’m sure the SEALs would have been part of it, and especially my Team. This message is a total fabrication.”

“Then why would your people send it?” Kaylor asked.

“Simple,” came a voice from the doorway to the ready room. Everyone at the table jumped and turned in that direction. “We didn’t send it,” Riyad Tarazi stated flatly from the open doorway.

“What are you doing here?” Kaylor asked, while Jym crowded closer to the rear bulkhead and away from the doorway.

“You know you really shouldn’t call a meeting without inviting me. My experience in matters of subterfuge could come in handy. And besides, you really should shut the door if you hope to have a secret meeting.” He moved into the room and pulled a fifth chair from near the door and placed it at the end of the table. “The Klin sent the message,” he stated as he sat down.

“And why would they do that?” Sherri asked sarcastically.

Riyad pursed his lips and nodded. “Indeed, why would they? I’ve been spending a lot of time trying to correlate all the things that have happened over the past few months. A lot of them just haven’t made any sense.”

“No shit,” Adam said. “Nothing out here makes sense.”

“Well, in a way it does,” Riyad countered. “Consider: There are three major players in this game, the Juireans, the Klin and now us, meaning those creepy 2G guys. I was particularly confused when the 2G’s threw the battle at Dimloe and then committed suicide after feeding the Juireans that line of bullshit—you know, about Humans being the new force in the galaxy. And now this message. I think we all know that Earth is in no position to take on the Juirean Expansion.”

“A diversion!” Adam called out. “The Klin are diverting attention from them to us.”

“That’s obvious … now,” Riyad said. “The question is why? It simply can’t be so that the Juireans will leave them alone. They appear to have set the Juireans against the Earth, even going so far as to reveal the planet’s location to them with this broadcast.”

“But we’ll be destroyed!” Sherri said, her voice trembling. “We may be badass one-on-one, but we can’t stand up against their spaceships and energy weapons.”

“Exactly; we wouldn’t last a day against an attack from space.”

Kaylor cleared his throat. “Could it be that the Klin are your enemy? Has your race wronged them in such a way that they would want you destroyed?”

All three Humans shook their heads. “Not that I’m aware of,” Adam answered for them. “Remember, it’s been the Klin who have been coming to Earth and taking us away. And if they wanted to, the Klin have the ships and weapons to wipe us out themselves, if that was their goal. They don’t need the Juireans to do it for them.”

Riyad shook his head. “I didn’t say I had all the answers, just about who sent the message. It’s obvious someone wants the Juireans to believe that the Humans are more than what we are, and I’m sure it’s not coming from us. We wouldn’t be bluffing with something this big. I think about what my friend Saddam Hussein did back before the main war with the Americans. He tried to bluff with the fact that he had weapons of mass destruction, just so the Americans would not attack. And we all know what happened then.”

“We don’t,” said Kaylor.

Riyad just looked at him and smiled. “Let’s just say it didn’t work out very well for him. If you’re going to bluff, you had better be prepared to be called.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“Never mind that,” Adam said impatiently. “Riyad, you once believed that the Klin were building a Human army to fight the Juireans. I’ve come to believe that, too. Now they’re sending the Juireans to Earth, where we have no force capable of defeating them—” Adam’s eyes suddenly grew wide, as did Riyad’s. Then simultaneously, they both blurted: “It’s a trap!”

“What are you two talking about?” Sherri asked, frustration in her voice.

Adam turned to her. “Don’t you see? The Klin have set it up so that a large Juirean force will arrive at Earth. Then they plan on unleashing their Human army against them there, much like they did off Dimloe. Rather than have their Human army fight battle after battle right in the heart of Juirean territory, there will be one major battle, and against a force that is expecting the Humans to still be preparing for an invasion. The Juireans have no choice but to attack now, before they believe us to be fully battle-ready.”

“But we will be ready,” Riyad picked up the dialog. “The Klin would not have set these actions in motion without making sure of that.”

“So you’re saying we have nothing to worry about?” There was skepticism in Sherri’s voice. “The Klin and their 2G army are going to step in at the last minute and save the Earth from destruction? That’s taking a lot for granted, isn’t it?”

That sobered up the other two Humans in the room. Adam nodded. “I know we’re assuming a lot, but why else would the Klin be doing this? According to Riyad—and now in this message—the Klin seem hell-bent on making the Juireans believe that we’re a threat to them. What we’re saying makes the most sense.”

“So what do we do now?” Sherri asked.

Riyad and Adam looked at each other. Then they shrugged.

“Oh, great!” Sherri said, rolling her eyes. “We just continue on as if we have nothing to worry about while the greatest battle in the history of history is about to take place?”

Kaylor cleared his throat again.

“Just say it, Kaylor!” Adam barked at him.

“You do realize we are in a Juirean battlecruiser, and according to you, heading into a massive fleet of Humans and Klin bent on destroying anything that resembles a Juirean….”

The three Humans stared at him for several shocked seconds before Adam cleared his own throat. “Ah, good point, Kaylor. That’s definitely something we’ll have to keep in mind as we get closer to Earth.”

Sherri shot him a piercing look. “No shit, Sherlock.”

Chapter 6

After the meeting, the Humans went to the mess decks and settled into a table far enough away from the other men in the room so as not to be overheard. There were six others in the large room, including Billy Piscopo, Sherri’s current lover. Adam noticed how they shared furtive glances at each other, as if no one else knew what was going on. Adam tried to put the conflicting emotions out of his mind and focus on the larger issue at hand.

“So how do we get through the Klin—or Human blockade—to get to Earth?” Riyad asked, setting the agenda for the meeting. “If there is a fleet waiting there for the Juireans, I doubt if they’ll let us slip through simply because we announce that we’re not really Juireans, but Humans, just like them.”

Adam absently picked at the synthetic food in front of him. “I know, that’s going to be a problem.” He pushed the plate away. “What really pisses me off is that before the Klin got involved, the Humans and the Juireans had no issue with each other. In fact, with Earth being so far out in the Far Arm, it probably would have been centuries before we ever made contact. This whole war is a trumped-up creation of the Klin.”

“I agree,” said Riyad, “but unless we can get to Earth and convince them that the Juireans are really not our enemy, there will be a war.”

“I know. And we’re not even sure the Juireans are sending a fleet to Earth. They’d be foolish not to, but we’re not really sure of that.”

“And we’re not even sure there is a fleet of 2G’s waiting, either,” Sherri said, still not convinced of the whole concept. “That’s just your idea. It makes sense, but we’re not sure, not really.”

“When it comes down to it, we really don’t know anything for sure,” Riyad said.

“I think I have a way of finding out,” Adam said. “If they know.”

“The prisoners?” Riyad asked.

“Yeah, but it could get rough. I don’t want anyone questioning my methods.” Adam looked directly into Sherri’s eyes when he spoke the last sentence.

“Fuck that!” she said. “This is our home we’re talking about. Do what you have to.”

A half-hour later, Adam had two of the 2G prisoners brought into a room off the cargo bay that served as an office of some sort. He sat behind a tall desk and had the two prisoners sit across from him. Riyad and Sherri took up guard positions on either side of the two men.

Adam pulled out an MK-17 and set it on the desk. The prisoners had been present when Adam shot their companion on Zylim-4, so they eyed the weapon with apprehension.

“You’re going to tell me everything you know about the mission the Klin have laid out for the 2G’s,” Adam said softly. “Everything. And if I get the impression you’re lying to me, I will kill you. There are nine of you to go through. You two are just the first. Whether you leave this room dead or alive is entirely up to you.”

He turned his attention to the prisoner on his right, a young man looking to be not more that 16 or 17, with brilliant blue eyes and short cropped blond hair. He looked more nervous than the other one. Adam nodded at him. “You first.”

The boy hesitated slightly before glancing at his partner. Adam lifted the weapon and pointed it at him.

“Don’t look at him. He won’t save your life.”

“No! I’ll tell you!”

“Don’t make me wait,” said Adam, setting the weapon back on the desk.

“We don’t know a lot—” Adam lifted the weapon again. “No, really! We are support staff, left on Zylim-4 when the main force departed. We are too young and inexperienced for the crews.”

“Where did they go?”

“To the fleet.”

“Where is this fleet now?”

“I don’t know.”

Adam pursed his lips and shook his head. “You’re testing my patience.”

“We were not trained for the ships. All we know is that the fleet was to go to Earth…to protect it against the Juirean attack. This has been planned for a very long time.”

“How long ago did they leave?”

“A month, maybe a little less.”

“Then they should get there before we do.”

“Yes. Our ships are very fast.”

Sherri came to stand next to the desk. “Where were you born?” she asked, much to Adam’s surprise. This was not the line of questioning he was following.

The 2G seemed equally surprised by the question. “Calamore. The base on Calamore,” the young man answered. His partner jabbed an elbow into his ribs, causing the boy to wince.

Without hesitation, Adam lifted the MK and shot a bolt into the second man’s chest. He fell backwards in the chair from the concussion, crying out in pain, as the Level-2 bolt scorched his clothing and skin. Sherri and Riyad were stunned. The boy cried out in shock. Once they realized the weapon had been set on a non-lethal level, everyone calmed down. The second man climbed back into the chair, brushing at the still smoldering embers around the hole in his tunic. He held his hands on his chest, tears welling up in his eyes.

“The next shot will be Level-1. Now go on,” he said to the first man. He dialed up the charge on the weapon.

“Calamore, it’s where the main base is, on this side of the Barrier,” he said quickly.

“Are the breeders there?” Sherri asked, acid in her tone.

“Of course. Where else would they be? They’re females.”

Sherri took a step toward the man. Adam reached out to grab her arm.

“How many 2G’s are there?” he asked.

“Not many…now. Maybe fifty or so. Most are on the ships. Just a few support personnel—along with the breeders, and the non-converts, of course.”

“The non-whats?” Riyad said, stepping up beside the man.

“The non-converts, the native-borns who would not join us.”

“Are there a lot of them?”

“No, not many. Not more than a thousand I would say, at least for the time being.”

Adam, Sherri and Riyad shared wide-eyed glances, before Adam turned his attention back to the 2G. “Where exactly is Calamore?”

“I don’t know the coordinates. I just know it’s approximately three light-years on the Far Arm side of the Barrier, in a small cluster of three yellow stars.”

“Is it to the Rigor side of the Barrier, or the Silea side?” Riyad asked. He knew the Fringe better than anyone in the room, and with Rigor and Silea lying at opposite ends of the Fringe, this could narrow down the location.

“Rigor, I believe.”

“Does the base have any defenses?” Adam asked.

“Not many, now. We left there about three months ago and went to Z-4, just as the main force was preparing to deploy.”

“What did you mean when you said, for the time being when you referred to the breeders?” Sherri asked.

The 2G blinked at her. “Now that the war is about to begin, they are of no further use.”

“Go on.”

The 2G blinked several times, not quite understanding what more could be said. “The breeders are no longer necessary, now that we are to make direct contact with Earth. And the non-converts…well their conversion is no longer necessary, either.”

It didn’t take long for the implication of the 2G’s cavalier comments to hit the three native-born Humans in the room. It was Sherri who stated the obvious.

“They’re going to be killed.” It was a statement, not a question.

“They are of no use anymore,” the man said, with no emotion in his voice.

This time Adam did not try to restrain Sherri. She stepped forward and smashed her right fist straight into the nose of the 2G. The cracking of cartilage was heard, as blood spewed forth and down the chin of the man. Sherri turned toward Adam, her gaze locking on his MK-17.

Adam quickly pulled the weapon from within her reach.

“Calm down, Sherri,” he said. “We’ll deal with this scum later. Right now, I need the two of you to take them back to the others. And don’t kill them. At least not yet.”

Somehow, Riyad was able to maintain enough control over Sherri so that the two men got back to their holding cell alive, if not bruised up from the rough manner in which they were dragged through the corridors. But as soon as they returned to the interrogation room, Sherri was speaking.

“We have to go get them!”

“Not a good idea,” Riyad countered.

Sherri spun to face him. “There are a thousand people there being held prisoner, plus the women, who have been constantly raped in order to build this so-called army for the bat-shit crazy Klin. They’re all going to be killed!”

“I understand that. But right now, we have to warn the Earth about what’s about to happen. Besides, they may already be dead. It could be a wasted trip.”

“He’s right, Sherri,” Adam said. “We now have proof that a 2G fleet is heading for Earth, and they wouldn’t be going there unless they know the Juireans are heading there as well. We have a whole planet to be concerned with.”

“So we just leave them there?”

“First things first. If we do get to Earth in time—and all in one piece—we’ll see about coming back for them. Hopefully we won’t be too late. It’s a given that our planet will never be the same after we get back, so if we don’t come back for them, I’m sure someone else will.”

Sherri sat down in one of the chairs and crossed her arms. “This still doesn’t tell us how we’re going to get through the waiting 2G fleet to warn the Earth. And not only about the Juireans, but also about how crooked and conniving the Klin are. They’re responsible for all of this, and the 2G’s have been raised—brainwashed—by them.”

“Sherri’s right,” Riyad said. “These men have been indoctrinated from the day they were born into believing everything the Klin tells them. They’re more loyal to the aliens than they are to Earth. I’ve seen it. These men are fanatics—and true believers. They will not let us reach Earth, just to speak ill of their masters.”

“We’re assuming the Klin know of us—” He held up his hand as both Riyad and Sherri opened their mouths to speak, “But I agree it’s the safe approach to take. We need to get Kaylor and Jym to start prepping the others on the weapon and defense systems of this ship. If we do run into any Klin or 2G’s along the way, we better be able to defend ourselves. Can you coordinate with them for that, Sherri?” He smiled at Riyad. “The two are still scared shitless of Riyad.”

“The fear comes in handy at times,” Riyad said with a wink.

Chapter 7

Over the next two weeks, Kaylor and Jym held dozens of training and orientation sessions with the thirty-two rescued men aboard. Soon the Humans were nearly as proficient at running the ship as was the original crew, and Adam began to believe they might actually have a slim chance should they encounter any resistance getting home.

During the training, two of the men rose to assume leadership positions among the non-converts: Sherri’s friend Billy Piscopo and an older man named Chris Mullis. Chris had spent twelve years in the Marines, the last five in Force Recon, up until the time his wife developed breast cancer and he left the service at the end of his current enlistment. His wife passed away four years later. He had been out of the service for fourteen years, spending most of that time as a mortgage broker in Sacramento, California. Chris had been taken by the Klin six months before and had served as a rock of resistance for the captives on Zylim-4.

“Assuming we get back to Earth all in one piece, you know we probably can’t set down in D.C., or Norfolk, or any other place with a large military presence,” said Chris to the assembled people seated within Kaylor’s quarters.

Adam nodded. He had been thinking about this very subject for a year now, trying to envision what kind of homecoming he would have if—and when—he ever returned to Earth. “I agree. Dropping down near a sensitive location will just invite a missile up our ass. I’ve been thinking about Texas somewhere, but far enough away from Ft. Hood and San Antonio. We don’t want to appear to be a threat of any kind.”

“Why not Roswell?” Billy said with a smile. Everyone in the room laughed, everyone but Adam.

“Now that’s a damn good idea, Billy!” he said. “I like the symbolism. I don’t know if you guys know it, but the little gray aliens that are always shown in UFO movies and books are actually called Jakreans. They really do exist.”

“No shit?” Billy said, looking over at Riyad and Sherri.

They nodded their agreement.

“Then it’s decided. Roswell, New Mexico it is,” Adam said, much to the satisfaction of the others.

“You still haven’t told us how you plan on getting past any Klin or 2G’s hanging out around the planet,” Sherri said. All eyes turned toward Adam.

“That’s because I don’t have a good answer yet. I’ve thought about coming in dark, and essentially coasting in undetected. But Kaylor has informed me that we’d have to start so far out from the solar system that it would take years for us to get in traveling at sub-light speed. I’ll get Kaylor and Jym working on deactivating the transponder, which would at least keep the ship’s identity a secret from the Klin. But the gravity signature of a Class-5 starship is very distinctive, and there’s not a lot of them around, other than Juirean and Klin versions.”

“How about this?” Chris began. “I saw this once in a program about drug running in Florida. We overshoot the system, and then come in from the opposite direction. In the program, the drug aircraft would fly in past the panhandle of Florida, and then double back. The Feds were only looking for aircraft coming up from the south, so they never paid much attention to anything coming down from the north.”

Adam raised his eyebrows. “That might work, if we can turn off the damn transponder. With so many other ships buzzing in and out of the system preparing for the Juireans, we might be able to blend in with the rest—if someone doesn’t analyze our gravity signature too closely.”

“It’s also a pretty good bet that the Klin know exactly where the Juirean fleet is and when it will be arriving at Earth,” said Riyad. “Knowing this, they may not be on such high alert to check out every signature they see.” He looked over at Adam. “I think it’s worth a shot.”

Adam nodded. He turned to Kaylor. “Is it even possible to deactivate the transponder on a ship this big?”

It was Jym who spoke up. “Actually, it’s easier than on a commercial vessel,” he said, bouncing in his chair with enthusiasm. “Commercial ships make landfall on a variety of planets, so it’s more important for the authorities to track their movements and origins. Military craft, especially something this big, do not make landfall, and their identity is pretty much established already. The transponders aboard military craft are used primarily to keep track of the individual vessels in times of battle, to help the commanders allocate their forces. I’ve been checking out the circuitry and I don’t see a problem deactivating the transponder.”

The mood in the room lifted after Jym’s statement. “Great,” said Adam. “It will still be a risk, but we don’t have much choice. Of course, we also can’t park the ship in orbit so that the Klin can see it visually. So we’ll drop it off on the moon. Kaylor says he can set it down on a surface with a very low gravity threshold, even though these ships were never designed to make landfall. I have confidence that he’s right.”

Adam could see Kaylor perk up from the compliment. Over the past several weeks, the two aliens had bonded with the crew; they even appeared to be warming up to Riyad. Adam was glad to see it. Deep down inside though, he was worried about what would happen to the two of them once they returned to Earth. They couldn’t live on the planet, not with Earth’s gravity. And by now Adam was pretty sure they were on whatever ‘Most-Wanted’ list the Juireans had, so returning to the Fringe would be difficult as well.

Unfortunately, they were victims of circumstance, just like the rest of them. No one in the room—or on the ship for that matter—had asked for any of this to happen to them. And now, they were just trying to do the best they could to survive.

Chapter 8

After so many months at a constant frenetic pace, Adam was at a loss as to what to do once the monotony of the journey to Earth slowly settled in. Kaylor and Jym spent most of their time together, confined to the lighter-gravity region of the command bridge. Sherri and Billy became constant companions, and except for training sessions, Adam rarely saw them outside their respective staterooms. Even Riyad was spending more time alone, apparently in prayer in his cabin.

Adam was so starved for Human companionship that he felt almost like an outcast—again.

But then he and Chris Mullis began to spend more time together, trading war stories, their time in service drawing them together. Chris had been in Desert Storm, while Adam came in much later, during Iraq and Afghanistan. But still, as one Special Forces member to another, they shared a bond as none of the other crewmembers could.

The two also spent time with Kaylor on the bridge, learning the basics of piloting a starship the size of the Juirean battlecruiser. Chris had been especially excited with the prospect of piloting a starship. As he stated, it was better than helping people fill out mortgage applications back home in Sacramento.

Adam was already pretty well-versed in the operation of Juirean spacecraft, thanks to his experience with the Cassie-1, but something the size of the battlecruiser was another matter. Kaylor was a good teacher, even though he was winging it most of the time. The alien had piloted a number of different spacecraft during his career, but something this big was a new experience for him as well. Yet as the weeks passed, Adam developed a new level of respect for both he and Jym. They may be aliens, but they made an effort to do their best in everything they attempted, and that you had to admire.

Soon the two Humans had reached a level of competency where they could adequately serve as backups for Kaylor should the need arise, and the rest of the crew was jelling as well with their respective responsibilities.

Now if they could just get back to Earth without being detected.

In his off time, Adam found he was growing ever more anxious about the prospect of seeing Maria and Cassie again. It was both exciting and nerve racking. So much time had passed, and the circumstances of his disappearance would change the whole dynamic of their relationship, if one even remained.

Hell, she may have remarried by now.

He wouldn’t have blamed her if she had. If fact, in some ways he hoped she had. The idea of having her go through life alone, with just her and Cassie, made him feel guilty for what happened. He could only imagine what pain she went through over the past year. But by now—hopefully—the grieving process would have played itself out. She would have moved on and begun to build a new life without him.

Yet his family meant so much to him. Throughout his year-long ordeal, they had been his light, his rock, his goal in life. In his quiet contemplations, he often found it strange that he—of all people—would feel this way, since he had never fancied himself much of a family man.

His mother died when he was eleven, and his father raised him as a single parent and never remarried. Adam had a very doting Aunt Jennifer, with whom he would stay when his dad was on deployment, which was quite often during his teenage years. Yet even then, he never felt a great attachment to his aunt and her two children, Mark and Heather. Even at this young age, Adam already saw himself in the uniform of the U.S. Navy—and particularly wearing the trident of a Navy SEAL. And he knew from experience that trying to maintain a long-term relationship between dangerous deployments would be next to impossible.

And then he met Maria.

Not surprisingly, it had been in San Diego, right after BUD/S. With the testosterone raging in his system, he and his buddies would raid the bars and nightclubs in the Gaslamp District nearly every night, exuding the confidence that came from having just survived the hardest initiation of any club in the world. Nothing was beyond their grasp. They could conquer any foe, and bed any woman.

That was until he met Maria. She was a ravishing Latino beauty, who had been fending off the advances of all the young studs from Coronado her entire adult life. They didn’t impress her much; all macho bombast, and nothing more, great for a quick tryst, but nothing long-term.

After that first passionate encounter, Maria had resisted Adam’s advances for anything more long-lasting, yet the competitor in him never relented.

But then one night he’d gone too far.

He showed up at her apartment late that night, drunk on his ass, banging on her door, and otherwise being an obnoxious asshole. At the time, Maria shared an apartment in the Claremont area near Mission Bay with another girl from San Diego State. The roommate threatened to call the police, but Maria went outside to try to defuse the situation.

There, on the once-quiet cul-de-sac, at three in the morning, Maria had verbally laid into him, calling him everything from a disgusting bore to a stalker. Even in his inebriated state, Adam was profoundly embarrassed. He was enamored by Maria, and here she was making him feel like a desperate nerd in junior high, trying to get his first kiss.

But she was right. Ever since joining the SEALs and falling under the influence of the macho-competitiveness of the unit, he had not been himself. He normally wasn’t such an asshole. Instead, he was a serious, mature-for-his-age man with a well-developed goal in life. Yet now, the over-the-top confidence that SEAL training had instilled in him had overflowed into his personal relationships. And now he was falling for a woman who was not impressed with his bullshit.

He slinked home that night, believing he would never see Maria again.

Two weeks passed without him making contact with her again, and with each passing day, he began to realize how much he missed her. He thought about sending cards and flowers but concluded that would only confirm her belief that he was a stalker. How could he express his love if he couldn’t see her?

With his time in San Diego drawing to a close, Adam decided to go for broke, and the San Diego Chargers football team helped him out.

Maria was a big fan of the team, and he knew she was going to the game that coming Sunday. So like any good SEAL, he devised a plan. Of course at the time, he had no idea how expensive airplane banner advertising was. But this was love, and it was his last chance to win Maria’s heart before he headed east to Virginia Beach.

Draining his savings, along with a few reluctant loans from his buddies, Adam came up with the two thousand dollars it cost for a plane to fly the banner over QualComm Stadium during the game.

It was a simple message: I’m Sorry, Maria. Give Me Another Chance. Adam.

The banner made the evening news and soon went viral.

How could she say no after that?

Six months later they were married in a small church in Chesapeake, Virginia. Maria was already two months pregnant at the time.

It was hard on the newlyweds at first, as Adam was constantly either in advanced training or off on a secret mission somewhere. And it only got harder when Cassie was born. He hadn’t been there for the birth; instead he was wrapping up a six-month-long deployment in Iraq.

Everything changed for Adam the day he returned and saw the big, bright eyes of his daughter looking up at him. She seemed to know instinctively who he was—at least that’s what Adam thought. It was as if someone had flicked a switch in his heart, and from that moment on, Adam Cain was a devout family man. Nothing else mattered. He would do anything for Maria and Cassie.

As his Navy career progressed, Adam found that his new-found maturity helped. SEALs are very serious people; it’s not all about the bravado. Once he settled down in his personal life, Adam found advancement easier, as well as an unspoken respect coming from the senior personnel. Chief Geoffrey Rutledge, his NCOIC, confided in him that he was on the fast-track for advancement, either as an enlisted instructor, or possibly even Officer Candidate School. The choice would be Adam’s.

As soon as he returned from his latest mission in Afghanistan….

Chapter 9

Adam was on bridge watch, slumped down in the Juirean-size captain’s chair, with the lights dimmed and enjoying the three-quarters gravity that the aliens liked to keep their section of the ship set at. It was night on the ship—or at least it was in the artificial time schedule that they had established just a few days after leaving Zylim-4—and nearly everyone else was asleep.

Adam was doing his best to keep his own eyes open, when he noticed a brief blip on the forward display screen. It was right at the very edge of their sensor range, and only lasted a moment before it was gone.

With nothing better to do, Adam focused his attention on that part of the screen where he’d seen the blip. After a while—and as his eyes were beginning to cross—he saw the blip again. There was definitely something out there, just off the screen.

He left the chair and moved to the pilot’s seat. There was something out there that was either matching their speed or attempting to stay just out of sensor range. There was one way to find out for sure.

He took hold of the control stick and did a quick, short jerk back towards him. The huge battleship slowed just slightly, as the intensity of the well decreased by a fraction.

The blip was there, this time stronger, and there were two of them. A moment later, they disappeared off the screen again.

They were being followed and their pursuers did not want them to know it.

Adam brought the lights up on the bridge as he pressed the alarm button. A rhythmic whooping echoed throughout the ship, not as abrasive as a standard general quarters alarm, but just as effective. Soon the crew was running for their stations.

Kaylor and Jym were the first to the bridge. Adam surrendered the pilot’s seat, and then told the two aliens what had happened.

“Sounds like they’re staying just out of range,” Kaylor said. “They must be big in order to stay up with us. Jym, check the readout log and see if you can make a determination.”

“On it.” Jym brought up a recording of the contacts on his screen and ran a gravity analysis of their wells. Since the singularities were created far ahead of the actual spaceships, a lot could be discerned from their intensity and harmonics.

“The signature is of a similar frequency as our own. Class Five. That can only mean Juirean.”

“And you said you saw two signatures?” Kaylor asked.

“At least two.”

Riyad then entered the bridge. “Contacts?”

“Yep, and they look like Juireans.”

“Time to see if our crew is up to the task, eh?”

“We’ll fight if we have to, but there are multiple contacts.”

Chris Mullis entered the bridge next. Adam had put him in charge of the non-coverts and their training on the ship’s weapon systems. “Everyone’s at their stations, for what good it does. None of us have had any real experience with fighting a battle in space.”

“Nothing to it,” Riyad said with a smile. “Just like playing a video game back home.”

“If that’s true, then I guess we’re ready to kick some alien ass!”

Adam smiled at the light banter. He knew everyone was nervous, and this was just their way of coping.

Sherri Valentine entered the bridge next, again looking sultry with her bedhead and flushed cheeks. Adam figured she hadn’t been sleeping much when the alarm sounded, but rather engaged in more strenuous activities with Billy. He frowned, knowing he had to shake these thoughts from his head; they were beginning to interfere with his effectiveness as a leader.

Riyad brought her up to speed. “So what’s the plan, Stan?” she asked with a mischievous smile. Adam figured she was still on an endorphin-high, and slightly giddy. Her mood didn’t match the reality that a fleet of Juirean spacecraft were closing in on them.

“First of all, we have to assess the risk. I know I saw two blips, but there may be more.”

“It could be the entire Juirean invasion force!” Jym said from his seat at the nav computer.

“If that was the case, I don’t think they’d be playing cat-and-mouse with us,” Adam responded. He watched the faces of the two aliens as they lost the reference to cat and mouse. Adam shook his head; he didn’t have time to explain.

“No matter how many there are, we have to deal with them. They can’t be allowed to follow us all the way to Earth. Besides, I don’t think that’s their plan. I’d rather confront them on our terms, not theirs. So here’s what we’re going to do.”

He huddled everybody around Kaylor’s station. “Kaylor, I need you to stack the diffusion screens to the rear of the ship. Leave our forward sections uncovered if necessary.”

“That is risky,” Jym chimed in.

“But necessary. I need the Juireans to fire on us—”

“What? Are you insane?” Kaylor said, looking up at the smiling Human.

“Relax. We’ll be fine.” Adam put his hand on Kaylor’s shoulder. “I need you to slow down quite a bit, and quickly. We need to see how many ships are following us—and we need to let them know we see them. As soon as they start closing on us, speed up again. Get them coming after us as fast as they can.”

“You’re losing me as to the finer aspects of your plan, Mister Cain,” Riyad said with a frown. “I’m usually a step or two ahead of you by now.” He flashed a devious smile.

“Here’s how it’s going to go down. As soon as the Juireans fire on us, Kaylor takes two of the generators off-line. They’ll think we’re hit. Then as they rush in for the kill, we initiate a strong back-well, and let them shoot right by. I saw Tom Cruise do this in Top Gun.” Adam’s smile belayed the nerves building up in his gut.

He turned to Chris. “As they shoot past us, I need your guys to lay down a wide pattern of bolts. Hopefully, we’ll hit something. Then once we’re behind them, we shoot up their asses while they’re trying to regroup.”

No one spoke for a moment, until Sherri said, “I feel the need…”

And then all the Humans on the bridge sang out in chorus: “The need for speed!”

To which the aliens simply let their jaws drop open, looks of utter confusion plastered on their faces.

Chris relayed the plan to his gunner crews, to which many simply swallowed hard and turned back to their controls. This was going to get interesting.

Kaylor then jerked back on the stick. Almost instantly, five strong contacts appeared at the edge of the view screen. Adam had Kaylor hold there for a moment, as they watched the Juireans react to their move. At first they slowed down, but when they realized they had been spotted, the Juireans intensified the depths of their wells and shot after them.

Kaylor deepened his own well…and the chase was on.

“Oh, no!” Jym yelled from his station. All eyes whipped around to him.

“Two more contacts straight ahead!”

Kaylor buried his head in his computer. “They have a different signature.” He looked up at Adam, his eyes wide. “They’re Klin.”

“Have the Juireans spotted them?”

Kaylor looked back at this screen. “No. They’re still out of their sensor range.”

Adam thought for just a brief moment. This may actually help. “Keep going,” he ordered.

Just then, two of the pursuing Juireans let loose with a barrage of bolts, two each. “Hold steady, Kaylor, do not take evasive action.”

“They’re going to hit us!”

“That’s the plan. Steady!”

The bolts grew near, and soon the ship rumbled from their impact on the rear diffusion screens. The first two layers ruptured, but the others held.

“Now! Take two of the generators off-line.”

Kaylor obeyed, and the ship slowed noticeably, allowing the distance between them and the Juireans to close rapidly. As the distance shrank, everyone on the bridge waited for the next round of bolts to lash out. But none came forth.

“They think they’ve got us,” Chris commented, more to himself than to the others.

Adam leaned down next to Kaylor’s ear, and very calmly said, “Okay, dissolve the forward well, and engage the strongest back-well you can manage. Do it…now.”

The ship began to vibrate, as the internal gravity-wells and compensators fought against the sudden shift in inertia. The ship didn’t actually reverse course, but rather it slowed at an accelerated rate. As planned, the five Juirean ships shot past them at incredible speed, with their own ship slipping very close to two of the Juireans warships.

Two strong jerks were felt throughout the battlecruiser, as the gunners let loose a barrage of six bolts on each side of the ship, the maximum that could be fired broadside at a time. The bridge crew looked up at the larger tac screen on the forward bulkhead, just as the graphic showed four of the bolts hitting home.

Cheers rose up as one of the attacking ships dropped out of the pattern and drifted off to the right. The other ship that had been hit continued on with its companions, although the strength of its well could be seen dropping off rapidly.

They were now behind the Juireans, and Chris Mullis shouted into a comm link, “Fire at will!”

The ship began to rock as more bolts shot out from the great battleship’s myriad of gun turrets. These first bolts were absorbed by the Juirean screens, but the secret to ship-to-ship combat came with repeated hits in the same location. The bolts continued to trail off from Adam’s ship.

On the screen, the Juireans were seen making wide arcing turns to double back and engage Adam’s battleship. But just as they were in their turns, the Juirean screens began to detect the two Klin ships ahead of them. Confused, the four remaining Juirean warships hesitated in their turns. Two returned to their original course, heading for the Klin.

Before they knew it, the Klin were within their ranks and strafing the Juireans with bolts of intense plasma energy. Adam watched the dance on the tac screen, thankful for any help he could get…when suddenly the tac screen washed out.

“What happened?” Chris asked.

“Nukes!” Jym yelled. “Both Klin ships have exploded! Nuclear explosions—very intense! Impact approaching!”

Adam’s heart leapt into his throat. The polarizing filter kicked in and the tac screen cleared. Filling it now was the blue and yellow fire of an approaching nuclear wave. It was only seconds away.

Adam dove for Kaylor’s station and shoved him out of the chair. Taking the controls for the gravity-wells—both forward and aft—Adam cranked them both up to max. Instantly, the ship felt as if it was being torn in half, as an intense, rumbling vibration coursed throughout the vessel. Next, he cranked up the internal wells as high as they would go. These were much smaller than the drive-wells, but still the effect with immediate and dramatic.

Everyone throughout the ship was pulled to the deck, pressed there by the increased gravity, and feeling as if an elephant had suddenly stepped on their bodies. Screams were forced out of collapsing lungs, and through his bloodshot eyes, Adam could see Kaylor and Jym lapse into unconsciousness on the floor beside him.

And then the wave hit them. Through the effects of vertigo, it was as if the ship was tumbling over and over, as lights flickered and bulkheads strained. Darkness came upon the bridge, and even the battery backups fought to maintain their charge as the electromagnetic pulse swept throughout the ship. The tumbling sensation and crushing gravity continued for what felt like an eternity, as the cries from those on the bridge echoed off the metal bulkheads.

Then the tumbling stopped and the groaning of the metal bulkheads tapered off.

But still the incapacitating weight pressed down upon their bodies.

Through the pain, Adam forced himself to crawl the meter or so to Kaylor’s now-empty pilot’s seat. He fought against the invisible force to lift an arm to the seat, and then to pull himself up even more. Through screams of his own, Adam’s hand reached the top of the control console, wrapping his fingers around what he hoped was the gravity intensity knob. He cranked it down…and felt the ship surge suddenly to the rear. The wrong control. He felt again and found another. As he turned this one, the weight began to lift from his body. A second later he had the gravity for the bridge back to normal, and he felt the rush of air returning to his lungs.

Even though his body still cried out in pain, he crawled onto Kaylor’s seat and turned down the gravity in the other four sections of the ship, as well as dissolving the forward and aft wells.

The ship was dead in space, but at least they were alive.

The Humans recovered the quickest, lifting themselves up off the cold metal deck, groans of pain spilling involuntarily from their mouths. Adam saw Kaylor and Jym lying prone of the floor, blood flowing from their ears and noses.

He fell to the deck and lifted Kaylor’s head. He had no idea where to check for a pulse on the alien, so he rested an ear on Kaylor’s chest. To his delight, there was a rapid heartbeat. Gently, he set Kaylor back down on the deck and repeated the maneuver with Jym. He was alive as well.

Adam leaned back against the base of the command console and looked at the rest of the people on the bridge. They appeared to be no worse for wear, just a lot of stiff movements and bloodshot eyes. He desperately hoped there would be no lasting damage to the two aliens. He was sure that another second or two of the crushing gravity and they would have died.

“What the hell just happened?” Sherri managed to ask, her voice rough and weak. She climbed into one of the command chairs lining the bridge and looked at the image on the forward tac screen. All around were the last dancing blue, white and green remnants of the electrical discharge from the nuclear explosions. They had been exceptionally large explosions in order to affect such a vast region of nearby space; not your normal Earth-size nukes, but alien designs developed over thousands of years of advanced technology.

“Sherri, can you take a look at Kaylor and Jym?” Adam asked, his voice raspy, his throat dry. “They’re alive, but I don’t know what condition they’re in.”

Riyad was leaning against the command console, looking down at Adam seated on the deck. “I guess I should thank you for saving our lives, but I don’t really feel like it right now.”

Chris was also climbing into one of the large Juirean-size command chairs. “What are you talking about? What just happened?”

Riyad looked over at him with a wry smile. “Adam used the cranked up front and back gravity-wells to absorb most of the blast from the explosions, creating a pair of very effective space vacuums. We’ll have to check the radiation levels, but I’m assuming we’re going to make it through okay.”

He looked again at Adam. “Well played, Mister Cain. Well played.”

“Just seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“What about the Juireans?” Sherri asked as she tended to the two aliens. They were just now regaining consciousness. She had torn off a piece of her tunic and was dabbing the blood from Jym’s nose. Both aliens were blinking rapidly, spittle draining from their open mouths.

“Are you all right?” Adam asked. He watched as the sound of his voice slowly began to register with the aliens. Kaylor awkwardly bobbed his head. “I believe so. Are you sure that was the only thing you could have done to save us? We almost died.”

“Like I said, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Riyad had turned to the tac screen and was studying the graphics. “It looks like it’s just us and one of the Juireans left; the ship that was knocked out of the fight. Their energy readouts are almost non-existent. They probably took the full brunt of the radiation.”

“Chris, can you take Sherri to check on the other men. Even though we survived the blast, some of them may have been hurt when they fell to the deck.”

Jym and Kaylor were struggling to their feet, and were soon back in their seats, still dazed and stiff. Adam stood next to Kaylor.

“Can you check the radiation level inside the ship, and run a systems check? Are we still able to operate?”

Kaylor busied himself at his computer. “Radiation levels are high, but within tolerances. Most systems are still functioning, but the electronic pulse did damage some. These ships are usually hardened against such things. They have automated systems designed to repair the damage. It could still take a couple of days before we’re fully functional again.”

Adam looked up at the tac screen. “How far is the Juirean ship?”

“Only a couple hundred kilometers,” Riyad answered. “Why?”

“I want to go aboard. I need to see if there’s anyone left alive who can either provide us with intel, or who might report back to their forces.”

“I’ll come with you.”

Adam turned to Kaylor. “Are you up to flying us over there in the landing craft?”

“Yes…if I can set the internal gravity on the shuttle.”

Adam smiled. “Of course, and the lighter the better, my friend. I ache all over, too.”

Ten minutes later, an entourage led by Kaylor, was approaching the rear cargo hold, and beyond that, the main landing bay. Billy Piscopo and Chris Mullis had joined them, and the team was all armed with MK-17’s. Kaylor had advised them to wear full environmental suits aboard the Juirean ship to protect against the radiation. The suits were in the landing bay.

As they neared the compartment, a strong arm reached out of a doorway and grabbed Kaylor around the neck. One of the 2G’s appeared—the one Adam had shot in the chest—shielded by the surprised alien and holding the sharp end of an auto-screwdriver pressed against Kaylor’s neck. The man stared emotionless at Adam and Riyad, their MK’s now drawn and locked on the young man.

“Don’t… or I will slash his throat!” the man said. Adam could see all the 2G’s from the holding cells standing in the room.

It must have been the loss of internal power that freed the prisoners, Adam reasoned. Electronic locks had deactivated and never reset. The 2G’s were free and holding the ship’s primary pilot—and Adam’s friend—hostage.

“Just relax,” Adam said, placing his weapon back in its holster. “Let him go and we’ll talk this out.”

“No, we are taking him with us. He will pilot the shuttle off this ship.”

“Have you thought this through? We’re in the middle of the Far Arm. Where will you go?”

“There are Klin bases throughout the Arm. We’ll find one.”

Damn! So he had thought it through.

“Listen, if you keep this up, it’s not going to end well.”

“Drop your weapons and kick them over here. Then back away.”

Adam pursed his lips and shook his head. “You might as well go ahead and kill him. We’re not giving up our weapons.”

“I will kill him!”

“And then we’ll kill you,” Riyad said, pointing his weapon at the man, who hid farther behind the scared and wide-eyed alien.

Just then, Adam noticed an air vent in the room with the 2G’s move and separate from the ceiling. The barrel of a bolt launcher appeared.

“One more chance,” Adam said, returning his attention to the man. “Release him, or we’ll have to do something about this.”

“No. Move away. We’re going to the landing bay now.”

Just as the man began to move to his right, the flash of a bolt lit up the room. The ball of energy hit the 2G at the base of the neck, and he collapsed to the deck. The remaining 2G’s rushed out of the room and into the corridor, carrying any weapon they could find—metal bars, tools and the like. The air vent in the room crashed to the floor, as Chris Mullis fired bolt after bolt at the men below. Adam saw the fire in his eyes. These were the men who had held him captive, and now Chris was having his revenge.

Four of the prisoners rushed into the corridor and toward Adam and Riyad. Adam pulled his MK, just as Riyad let loose with several bolts of his own. It was over a moment later, with all nine of the 2G’s lying dead on the deck, the last wispy vapors from the bolts still hanging in the air.

Kaylor fell against the bulkhead, rubbing his bruised neck and looking at Adam through squinted, angry eyes.

“After all we have been through…you were going to let him kill me!”

As Adam surveyed the dead men around him, he placed a hand casually on the alien’s shoulder. “He wasn’t going to kill you. You were his only bargaining chip.”

“I do not understand. He was going to kill me.”

Adam turned to him. “No, he wasn’t. Trust me. I would never let anything happen to my favorite alien.”

“I’m your favorite?”

“Yeah, sure,” Adam said, as they stepped past the bodies, heading for the landing bay. “You’re my favorite Martian.”

“Adam, I have not been receiving good translations recently. I wish you would speak in more commonly used language.”

“I’ll do my best, ET.”

“There you go again!”

Chapter 10

An hour later, the landing craft docked at the open hangar bay of the other Juirean Class Five battlecruiser. As they approached the huge warship, Adam saw where plasma bolts had penetrated the hull just forward of the aft generator room. The lucky barrage of bolts had done the trick, catching the Juireans off guard and disabling the drive generators. The other power systems remained active, but as the deadly heat and radiation from the nuclear explosions continued to affect the ship, more of the systems were failing. Soon the huge battlecruiser would be dead.

Once in the landing bay, Adam’s group exited the shuttle, leaving Kaylor inside. The landing party consisted of Adam, Riyad, Chris and Billy, and they found that the internal airlocks were still functioning—for the time being—so the main part of the ship was still airtight. However, it was the radiation that now spelled the demise of the Juirean battlecruiser. Kaylor told the landing party they could only stay aboard for thirty minutes, even with the environment suits. After that, they would start suffering the effects of the radiation themselves.

Since this was a sister ship of the one they were on, Adam’s group had no trouble navigating the various corridors leading to the bridge. Along the way, they found a few dead Juireans, in addition to a larger contingent of other dead creatures. Even aboard Juirean battleships, the crew was comprised of about eighty percent non-Juireans. There just were not enough Juireans to go around.

The bridge was empty of any surviving crewmembers, but as they entered, they heard voices coming from the captain’s quarters to the rear of the bridge.

With weapons drawn, they entered the room.

Inside were three Juireans, two on a long couch to the left, and a third seated at a desk to the right. The one at the desk wore the capes of the captain, his green-tinted mane now matted and oily.

Each of the Juireans sat slouched and round-shouldered, their eyes weepy and bloodshot. None of them had the energy to protest when Adam’s party entered the room.

Adam walked up to the captain. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

“You offer to help? Your race is very peculiar.” The voice was weak and strained. “You and your Klin allies are sub-beings, with no regard for other life. You will kill yourselves to kill others. I can see now why you must be exterminated.” The Juirean coughed, and blood sprayed on the desk before him.

“Are you sending a fleet to Earth?” Adam asked pointedly.

“It is no secret, not now. We have no choice. We must defend ourselves against your invasion.”

Adam shook his head. “It doesn’t matter to you now, but we’re not your enemy. Both our races are being maneuvered into a war by the Klin.”

Adam could see the Juirean captain growing weaker by the second. The Juirean let out a small laugh. “Yes, it does not matter. Whether it is the Klin or the Humans, we will defend our space against our enemies. But do you have any idea what you are up against, trying to wage war against the Expansion?”

“Do you, you worthless piece of alien shit?” said Billy Piscopo, stepping forward. “We’re not some two-bit race that you can just squash like bugs!”

Adam grabbed him by the arm and spun him away. Then he leaned in and whispered, “Relax, Billy. And yes, we are a two-bit race, compared to these assholes.”

Adam turned his attention back to the Juirean. “How soon until you attack?”

“I will not tell, and since I am already dead, I am sure there is nothing you can do to me in the short time I have left to make me tell you.”

Adam pursed his lips and nodded. “You’re probably right,” was all he said. Then he lifted the bolt launcher and sent a blast into the Juirean’s forehead. Next, he turned and placed bolts into the other two aliens.

Riyad moved up next to him. “Hope you got some satisfaction out of that.”

“Some…but not enough.”

Adam turned and left the room, his entourage closely behind.

Chapter 11

After three months aboard the Juirean battlecruiser, Adam and his crew were now approaching the final coordinates that marked the location of the planet Earth. At Kaylor’s insistence, they had deviated from the track by about five light-years, knowing that the most direct path to the system would be carefully monitored by the Klin.

Through high-resolution scans, Jym had been able to identify a stellar system that appeared to fit the criteria Adam had outlined as that of the Solar System. As Adam and Sherri helped pinpoint the distinctive gas giants and rocky inner worlds on the still-fuzzy image, their hearts beat a little faster. The number of planets and their locations looked right. And when the outline of the planet Saturn appeared on the screen—with its distinctive rings—Adam knew they had the right system.

Utilizing Chris’s drug-smuggler plan, the battlecruiser shot past the solar system by over ten light-years before doubling back. They even used the Sun as a shield for part of the way in, only revealing themselves at the last moment as they lined up for a slow, shallow-well run for the Moon.

As they drew nearer to the Earth, Kaylor scanned for any gravity signatures they could detect around the planet but found none. Everyone on the bridge looked at each other, worry frowns creasing their brows. Even though the Klin were as much their enemy as the Juireans, without a fleet of 2G’s available to counter the impending Juirean attack, the planet Earth was doomed. Not detecting any signatures made the assembled Humans very nervous.

“They have to be there,” Sherri said, staring at the screen over Kaylor’s left shoulder. “They’re just hiding.”

“Of course they are,” Adam agreed, using his own words in a vain attempt to calm the knot in his stomach. “They can’t run the risk of having any forward Juirean scouts detect them before the main fleet arrives.”

They all nodded their agreement, even though the frowns never softened.

“This blows our plan for sneaking in among all the other gravity signatures,” Riyad stated. No one said a word for a good minute or so. Then he continued. “We should still use the Moon as a shield as much as possible, with a very shallow-well when approaching. We might be able to pass ourselves off as a much smaller ship, something that won’t set off any alarms.”

Again, everyone nodded their agreement.

“They have to be there….” Sherri repeated, her voice trailing off into the quiet tension on the bridge.

Much to their surprise—and relief—the huge battlecruiser managed to approach the dark side of the Moon without incident. The pockmarked surface of the gray orb grew ever larger, and disappointment grew on the bridge as the Moon completely obscured the Earth from their sight. They had come so far to get home, and even now they were being denied the chance to gaze upon their wondrous homeworld.

After saying a heart-felt goodbye to Kaylor and Jym—if only temporary—Adam and his crew of Humans met up in the landing bay and entered a Juirean landing craft. The plan was for Kaylor to set the great battleship down on the surface of the Moon and wait for Adam’s signal. Once received, Kaylor would then move the ship into Earth’s orbit.

That was about as far as the plan went. None of them had any idea what kind of reception they would receive…and with the Juirean fleet bearing down on the planet, they didn’t have much time for unnecessary protocol. The planet needed to be warned, and from there it was up to people much smarter than Adam to figure out what to do next.

All Adam had to do was deliver the news. After that he had to find Maria and Cassie and discover what remnants of a life he had left with them—if any.

Adam watched from the pilothouse of the landing craft as Kaylor set the huge Juirean battleship down on the surface of the Moon. Using chemical drive, the one-sixth Earth’s gravity allowed for a surface landing of the spaceship, something not normal for a ship its size. Prodigious amounts of dust flew around the craft, obscuring the ship from view.

Feeling a traced of nostalgia, Adam twisted the shuttle around, and shot off toward the horizon. Within minutes, the brilliant blue and white globe of the Earth came into view, and all the people in the over-crowded pilothouse craned to get a look. While lost in the alien universe, Adam had seen a dozen other worlds from space, but this one was different.

This one was home.

Adam chanced a glance around the room. There wasn’t a dry eye in the place, including his. The moment was extremely emotional, since the chance of it ever arriving had been surrendered years ago. Even Adam—with his stubborn and single-minded ambition to get home—had known deep down inside that he was chasing a dream.

But the dream had come true. He was home.

He engaged a shallow-well and the planet grew in size. There were murmurs from around him, as many of the non-converts got their first real look at space travel, gravity-drive style. Even though they had been aboard a starship for nearly four months, most had not spent any time on the bridge in order to take in the sights of faster-than-light travel. To them, this was something out of a science fiction movie. They were finding that reality was much more impressive.

The trip from the Moon to the Earth only took twenty minutes at this well-setting. As they entered the atmosphere, Adam slowed down and re-oriented the shuttle for a gravity landing, foregoing a chemical-based descent. He wanted to get down to the surface as soon as possible.

Finding Roswell, New Mexico, turned out to be another problem. Since the Juirean landing craft didn’t have an Earth-oriented GPS system, Adam had to rely on others on the bridge to help guide him to the city. He had a vague idea where it was, but he had never been there himself, and trying to spot it from the air was a whole other matter. When they did finally come to a consensus as to the location of Roswell, Adam still crossed his fingers that they had the right city, and not Santa Fe or even Tucson, Arizona.

Within minutes, the red dust and sagebrush of the New Mexico desert billowed past the viewport, heading upward toward the gravity point located somewhere far above the shuttle.

The landing was perfectly smooth, and when Adam dissolved the well, there was only a slight increase from the ship’s gravity compared to that of the planet’s. Adam felt a tinge of pride. With absolutely nothing to gauge it by, he had estimated Earth’s gravity pretty close. He gave himself a mental pat on the back.

Moments later, everyone had left the pilothouse and joined the others in the troop bay at the rear of the shuttle. Riyad fingered the controls and the back panel fell away, forming a ramp on which they raced down at the earliest opportunity. As the warm, fresh air of Earth flowed around him, Adam witnessed an amazing scene, as several of the men knelt on the dry, dusty surface and actually kissed the ground. Others just sat down in the dirt and sobbed. Sherri moved up next to him and they embraced strongly, tears flowing from their eyes.

Riyad stood off to the side, moisture welling up in his eyes as well, looking a little uncomfortable. Sherri noticed and pulled Adam over to him to form a passionate group hug. Soon all three were sobbing loudly between deep laughs and murmurs of mutual gratitude.

They made it. They were home.

Chapter 12

After grabbing whatever crates or chairs they could find, a number of the occupants of the shuttle now sat in the warm, late autumn sunshine and waited. It had been an hour since they landed, and still they laughed and joked and otherwise shared the giddy feelings they were experiencing. It would take a lifetime of trying for the repatriated Humans to match this moment in time. And even then, nothing ever would.

As it turned out, Adam had set them down about a kilometer north of US-70 and ten kilometers west of Roswell, near the intersection of Tierra Grande Boulevard. When the cavalry eventually arrived, he didn’t want them to have to off-road it too far. He had no doubt their descent had been tracked, and that even now, a contingent of helicopters and Humvees was headed their way.

He didn’t have to wait long for confirmation.

The first indicator came from the distant hump-hump-hump of approaching helicopters. He spotted two Apache AH-64’s a moment later, along with a pair of larger Chinook CH-47’s on the horizon, approaching from the northeast. Seconds later, the fierce-looking Apaches swept over them at eighty knots; Adam was sure video of the scene below was being beamed back to any number of waiting eyes, both locally and all the way back to the Pentagon.

The Chinooks set down in clouds of sand and dust about a hundred meters away, while the Apaches remained aloft, taking up sentry positions a kilometer beyond. Eight people departed one of the 47’s, all wearing yellow hazmat suits with full headgear. Three carried monitoring equipment, while the other five were armed with M4 carbine assault rifles.

By the time the people from the helo had covered the distance between their LZ and the shuttle, six Humvees had pulled off the highway and began the short trek over the flat, sagebrush-covered landscape. The vehicles fanned out, leaving a wide trail of dust streaming out behind them.

Four of the Humvees had men manning 50-caliber M2HB machine gun turrets, and the armored vehicles skidded to a halt about fifty meters from the shuttle. Two of the other Humvees continued closer, coming to a stop next to the landing craft. As the dust cloud blew past them, an Army officer and his entourage climbed out, squinting through the cloud and into the afternoon sun. A few of the men from the shuttle rose from their seats and began to move toward the troops.

“No!” Adam called out. “Stay where you are.” He stood near the rear of the shuttle and raised his arms, clasping his hands behind his head. Sherri and Riyad quickly followed suit. Soon, all thirty-five of them stood like silent monuments, casting long shadows in the approaching evening light, their hands locked behind their heads, watching as the troops and scientists drew near.

What followed was a daze of activity—and confusion—as the ground troops learned that all the occupants of the spacecraft they’d tracked from orbit were Human. After checking them for radiation and other trace elements that could contaminate the scene—or the planet—the scientists removed their hoods and stood around with nothing much more to do. They had to wait for more qualified personnel to arrive before entering the spacecraft itself.

Army Captain Jonathan Aronson was in charge of the troops, and others from the shuttle indicated Adam as their leader. For his arrival on Earth, Adam had cut his hair to a tight half-inch buzz and changed into his olive green t-shirt and boonie hat. As the officer approach, Adam saluted briskly and introduced himself and his rank. The captain slowly returned his salute.

“I suppose you have some explaining to do, mister,” he said, scanning Adam up and down.

“Yes, sir. And boy, do we have a story to tell. However, I believe the information I have to report should be done at a more secure location. I also recommend that all the people here be sequestered until fully debriefed.”

Sherri and Riyad looked at him with deep frowns. He turned to them. “We can’t let the news about what’s coming leak out to the public. It could cause a panic.”

“I know that,” Sherri said pointedly, “but I would really like to let my family know that I’m alive.”

“You will—as we all will—but first we need to control the scene. Let’s let the military do their thing.”

“You have a lot more trust in them than we do, Adam,” Riyad spoke up. Sherri nodded vigorously.

“Trust me on this.”

Captain Aronson had watched the back and forth long enough. “Quiet!” he commanded, getting their attention. “I’m securing this location, and this…vehicle. Once I get direction from Command, I’ll tell you what’s going to happen next. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” all three of them said in unison.

Within four hours of their arrival on Earth, all thirty-five repatriated Humans were aboard a military Boeing 757 and on their way to Washington D.C. Adam, Sherri and Riyad had been singled out and moved into the forward section of the aircraft. An Air Force major was with them, along with three stenographers and four military police. Adam did his best to report the sitrep clearly and distinctly. Every five minutes or so, the information he was relating was transmitted to Washington.

During the trip, real Human food and drink was provided, much to the immense pleasure of all aboard. Adam had not realized how far off the alien food processors had been until he had something to compare it to. He ate so much and so fast that he risked getting sick. But he didn’t care, none of them did. They were home.

It was a little after four in the morning on the East Coast when they landed at Joint Base Andrews outside of Washington, D.C. From there, a military and police escort—complete with flashing lights—took the three of them through the near-deserted streets of D.C. to the Pentagon. Adam was told the other thirty-two men would be following and would be housed at the Pentagon as well.

Adam had never been to the Pentagon, and it was only a minute after they entered the massive structure that he was completely lost and turned around. Much to his surprise, the building was full of people, even at this early hour. Many of them looked as though they’d just been roused out of bed and called into the office, existing only on coffee and Red Bull. Adam got the feeling that a lot of them were there because of him. At least he was hoping that was the case; the warning he had come to give was real and dire.

Eventually, they were led into a vast conference room, with a massive oblong table of polished mahogany wrapping around a central open area. Huge monitors lined nearly every inch of the surrounding walls. Enlisted personnel of all military branches scurried about inside the open area, placing documents before the people already seated around the table. There was about a seventy/thirty mix of men to women around the table, all either dressed in suits and business attire or military dress uniforms from all branches. Adam had never seen as many gold braids and silver stars in one place before. It was obvious that his preliminary report had made an impact.

As they entered, all eyes focused on them, many with looks of suspicion or concern. Many of the civilians in the room had aides seated next to them, whispering in their ears and pointing out sections of the papers before them. Every station around the table also had a laptop computer, and Adam could see the screens on some of the closer ones as they were led to three vacant seats near the center of the table. Most of the screens displayed aerial views of the landing craft and of Adam’s group; tiny figures casting long shadows in the early evening light. One of the screens even showed an image of Adam in full military attire. He immediately recognized the image as one from his service jacket.

Even though the scene was intimidating, Adam was expecting it. In fact, he was relieved to see that his report was being taken seriously. He was sure it helped to have arrived in an alien spacecraft….

His gaze scanned the room before noticing a stern looking man seated against the wall to his left, wearing the dress uniform of a Navy lieutenant. He was staring at Adam.

It was Lt. Andrew Tobias, his team leader. Adam hadn’t seen him since the night he and his team boarded the helo at Bagram Air Base in Afghanistan, on their way to that fateful mission in the Hindu Kush—the night Adam was abducted.

Adam smiled broadly at his LT. All he received in turn was a cold, hard stare. Adam swallowed loudly, and then turned his attention back to the rest of the room as the meeting was being called to order.

Abruptly, the room grew quiet, as a distinguished looking man with a masculine square jaw and thin-rimmed glasses cleared his throat. He was seated directly across the room from Adam, and the placard in front of him read: ‘Matthew St. Claire, Secretary of Defense.’

“I want to thank all of you for attending this very important meeting at such short notice. Unfortunately, we do not have the luxury of time.” St. Claire said. He paused as he made cursory eye contact with all the people seated around the table. “In front of you—and on your computer screens—is a report that has been provided to us by Petty Officer 2nd Class Adam Cain.” He nodded toward Adam, and all eyes locked on him. “Mr. Cain, and his associates have just completed a truly amazing journey …and has brought back an equally amazing tale.”

Adam didn’t like the use of the word tale when referring to his report, but he chose to reserve judgment of the SecDef until he saw where the meeting was headed.

“For most of you, this report will read like a science fiction novel as Mr. Cain relates the story of an empire of alien beings and their military forces, who—according to him—are currently on their way to Earth. He states that these aliens—the Juireans they’re called—are coming here to exterminate the Human race.”

There were loud murmurs around the room, along with several bullshits voiced softly, yet distinctly. Adam noticed how about a third of the room didn’t react at all to the news, while the others were quite animated.

“I know how crazy this may sound to all of you, and you’re probably wondering if the old man has lost his mind, dragging us out of our warm beds at this hour just to hear such a crazy story.” The SecDef managed a wide grin as he scanned the room. Then the smile vanished in a flash, and his eyes narrowed. “Yet, as you scan the documents in front of you, you will see that Mr. Cain and his companions did indeed arrive in a spacecraft of alien design, with technology well beyond what currently exists on this planet. I hope now you will understand why Petty Officer Cain’s report must be taken seriously, and why you are here at this early hour.” The room once again erupted in an explosion of voices.

“Quiet please,” St. Claire said, attempting to still the room, his voice rising as he did so. Many of those at the table were still shaking their heads and voicing their skepticism. “Before we get ahead of ourselves, I would like those of you around this table not already privy to this information to listen very carefully to what I say next.” St. Claire was an experienced politician, and he delivered his remarks with the cadence and tone of a true professional. By the time he resumed speaking, the entire room was deathly quiet, with all attention focused on him.

“I can verify that what Mr. Cain has reported concerning the existence of this alien race is one-hundred percent true.”

The table again erupted in a cacophony of voices, even louder than before. “What do you mean?” “That’s impossible.” Along with even more bullshits.

St. Claire raised his hand. “Please listen to me. Please.” When the room returned to a somewhat manageable level, the Secretary continued. “We have been in receipt of certain intelligence for some time now that supports Mr. Cain’s claims of the existence of the Juireans. As a matter of national security, we have kept this information secret from most individuals in the public and in the government, including most of you at this table.”

Adam squared his jaw. He knew there was a possibility that the Klin had already made contact with the powers-that-be on Earth. He also knew that his task just became much more complicated. The Klin and 2G’s would have already passed themselves off as the saviors of Earth, and this would make it that much harder to convince others that the Klin were not much better than the Juireans, and in fact had conspired to bring the coming crisis into existence.

But what else could he do but tell the truth? Blame had to be placed where it properly belonged. Yet no matter how responsible the Klin were for the events closing in upon the Earth, Adam also knew that they were humanity’s only hope. Without the Klin fleet to beat back the Juireans, every man, woman and child on the planet would die. Even then, the people of Earth deserved to know exactly what their new friends were up to. Once the truth was out, then it would be up to the diplomats to make things right—if possible.

“And what about his assertion that there’s a force coming here to destroy us?” Adam read the placard of the speaker as Secretary of the Interior, Ronald Walker.

The SecDef shook his head. “That is where some of our information is in conflict.”

“Don’t you think this is vital information that must be confirmed?”

“Yes I do, Mr. Secretary.” Adam could hear the sarcasm in St. Claire’s voice. “We are currently attempting to verify this information as we speak.”

Walker turned to Adam. “Mr. Cain, what evidence do you have regarding this impending attack?”

Adam was caught off guard by the sudden question and the attention it focused on him. He cleared his throat. “Mr. Secretary, we intercepted a message on our way back to Earth that spoke of an impending invasion of Juirean space by us, the Humans. Later, we were attacked by Juirean spacecraft, and I had a conversation with their commander. He verified that the Juirean fleet is massing for an attack against the Earth. He told me that they had no choice but to answer the threat of the Human invasion.”

“What invasion are you speaking of,” said a thick-set man with the perpetual tan of an infantryman.

Adam turned to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Damien Daniels. “Sir, I don’t know. It’s our belief that the message was sent to provoke a conflict between us and the Juireans.”

“By whom?” someone down the table called out.

“By another race called the Klin.”

More murmurs around the table. “So now there is another race of aliens involved?” said the Secretary of the Interior, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Yes, sir. And we believe they are the ones who have set all these events in motion.”

“Who are the we you refer to, Mr. Cain?” asked General Daniels.

“My companions and I.” Adam noticed Sherri and Riyad shift nervously in their seats.

“Let’s see,” said the CJCS, looking down at the papers in front of him. “A known Al-Qaeda terrorist, and a former veterinary student. Hardly a very credentialed set of analysts.”

“With all due respect, General, but Ms. Valentine has spent the past three years living within the alien community, and Mr. Tarazi, the last seven. We have a lot more first-hand experience than anyone else in this room regarding these beings and the threat they pose.”

Adam could see the General—the highest ranking military officer in the country—

bristle at being dressed down by a mere E-5.

“If I can say something at this juncture,” the Secretary of Defense said, much to Adam’s relief. “All of you at this meeting have been brought here to be briefed on this current situation. You are a select group of individuals who are vital to the events that will take place going forward. As I said, some of you are already aware of certain highly classified information, others are completely unaware. But very few of you are privy to all the information. Since from this day forward, the Human race will never be the same, the need for absolute secrecy has passed. However, it will be the President, as well as various other leaders around the world, who will decide how and when the full story is disseminated to the public. But I will now brief all of you as to what we do know—and what we don’t—up to this moment.

“First of all, we are also aware of the race of beings called the Klin. We have been in contact with them for a number of years.”

“Are they helping us against these other aliens?” someone down the table shouted out.

“Please let me finish before you ask your questions. But yes, the Klin have been helping us, but mainly through their surrogates, a group of Humans whom they’ve trained for this very occurrence. The Klin are very few, so they have been recruiting certain Humans to be part of this defense force.”

“Recruiting?” Sherri called out. “If you call kidnapping and rape recruiting.”

“Please, Ms. Valentine. I believe you have not been fully informed as to the goals and methods of the Klin.”

“Excuse me, sir, but I have been there.”

“Then some of your experiences must be either an anomaly, or a misunderstanding on your part.”

“That’s bulls—” Adam put his hand on Sherri’s arm.

“Mr. Secretary, we have met the Klin, as well as their so-called recruits,” Adam said. “Most of these people were born off the planet and raised by the Klin from birth. You cannot trust what they’re telling you.”

“And so we are to refuse their help because of your experience with these aliens?” said General Daniels. “How do you propose we defend ourselves against an alien attack?”

“Everyone calm down,” said the Secretary of Defense. “The information you’ve presented today, Mr. Cain, conflicts with the reality that many of us in this room have experienced firsthand. And as General Daniels intimates, we, as a race, are ill-prepared to resist an attack from such a highly advanced alien race as the Juireans.”

“I wouldn’t call them that advanced….” Riyad decided to throw in.

“They are more advanced than we are, Mr. Tarazi. That much is not in dispute,” countered the Secretary, losing his composure even more. “We must rely on—” An aide rushed up to the Secretary and whispered in his ear. St. Claire sat up a little straighter, as he whispered something back to the aide. The young man rushed out of the room.

Addressing the room again: “I have just been informed that we have a very special guest who will shed more light on our situation.” He turned his attention to a side door, not the main entrance to the conference room.

The door opened, and a slender being, dressed all in silver, was brought into the room seated in a wheelchair. The creature had long, white hair flowing down his back, and his eyes were a deep black. He was slouched in the chair and had a small tube running up to his almost non-existent nose. There were three men with him, and Adam noticed immediately their blank, even countenance. 2G’s, Adam knew for sure.

The Klin was wheeled up to an empty slot in the table.

Again, Adam noticed how two-thirds of those at the table began to shift nervously and whisper to each other, while the other third showed no surprise at all at the sight of a real alien being.

“Calm down, please,” St. Claire pleaded. “I would like to introduce to you Ambassador Senior Fellow Lumonsee…of the Klin race. He has been our direct contact with his race for eight years. He is known personally to a handful of the people in this room, and to a few of you by reputation. For the rest of you, I know this may come as a shock.”

“That’s an understatement,” said the Secretary of the Interior.

St. Claire turned to the Ambassador. “Senior Fellow, may I ask you to please relay to the room what you have learned?”

The Klin leaned closer to the small microphone in front of him. “First of all, I would like to thank the Secretary for the opportunity to address you here this morning.” Adam noticed that the Klin spoke English, which made sense considering his assignment to the Earth. It was also a pretty good bet that the only three Humans in the room with translation bugs imbedded behind their ears were Adam, Sherri and Riyad. The Klin’s voice was soft and modulated, making his words easily understood.

“If you are wondering, I must travel in this wheelchair because the gravity of your planet is much stronger than I am used to. It is quite exhausting for me to move around on your world. But now getting to the matter at hand…we do not have much time.” The alien looked directly at Adam.

“I have been in contact with my people and they have confirmed that a massive force of Juirean warships is currently in route to the Earth.”

The room erupted in voices again, and it took the SecDef and General Daniels a full minute to calm them down.

“Please, let me continue,” the Klin said, his voice louder now to be heard over the din. “Yes, the Juireans are coming. We have anticipated this event occurring for a number of years, but we had no idea it would happen so soon.” He paused and looked again directly at Adam. “It appears that the Juireans have been led to the Earth…and by the Humans who recently arrived on your planet.”

Adam shot to his feet. “That’s bullshit! We didn’t lead them here. You did, with that message of yours!”

“MP’s, will you please restrain Petty Officer Cain?” said the SecDef, pointing his finger at Adam.

Adam turned to the uniformed MP’s, “Relax. I’m sitting down. But this isn’t right. We didn’t lead them here. That’s the truth.”

“But Mr. Cain, you mention this so-called message in your report, the one that we Klin supposedly sent. Do you have any proof that we sent this message, or that it even exists?”

“Not with me.”

“Then I see nothing to dispute our conclusion. Besides, why would we send such a message?”

“If I may interrupt,” said the Secretary of Homeland Security, Phyllis Conrad. “Who led these aliens to us is of little importance at this moment. Right now, I need to know if we are in any danger. Mr. Ambassador, since our two races have been working together for a number of years…are you prepared to defend us against the Juirean threat?”

The pale-faced alien scanned the pleading eyes of those at the table. The room turned graveyard-quiet. “I’m afraid not. We have been caught unprepared by the premature arrival of the Juireans.”

“That’s not true!” Adam cried out, standing again. “We know for a fact that the Klin sent their fleet to Earth months ago.”

“I’m afraid that is not true, Mr. Cain,” the Klin said. “Your information appears to be tainted, or worse, deliberately falsified. Also, our scans indicate that you arrived in a Juirean battlecruiser. How do you explain that?”

“We took over the ship off Zylim-4. You know this, as well as I do.” Adam’s face was a portrait of rage as he stared at the Klin.

“And where is this massive warship now?”

Adam hesitated. He did not want to compromise Kaylor and Jym, but he had no choice. “It’s on the Moon. We didn’t want to shock people with a huge starship going into orbit around the planet.”

“According to your report, you expect the people here to believe that a small group of thirty-five untrained Humans—yourself excluded—managed to commandeer a fleet vessel the size of a battlecruiser from the Juireans? Then you piloted said craft over three thousand light-years to Earth, while—also according to your report—engaged in a major battle against the Juireans where five of their comparably-sized craft were destroyed.”

“With the help of some suicidal Klin and 2G’s,” Adam added.

“And all the while you came through unscathed?” said the Klin, finishing his statement. “I find your story—” the Klin paused as if searching for the right word, “implausible, to say the least. Whether your collusion with the Juireans is inadvertent or intentional is irrelevant. The Juireans have followed you here, and there is nothing we Klin can do to prevent the coming disaster to your planet and to your people.”

“The Klin are here! They’re out in space somewhere, just waiting. You have to believe me,” Adam said, looking around the table.

“If so, then why would we allow a Juirean battlecruiser to enter your system unmolested? That one ship could wreck incredible havoc on your planet.”

“It’s because you want this war to happen! It’s been your plan all along.”

The Klin smiled, showing a full set of teeth; he’d obviously been around Humans long enough to adapt to many of their mannerisms. “And why would we do that, Mr. Cain? We have been on your planet for many years, helping your race with advances in science and technology, as well as preparing to defend your race against the Juireans—at a future date. It has been your reckless—possibly traitorous—actions that have put us all in jeopardy.”

Adam’s heart was beating so hard that he felt as if his chest was about to explode. His face was red and his eyes wild with anger. He scanned the faces around the table. Almost to the man, they stared at him with unabashed hatred and disgust.

“Everything Adam is saying is true!” Sherri cried out. “We didn’t lead the Juireans here. Why do you believe this alien over us?”

“Because this alien has provided an invaluable service to this planet, including the offer of defending us against the Juirean threat,” the SecDef began, “while all you and your cohorts have apparently done is prematurely led this danger to our very doorstep.”

“The Klin do have forces here—they can stop the Juireans if they want to,” Sherri countered, desperation in her voice.

“Unfortunately, Ms. Valentine, that is simply not the case,” the Klin said. “We have fewer than twenty ships in the entire system and many of them are not warcraft. Our scouts have indicated that the Juireans are coming with a fleet of over five hundred warships, plus hundreds of other support vessels. We are no match for them.”

“What are we to do?” Phyllis Conrad pleaded to the Klin.

“Madam Secretary, all I can say is that we are hastening our fleet to the region, but we will not be able to stop the initial attack. With the weapons the Juireans possess, your defenses will be inadequate. The Juireans will be coming to annihilate your race. Since your military forces will be of no threat to them, they will instead concentrate first on your major population centers, as well as your more obvious military installations. As they did to my race so many thousands of years ago, their goal will be to kill as many of your kind as possible.”

“Should we evacuate the cities? Will that spare a large part of our population and give your forces enough time to get here?”

“We estimate the Juireans will be arriving within six days.”

There was an explosion of voices once more throughout the room; some people even rose from their seats and ran for the doors.

“Secure all exits!” St. Claire ordered. The MP’s, with Beretta M9’s drawn, blocked the doors.

“We have to warn the people!” one of the men at the door called back to St. Claire.

“That would only cause more panic. And we cannot evacuate all the major population centers in six days. Where would they go?”

“If I may,” the Klin said, raising his voice through the microphone to get everyone’s attention. “I would suggest you secure your leaders, scientists and select businesspeople. Just as in the case of the Juirean attack upon Klinmon, my homeworld, they will not be able to kill all of you with their initial strikes. Our forces will arrive eventually. There must be enough leadership left to rebuild your society.”

“This is all bullshit!” Adam said, pointing at the Klin. “We’re being set up!”

“MP’s! Remove these three and lock them away!” St. Claire ordered. He stood, pointing at Adam. “You, Mr. Cain—as well as Ms. Valentine and Mr. Tarazi—are the most despicable creatures of them all. This is your planet and your people that you are destroying.”

“We didn’t do it!” The MP’s rushed forward; Adam tried to fight back, but four of them managed to grab his arms and press him down against the table. His arms were forced behind him, and handcuffs placed on his wrists. Sherri and Riyad stood silently, as three more MP’s leveled their weapons at them. They didn’t resist as they were handcuffed as well. Then they were hustled from the chamber.

Chapter 13

Once they were gone, the Secretary of State, Jonas Lofton, raised his voice above the commotion. “We must try to negotiate with the Juireans!”

The statement brought an almost immediate quieting to the room. He continued. “We must send a delegation to meet with the Juireans before they attack, to tell them that we are not a threat.” There were dozens of nods throughout the room.

Matthew St. Claire turned to the Klin Ambassador. “Will that work? Will the Juireans speak with us?”

Every eye was on the pale alien as he cocked his head in thought. “It may, but there are no guarantees. It’s impossible to tell what damage Mr. Cain and his comrades have done to Juirean-Human relations, even if they aren’t working actively with them. I will make arrangements for a vessel to take a delegation into space.”

“Should you accompany us as well? After all, your kind has much more experience dealing with the Juireans.”

“That would not be advisable. The Juireans have an instinctive fear of us. If they knew how actively our two races have been interacting, they may not trust your intentions for peace.”

“Yet the delegation will be in a Klin spaceship?” said General Daniels. “How will that look?”

“We have spaceships which the Juireans have never seen. They will not be able to identify the configuration.”

“Then it’s decided,” Secretary St. Claire announced to the room, a tense enthusiasm spreading among the occupants. “We will appoint a peace delegation to meet with the Juireans. With the help of our Klin allies, we will determine the best location for this meeting, somewhere far enough from Earth so the Juireans will have time to call off their attack. I believe the delegation should be comprised of the Secretary of State, a senior military official, the national science advisor, and of course, I volunteer to be part of the delegation as well. Jonas, are you okay with this?”

The Secretary of State looked at St. Claire. He was pale and sweating slightly. He said nothing but nodded feebly.

St. Claire looked down the table at Jerrod Llewellyn, the President’s science advisor. “I assume you have no problem with going?”

“I believe I am the only one in this room who has had the privilege of traveling aboard a Klin spaceship. I would welcome the opportunity again.” Even though his words sounded enthusiastic, his voice still trembled when he spoke. This would not be a pleasure cruise.

“Good. I’ll let General Daniels appoint the military delegate; I do not believe he should go—”

“Mr. Secretary! You couldn’t keep me off that ship with an army of your own!”

“But if our efforts are not successful, you’ll be needed here.”

“I have dozens of competent replacements, Matt. Besides, if we fail, there’s not much our military can do against the Juireans, according to Ambassador Lumonsee. I need to go where I can do the most good.”

“Very well, Damien. Let’s get going. Thanks to Mr. Cain, we don’t have much time.”

Chapter 14

Adam was surprised to learn that there was a fairly decent-size jail facility within the Pentagon, but since the building was so huge, he had no idea where it was or how they got there. All he knew was that once again he, Sherri and Riyad were in a cell together for something they didn’t do.

“That didn’t go exactly as planned, did it?” Riyad commented with a wry smile. He was sitting on one of the two benches in the cell.

“We’ve been played…and for how long, I don’t know,” was Adam’s angry comeback.

“That doesn’t change the fact that no one believes us, and now we’re the bad guys,” Sherri said, throwing in her two cents as she sat down on the other bench, her eyes weeping from both fear and anger.

For his part, Adam was too angry to sit, so he paced the center of the cell like a restless tiger. “And all I wanted to do was get home to my family.”

After about ten minutes, Sherri broke the awkward silence. “Do you think they’ll let us make a phone call? I really want to let my parents know that I’m okay.”

“You can forget about that,” Adam said a little too harshly. “There’s no way the military will let us talk to anyone outside the circle of those who already know about us. They can’t risk us spilling the beans about the coming attack—”

The sobering thought hit all three of them at the same time: The Earth is about to be attacked…and the Klin weren’t going to do anything to stop it.

“Why would they want the Earth to suffer so much? It seems like a lot of effort just to kill off a bunch of primitive Humans,” Sherri asked.

Adam turned from the small slit of a window in the cell’s door he was looking through and leaned against the door. “They won’t let us be completely destroyed. They’re probably just lurking out there right now, waiting for us to get our noses bloodied enough so that when they do swoop in and save us, the whole planet will be kissing their boots.”

“In the meantime, millions of people will die—” Sherri had her comment cut short by a sudden knock on the cell door. Adam jumped into the room, startled. Then a bolt slid away and the door opened.

Lt. Andy Tobias stepped in. Adam approached him quickly. “LT, you have to believe me, we didn’t lead the Juireans here!”

Two armed guards stood at the door, their eyes locked on Adam, watching his every move. Tobias turned to the guards. “It’s all right. I just need a minute with them before we go,” he said, closing the door. He turned to Adam.

“I don’t know what kind of fucking bullshit you’ve got yourself into, Cain, but you sure have stirred up a hornet’s nest! When I got the call this afternoon that you had been found alive, I was hootin’ and hollerin’ all over the place. One of my men was comin’ home! It’s bad enough when we lose a SEAL, but when we can’t bring home the body, that’s way worse. And then I come to find out you’ve been out gallivanting around the galaxy all this time and consorting with all kinds of nasty alien critters. What am I to make of this?”

“Sir?”

Tobias looked at the other two people in the cell and said, “They’re moving y’all to a holding facility at Little Creek. The other people who were on the spacecraft are headin’ there, too. You’re to stay there until the government can figure out what to do with you. I’m to accompany you and make sure you don’t do nuthin’ stupid.”

“But, sir, we came here to warn people of the Juirean attack, and instead we’re being blamed for it.”

“I’m sure everyone in that room is just acting out of fear. Once they calm down, I’m sure they’ll take a second look at your testimony. Besides, I can’t blame ’em. I almost lost my load when I saw that alien guy. This may be old news to you, but I was freakin’ the frig out.”

“Will I be able to call my folks?” Sherri asked.

“’Fraid not, Ms. Valentine…maybe later.”

“If there will be a later,” Riyad said, half under his breath.

“Be that as it may, we’re leavin’ here in a few minutes and taking a helo all the way to HR—”

“Where?” Sherri asked.

“Sorry, ma’am—Hampton Roads. I was able to convince them that SEALs should watch over SEALs, and they agreed. So…up! Let’s go—” Tobias grabbed Adam by the arm and squeezed it tight. “And chill out, mister. Don’t try nuthin’, or I will have to put you down.”

The lieutenant’s gray eyes burned unflinchingly into Adam’s. He had known Tobias for over a year before his abduction, and he knew that the lieutenant wasn’t someone you wanted to tangle with. He was the kind of man who made other SEALs nervous. Adam nodded, and then he led the parade out of the cell, and to the waiting contingent of guards outside.

They boarded a CH-47 Chinook helicopter for the ride down to Hampton Roads, Virginia and the Little Creek Naval Amphib Base. During the two-and-a-half-hour trip, Adam couldn’t help but think of Maria and Cassie, and how he would be only seven short miles from them, and yet his family wouldn’t know he was there.

But worse than that, he feared for their safety. Even though he had heard the Klin speak about how the Juireans would concentrate on the largest population centers first—as they attempted to kill as many Humans as possible—he couldn’t convince himself that the Juireans would skip over Hampton Roads in their initial salvos. The area hosted the largest concentration of military forces anywhere in the country. If Adam’s assessment of the Klin was correct, they would eventually stop the Juirean attack before the entire planet was destroyed. His only hope was that his wife and child would be spared long enough for the Klin to act.

Yet in light of his other assumptions of late, Adam wasn’t feeling too confident in his assessment. And now here he was, being transported to military ground-zero for the United States, a prime target if ever there was one. As he sat in the incredibly noisy helicopter, staring out the window at the verdant Virginia landscape whizzing by far below, he couldn’t believe that all his troubles were only about a week away from coming to a sad and tragic end.

Adam felt a rush of emotions as the helicopter swept in low over the Chesapeake Bay and slowed for a landing in a field at the east side of the naval base. Once down, they were hustled into a waiting gray van and driven to a non-descript building on the base at the corner of 5th Street and Hewitt Road.

Throughout the transfer, the guards maintained a hawkish watch on the three prisoners, even though Adam had no idea what actual crime they were being accused of for the government to detain them this way. However, in this charged atmosphere he was sure no one would be looking out for their civil rights once the Juirean attack began.

Inside the building were dozens of additional guards, and Adam could tell the building was a warehouse that had been quickly modified to house the thirty-two men from the shuttle—and now Sherri, Riyad and Adam. In a large separate room, cots had been moved in, as well as a long table with food and drink. There was even a flat-screen TV to one side of the room, where nearly all of the men had gathered to watch Fox News. They were so starved for information about their homeworld that they sat with rapt attention, staring at the screen and listening as a cute woman with impossibly white teeth droned on about a labor strike happening somewhere in Detroit.

No one noticed Adam and the other two as they were escorted beyond the main room and placed at the back of the building in two, more secure rooms. Sherri was given a private room, while Adam and Riyad had to share accommodations. After telling them they would need permission—as well as escorts—to go to the head, the guards shut and locked the doors and took up positions outside the rooms.

It was obvious to Adam that the other men in the facility were not considered such high security risks as the three of them. Adam didn’t mind not being housed with the others. He was glad he didn’t have to explain to them how bleak the future looked, not only for them, but for the entire planet.

As with so many things that had happened to him over the past year, his joyous and triumphant homecoming had suddenly disintegrated into a nightmare of Titanic proportion.

Chapter 15

Lieutenant Andy Tobias left the building and had a driver take him the eight miles to the Training Support Center, at the Dam Neck Naval Base. This was the HQ for the Naval Special Warfare Development Group, or DEVGRU. Although Tobias had been in the military for over seven years, he still hated the acronyms, so he often referred to his unit simply as ST6—SEAL Team Six.

As he entered the old wood building which housed one of the planet’s most elite military units, he was surprised to see the anteroom filled with over twenty members of his Team, and all looking anxiously at him. He knew instantly that the word of Cain’s return had spread throughout the platoon, and probably beyond. The SEALs were an extremely tight-knit group, and news of a fallen comrade returning from the dead was a major event—even if they weren’t supposed to know about it. Tobias had to maintain a high level of security regarding Cain and his reappearance, but there would be no use denying it to this bunch. They were all too intelligent to fall for anything but the truth.

“It’s true,” he said, wending his way through the assembled bodies. “Cain is alive and well.”

“Where’s he been?” a voice called out from the crowd.

“That’s classified for the time being.”

Tobias approached a man sitting on a chair near the first cubicle in the room. His head hung low, posture showing defeat. His name was Gill Norris, otherwise known as Peanut, a term of affection for the good ol’ boy from Georgia. Tobias put his hand on the man’s shoulder. When Norris looked up, there were tears in his eyes.

“He’s safe, Mister Norris. And he’s home.”

Norris nodded, and pressed his lips tightly together, fighting hard to hold back the tears. After all, SEALs didn’t cry…not usually.

Peanut had been with Adam during the raid in Afghanistan, and for over a year, blamed himself for Adam’s disappearance—even though no one else in the unit felt the same.

He and Adam were buddies, and it had been his responsibility to keep an eye on him while in the field. One moment Adam was on his six—the next Norris’ night vision had been destroyed by a brilliant flash of light from behind. When his vision cleared, Adam was gone.

The four others in the squad called off the raid and joined in the search, but to no avail. Eventually, a helo arrived to hustle them out of the area. Whatever the light was, it had surely alerted the Taliban. Staying any longer would have only endangered more lives.

“What the hell’s going on, LT?” one of the other men asked. “I feel there’s something coming down, and we’re not part of it.”

Tobias surveyed the young and anxious faces looking back at him. Even though they were young—only a couple over twenty-five—these were the best of the best; hard-charging, gung-ho fighting men who would never shrink from a fight. Tobias knew he couldn’t tell them even a tenth of what he knew. Unfortunately, they would learn soon enough. When the aliens arrived.

Tobias stayed in the massive war room after Cain and the other two had been removed, so he knew of the coming attack, as well as the desperate attempt to negotiate with the aliens. He’d also been in the military long enough to know that diplomacy usually failed—at least in the long run. Even though hands may be shaken—or maybe tentacles in this case—eventually the true nature and intentions of the opposing parties would surface. That’s when the military would be called in to settle things once and for all.

“There’s nothing I can really tell y’all at this time. Just stay loose. Hopefully, Cain will be back in the unit in about a week. For now, you’re all dismissed for forty-eight hours. Go home and chill. Oh, and someone take Peanut out and get him laid!”

Tobias left the room and proceeded farther into the building. The CO had to know what he knew. Contingency plans had to be made.

Chapter 16

Riyad Tarazi had the unique ability to make himself at home just about anywhere he went, and their new prison was no exception. He lay on a cot, his hands clasped behind his head with a pillow stuffed up against the wall, absently watching the WAVY-TV 10 News on the flat screen TV mounted on the wall. Adam, for his part, still paced the floor.

Finally, Riyad looked over at his roommate and smiled. “I supposed you wish you were back among the aliens now, where all your superman-like abilities could be utilized? They’re not of much use on a planet full of supermen.”

“I don’t know how you can stay so calm. There’s a whole lot of shit about to come down, and we’re being blamed for it.”

“True, but what can we do about it? You told them what we know, and your people had us locked away. Pretty soon they’ll learn that the Klin are not going to let anything, or anyone, get in the way of their plans. You and I are only tiny cogs in their overall scheme. And at the moment, we just happen to be convenient scapegoats. Besides, even if we had convinced the men in that room that the Klin were manipulating both the Juireans and us into a war, what could they do? We are defenseless against the Juireans. We need the Klin at this point.”

“The Klin could stop the destruction.”

“That would not serve their purpose. They need us to be hurt, really hurt, so our hatred will carry us forward into this coming war.”

“I realize that, Riyad. It just pisses me off that there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

“Then accept it, my friend. After all, we probably won’t be alive this time next week. What’s going to happen is going to happen, with or without us.”

Adam stopped his pacing and stared hard at Riyad. “You don’t have any family left, do you?”

The smile suddenly vanished from Riyad’s face, and his dark eyes grew even darker. “That may be true, but I’m simply being more pragmatic. I will be seeking peace with my god in the time I have left. I suggest you do the same.”

“I just might do that, if I knew my wife and child would be safe after I’m gone. They’re only seven miles from here. If the Juireans decide to take out the military bases in the area, this whole region will be cinders when they’re through. And Maria and Cassie won’t even know what hit them.”

“Count that as a blessing, my friend. It’s much worse when you see the bullet heading straight for your eye.”

Adam sat down heavily on the other cot. He was exhausted. Nothing he had done or said since setting foot back on Earth had made a difference. Riyad was right. What’s going to happen will happen, and there was nothing he could do to change it. He lay back on the cot and closed his eyes, while Riyad went back to watching the news.

Everyone in the world went about their business that day, living their lives as if nothing was about to change. Everyone except for the President of the United States. He knew better.

Daniel ‘Danny’ Ryan had come into the Office of the Presidency only eight months earlier. His election had been a landslide, in part because of the universal acknowledgement that the previous administration was a complete and utter failure, but also because of his gutsy selection of Senator Emilio Adame as his running mate. The Latino senator from South Florida, had excited an often-overlooked segment of the U.S. population, and they rewarded Ryan with 78% of their vote.

Ryan had easily carried both strong Republican and Independent majorities and ended with a three-hundred thirty-two Electoral College tally at the end of election night. The victory had been decisive, his mandate genuine.

With enthusiasm—as well as strong congressional majorities in both houses—President Ryan set about doing his best to set the country back on the path to pride and prosperity. Already he had passed several strong, business-friendly bills that had set a new tone for Washington and unemployment had recently dipped under four percent for the first time in six years.

Things were looking up for the country and for their new and exciting governing team of Ryan and Adame. Indeed, the future for America was looking very bright.

And then Adam Cain returned to the planet.

The President sat at the Resolute Desk, his head in his hands, slowly rocking back and forth. The other four men in the Oval Office sat silent and awkwardly in chairs placed in front of the desk, waiting for the President to regain his composure. The Secretary of State had just finished informing him of the meeting held a few hours earlier in the depths of the Pentagon. Now the President was digesting the most shocking information any President had ever received.

Ryan could vividly remember the day, a little over eight months before, when the Secretary of Homeland Security—along with the President’s National Science Advisor, Jerrod Llewellyn—had informed him of the existence of extraterrestrial beings, and that the government had been secretly working with them for many years already. It seemed funny now, but at the time Ryan’s first reaction had been that of disbelief—not in the existence of aliens—but that the prior administration had been able to keep it a secret.

He couldn’t believe they had that much discipline. That was unless they had not been informed. At the time, Ryan had snickered at the thought. Did even his own Homeland Security chief doubt that the president and his staff could be trusted with knowledge this important? If that had been the case, Ryan figured there was a treasonable offense in there somewhere, but he wasn’t about to question their reasoning, not now.

Yes, the shocking revelation had been disclosed to President Danny Ryan on the day of his inauguration, and he had been surprisingly calm about the whole affair. As an avid fan of science fiction—as well as a strong supporter of scientific research of all stripes—Ryan had always believed in the existence of extraterrestrial life. He just had no idea he would live long enough to have it confirmed. But knowledge had gone beyond simple confirmation; Ryan had actually met with the Klin Ambassador on three separate occasions, finding the alien to be a polite and professional gentle- ‘being.’

Yet at the moment, President Ryan was experiencing emotions quite different from the earlier awe and wonderment concerning alien life in the universe.

The President raised his head, his gaze taking in the other men in the room. Gathering his thoughts, he began, “So what have the Klin been doing all these years, if not to provide us with the means to defend ourselves against these other aliens—the Juireans?”

Jerrod Llewellyn, the National Science Advisor, was a Caltech alumnus, and had worked at JPL for a dozen years before entering the political side of science lobbying. He met Danny Ryan eight years before, and the future president had been immediately drawn to the energetic and brainy scientist. Recently, the two had begun to share many an evening together in the East Wing of the White House, watching special preview copies of some of the latest science fiction blockbusters, of which a whole new set was about to hit the theaters. Llewellyn was also quick to point out the many fallacies in their plots and special effects. Still, Ryan enjoyed Llewellyn’s company—up until this very moment.

“The Klin have told us all along that they did not come here to just hand over advanced technology to us.” Llewellyn began. “They’re here more to guide us in the right directions. We have made great strides in electronics and miniaturization, along with battery technology, thanks to them. The new hybrid cars are a good example.”

“Cut the bullshit, Jerrod,” the President said. “The Klin have known about the Juireans for thousands of years. They knew there was a possibility of an attack. I read the report.”

The report he was referring to was the accompanying documentation he’d received on January 20th of that year, regarding the existence of alien life. It had been prepared by the Klin and went into considerable detail describing all the various players in the galactic game of chess, as well as the potential role the Human race could play. The report also spoke of the uniqueness of Humans as compared to the other intelligent races in the galaxy, of which he’d learned there were literally thousands—including the Juireans and their empire called The Expansion.

Also in the report, Ryan learned the truth about what happened to the Klin at the hands of the Juireans. It went on to extrapolate what the Juireans might do to the Humans—if they learned of their existence. It was not a pretty picture. The Juireans were a jealous and vengeful race, bent on eradicating any species they felt could be a threat to them.

The Klin report had strongly recommended that the Humans keep their existence a secret for as long as possible, which was one of the reasons the Klin were reluctant to give Earth star travel technology, not unless the Humans worked it out on their own. However, the report did highlight that at the normal rate of growth for the Expansion, the Juireans probably wouldn’t reach the planet for several hundred years.

Apparently the Klin estimate had been way off.

“Mr. President, the Klin could not have anticipated the damage Adam Cain has done to their timetable. They had no reason to believe that defense of the planet would become a priority.”

“Is there any possibility their forces can get here in time to prevent the attack?” His question came across more as a desperate plea, rather than a legitimate inquiry.

“They are very apologetic but equally adamant in saying no. The Earth will suffer an attack by the Juireans.”

The mood in the room dropped to a new low.

“Unless our diplomatic mission is successful, Mr. President.” Matthew St. Claire leaned forward in the chair, resting his arms on the edge of the President’s desk. “I just can’t believe a civilized race such as the Juireans would want to exterminate a species with which they’ve had no real contact.”

“According to the Klin, the Juireans are not that civilized,” said the National Science Advisor. “And they have had contact with Humans. Unfortunately, it was with Adam Cain.”

St. Claire looked over at him. “The Klin have a grudge against the Juireans,” he said, ignoring Llewellyn’s comment about Adam. “They may not be saints, but they do control an empire of several thousand worlds. And they didn’t exterminate all those races in order to control them.”

“Yes,” Ryan said, nodding. “Your mission must succeed. Matt, do everything possible to make sure it does. And I mean everything.”

“Can you clarify that, Mister President?”

Ryan hesitated for a moment, locking his gaze on General Daniels. “You know what I mean. If the only way to prevent this attack is our unconditional surrender, then you have to take it.”

“Mr. President!” General Daniels spoke up.

“I know, Damien. This goes against every tenet of the military. But I’d rather see the Human race survive as slaves than see it destroyed completely and forever.”

“But the Klin may still get here in time to save some of us,” the Secretary of State pointed out.

“And if they do, then maybe they can liberate us from the Juireans at that time…if it comes down to that. What’s important now is to stop the attack from ever happening in the first place. Again, gentlemen, you must do what you have to so the Human race can survive.”

The room was quiet for a long, solemn moment, until the President spoke again. “So the Klin will arrange for you to meet the Juirean fleet.” It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes, they will provide a ship and a crew,” said the Secretary of State. “They’ve already pinpointed a location near the outer boundary of the solar system for us to wait. We’ll be broadcasting a continuous signal asking for a truce. There is no guarantee the Juireans will honor it, but the broadcast will be in the Juirean language. Hopefully, they will be curious enough to stop.”

“Of course, God willing,” said the President. He rose from his seat and moved around the desk. The first man he came to was Matt St. Claire. The SecDef reached out his hand to the President, yet to his surprise, Ryan hugged him instead. He then hugged the other three in turn.

“Good luck, gentlemen. I know it sounds corny, but the hopes of the entire Human race go with you.”

Chapter 17

Captain Nathaniel Allen had been with the SEALs since the mid-nineties. He was also a Mustang, starting out enlisted before transferring to the officer corps through OCS in 2002. As such, he related well with all the men under his command, even if he demanded nothing but perfection out of each and every one of them.

Nate Allen was also as tough as they came. He was an unquestioned patriot, a fitness expert, and a man with an IQ rumored to be in the high 150’s. His name had already been published for advancement, and he was currently awaiting Senate approval before putting on his star. Soon he would be Rear Admiral (Lower) Nathaniel Allen, United States Navy.

Lt. Andy Tobias watched the distinctive vein on the captain’s left temple pulse rhythmically, literally mirroring the senior officer’s heartbeat. All the men in the command had come to recognize the vein as a warning signal when the CO was about to lose his temper—which was often. Tobias had come to accept the CO’s outbursts as simply training exercises. SEALs were expected to operate under the most stressful of situations, and what was more stressful than being dressed down by a superior officer? But this was no training exercise.

“This is some god-awful bullshit, Andy,” the CO said after taking nearly a minute to digest the information Tobias had just relayed to him. ‘Do you believe Cain?”

“He has no reason to lie. He didn’t ask to be beamed up to an alien spaceship, or whatever happened to him in Afghanistan. And the others around him seem just as sincere.”

“So…according to him, these aliens—the Juireans—are going to attack, and then these other aliens—the Klin—will stop them before we’re completely wiped out? Is that about right?”

“Yes, sir.” Tobias said. “And I have to say, sir, you’re taking this news about the existence of aliens pretty calmly.”

“I watch the movies, Andy, and I never believed we were unique anyway. But now we’re caught up in some goddamn power struggle, and about to be sacrificed like pawns in a chess game.”

“I hope Adam is right about the Klin stopping the attack.”

“And if he is, we have to be ready.”

“What do you mean?”

Allen leaned forward and picked up a pencil off his desk. He always had a yellow legal pad nearby which he would quickly sketch out strategies, maps, or just doodles. It helped him organize his thoughts. He began to scribble on the pad. “We have to assure that our men survive the initial attack,” he began. “You say these aliens—the Klin—believe the attack will be concentrated on population centers, and more-than-likely, military installations, airstrips and the like. Things they can easily see from space.”

“That’s right.”

“What we need to be prepared if diplomacy fails.” Tobias knew Allen shared his same belief about the effectiveness of negotiations. “Andy, I want you to contact all the other CO’s of the Teams and get their men on standby. If the notice comes, I want as many of them as possible to beat feet for the nearest desert, mountain, wilderness or even ocean, and then lay low until after the attack. Arrange for a recall signal and rendezvous points. Also, arrange for supplies to be transported out of the population areas and to these points.” He was scribbling on the pad, drawing lines and circles helter-skelter on the page.

“Aye, aye, Captain. And what about Cain?”

While devising the first plan, Allen’s disciplined mind had also been formulating a second. “After you contact the CO’s, I have another mission for you and your Team. In the meantime, I will be heading to D.C. I want to be front and center when these negotiations start. Be ready for my signal…go or no-go.”

After that, he detailed the special mission he had for Tobias and his men.

Chapter 18

If it weren’t for the dire seriousness of the situation, Matt St. Claire would have been jumping for joy at the prospect of going aboard an alien flying saucer. Like most American males, he had spent a lot of his boyhood days dreaming of being an astronaut or fighting aliens like Luke Skywalker. And even when the practicalities of life and talent led him to his current occupation, he still enjoyed all the science programs he managed to catch. He was also an avid fan of blockbuster science fiction movies, as well as the sci/fi ebooks he was constantly downloading into his Kindle Fire.

But now he sat in what was being referred to as the common room aboard an actual alien spaceship, accompanied by his three Human companions, along with a short gray creature with large black eyes, smelling like a wet-dog and serving them drinks.

Even though St. Claire had grown accustomed to being around aliens, it had only been the Klin that he had direct experience with. The Klin were very human–like in their appearance. These other things—the Jakreans they were called—were entirely different. While their image was probably the most-common depiction of aliens in Human culture, seeing one in the flesh was still a creepy experience. St. Claire was having a hard time taking his eyes off the creature.

The delegation had boarded the spacecraft in an isolated section of the base commonly referred to as Area 51. They had flown there aboard a military 757 and been hustled aboard the spacecraft almost immediately.

The Klin Ambassador was there initially to welcome them and to tell them that the Juirean forces were now only a day away. The Jakrean crew would take them to a position located just outside the Kuiper Belt, approximately one light-year from Earth. There would be a second ship on station to monitor the communications—if any—between the Juireans and the Humans and relay the information back to Earth. Since traditional transmissions would not allow for the real-time display of information, this second ship would be linked to the Klin communication relays so that the President—along with all the other leaders of the world brought into the loop—would know instantly whether the negotiations had succeeded or not.

Then the Klin Ambassador departed the ship.

Once in space, the Human delegation was escorted to the pilothouse, where they marveled at the incredible views of faster-than-light space travel. The ship blazed through the solar system, taking a scenic route past Mars, Jupiter and Uranus. Saturn and Neptune were not in position for the tour. But even this temporary distraction did not last long. Soon, the four members of the delegation were sitting solemnly in the common room, lost in their own thoughts, waiting for contact with the Juireans.

Matthew St. Claire rubbed the spot behind his right ear where the translation device had been implanted. Even though he had been aware of the aliens for several months, he was just now realizing how far advanced their technology was…and what little knowledge they had actually shared with the Humans. The President had been right—what had they been providing to us all these years? Tokens, trivial items? Now he sat in an interstellar spacecraft…and he had absolutely no idea how it worked.

Soon they reached the point outside the solar system from which the Klin reasoned the Juireans would be approaching. The second ship was far away, deeper into the system. The Klin were aboard that ship; all St. Claire had with him were the three other Humans and a handful of short, hairless, gray-skinned creatures with huge, oval-shaped eyes. And approaching them was a force of five hundred powerful spaceships, capable of destroying an entire planet.

If ever a man felt alone and utterly helpless, it was Matthew St. Claire at the moment the alarm sounded, signifying that the Juirean fleet had arrived….

Juireans—for the most part—are very patient beings. They’re calm and methodical in their movements, and this trait carries over into their tactics and strategies. But after four months aboard the UN-444 and heading for a conflict of which he had no sure feeling as to the outcome, Senior Overlord Yan’wal Ra Melk was ready for some action.

His original plan called for his fleet to receive advanced intelligence from Guard Commander Lod-fin as to the defensives and capabilities of the Humans. Yet no contact had been made with the commander in over a month-and-a-half. His disappearance only added to Yan’wal’s trepidation. It was obvious he encountered some obstacle he was ill-prepared to overcome, and to Yan’wal, that only meant one thing. Lod-fin had confronted the Humans.

Because of the situation with Lod-fin, the Overlord proceeded into the Far Arm with extreme caution. He had lost contact with the small probing fleet only one thousand light-years into the Arm, which meant the Humans may have a presence that spread much farther from their homeworld than first anticipated. So for several weeks, his entire fleet had been on high alert, not knowing when the first contact would be made. This heightened state of readiness had placed additional strain on all his personnel, including himself.

But no contact had been made, and now they were fast approaching the system where the planet Earth was located. And they were going in completely blind.

The Overlord was on the bridge of the UN-444, conversing with Overlord Giodol and Fleet Strategist Canel when the advance ships first received the message. It was a simple carrier wave transmission, and his ships were nearly upon the transmission source before they had a chance to hear it.

Canel ordered the center of the fleet to stop their approach, while the flanks were to continue and encircle the signal’s source. The senior personnel adjourned to the communication center to hear the message.

“The message is being broadcast in Juirean,” Senior Counselor Haden observed. He was Yan’wal’s personal counselor and had been with him for over twenty years. He was the most-trusted advisor the Overlord had in the room.

“Let us hear it,” Yan’wal commanded, and soon a brassy voice sounded over the speakers.

“To the approaching Juirean forces, we are representatives of the planet Earth. We have come out to greet you and to request a meeting between our two races so that we may resolve any issues between us. We intend you no harm. Whatever you have come to believe regarding our race and our intentions toward the Juirean Expansion are false. I repeat: They are false. All we ask is for a meeting before you engage in a course of action from which there is no turning back. Please respond.”

“The message is on a loop,” Haden said.

“It could be a trap, my Lord,” Strategist Canel said. “The fact that they knew of our coming and—” he looked down at the data that was streaming across the screen before him, “the source of the link is a spaceship of very advanced design.”

“Explain,” Yan’wal commanded.

Canel studied the data for a moment longer before responding. “The energy signature of the ship is near perfect. There are harmonic vibrations like I have never seen before. For a ship of such advance design to be communicating through such a primitive method is very strange, my Lord.”

“They could be trying to deceive us regarding the level of their technology,” said Giodol. “And they may be underestimating our own level of scanner technology, allowing us to see through their ruse.”

“That may be so. But as of now, we have no reliable intelligence as to their capabilities. Meeting with these creatures might provide insight. Do you see any danger to the fleet from our meeting with them, Canel?”

“None at this time. There appears to be only one ship. I would suggest we bring this delegation aboard the UN-444—”

“No,” said Yan’wal firmly. “Send a delegation comprised of Fleet Commander Siegor and Counselor Haden aboard their ship. We must be able to discern all we can of the ships’ abilities and weaponry. We would learn nothing by bringing them aboard here.”

“Very wise decision, my Lord,” Canel replied.

Yan’wal turned to Giodol. “Siegor has interrogated Humans before. I want his assessment as to their state of mind in light of our impending attack.”

“I will summon the Fleet Commander.” Giodol turned to Canel. “Send a response to the link…and prepare a shuttle.”

Chapter 19

Secretary of State Jonas Lofton was ashamed of himself. After thirty-two years in government service—and having served in nearly every capacity—he should have had been better prepared for his current assignment. Yes, these were aliens he was supposed to negotiate with, but they were still intelligent beings with wants, needs and desires. And negotiation was what Jonas Lofton did best. At least that was the theory.

But now all he felt was a sickening knot in his stomach, along with a mouth so dry he could hardly form a coherent sentence. He took another drink of water, hoping it would help, but all it did was make his stomach growl, adding another level to his discomfort.

The simple message had been received less than fifteen minutes before, and already a sleek, white shuttle was nearing their ship and maneuvering toward the loading bay under the disk-shaped spacecraft. In mere minutes, Lofton would be face-to-face with another alien species, and one intent on killing every man, woman and child on the Earth. And the scariest part of it…the Juireans were fully capable of doing so.

Soon Jonas Lofton—along with Matt St. Claire, Jerrod Llewellyn and that Neanderthal, General Daniels—would be opening the most important diplomatic negotiations in the history of mankind.

As Siegor and Haden stepped out of the shuttlecraft, they were surprised to find that the Human delegation was not there to greet them. Instead, there were just a couple of filthy Jakreans to escort them to the meeting place.

Offended at first, Siegor took advantage of the situation by slowing his cadence, spending more time studying the makeup and layout of the Human starship. With an official delegation at his elbow, it would have been much harder for him to feel the integrity of the welds, or to peer into the various open rooms they passed on the way to the meeting.

By the time they entered the room where the four Humans waited, Siegor was already feeling anxious. This ship was the most-sophisticated spacecraft he’d ever seen. And if the level of weaponry matched that of the workmanship, then his Juirean brothers may be in for more than they bargained for.

These Humans, for the most part, were heavier and older than the two he’d interrogated aboard his flagship after the battle of Dimloe. As the Juireans entered the room, the four shot to their feet and bared their teeth at them. The Juireans fought to maintain control; after all, these Humans may be of a different breed than the ones he’d met before. Still, if they did not moderate their death-challenge, this meeting may have to end prematurely…and violently.

As with all the Humans he’d seen or met before, these creatures were much shorter than the Juireans, and these did not possess the muscularity that the others enjoyed. Definitely a different breed, Siegor thought. These may be the administrators, and therefore in no need of such physical conditioning.

And then the one with the grayest hair was speaking….

“I am Jonas Lofton,” he said in a voice much higher than Siegor remembered from his prior encounter with the aliens. “I am what’s called the Secretary of State for the country of the United States of America. I am our top negotiator.” He then turned to the others, introducing them by name and title.

Siegor could care less what their names were, but he followed suit, and introduced himself and Counselor Haden. And then Haden spoke up. “You sent a message requesting this meeting. In it you mentioned a misunderstanding. From what we have learned of your kind, there is no misunderstanding. You intend to invade Juirean space at your earliest opportunity. We cannot allow that.”

Matt St. Claire felt the blood drain from his head. We intend to invade? That was just what Adam Cain said was in the message he’d attributed to the Klin—and of which the Klin Ambassador had denied existed. He looked over at Jonas and saw him sweating profusely.

“Pardon me, Secretary Lofton, but I need to ask our guests a question.” Lofton seemed relieved by the interruption.

“Please. Go ahead,” Lofton said, lifting the glass of water that sat on the table and taking another large gulp.

St. Claire took a deep breath, and then looked at the two huge aliens seated across from him. “Pardon me, but we have conflicting information about a message that you may have received regarding our supposed invasion of Juirean space. I can assure you that we sent no such message, and that we have absolutely no intention of engaging in a conflict with your kind.”

“The message was clear, as were the words of the other Humans I have personally encountered prior to this meeting.”

“Can you please indulge me as to the contents of this message?”

The Juirean with the long, green hair—Siegor was his name—looked at him from across the table, a dark-eyed, steely stare that sent a chill down St. Claire’s spine. He hoped the Juireans weren’t proficient at reading Human body language, otherwise they would have believed St. Claire was about to have a heart attack.

“The message spoke of your plans to invade Juirean space, and that your timetable for doing so was three years hence. It clearly mentioned the two most recent conflicts we had with your kind in Sector 17. In addition, I have met with two of your race in person. Of course, they were of a younger variety and possibly of a different breed, but they were very adamant regarding your plans to supplant us as leaders of the Expansion.”

St. Claire couldn’t help but slump down in his chair. Could Cain have been right all along? Or did Cain send the message himself? But to what end? St. Clair had read Cain’s service jacket; he was a 4-0 sailor, a dedicated SEAL, as well as a family man. If he was behind the message, all he would succeed in doing was to get his family killed—along with himself. Yet if the Klin had sent the message….

“Fleet Commander Siegor,” St. Claire began. “I think I can spread some light on this entire affair. I’m sure you’ve heard of a race called the Klin—”

“The Klin! Of course we have. So you are working with them?” Siegor rose from his seat.

“No, Commander. We are not working with them in any capacity to wage war against your kind. In fact, we now have reason to believe that the Klin may have maneuvered both of our races into this potential conflict.”

Siegor sat down. “Continue.”

“The Klin have been on Earth for over eight years, but they have only been helping us with small technological advances in the areas of manufacturing and energy. The Human race is very primitive compared to both the Juireans and the Klin. We do not possess space travel beyond chemical rockets to our nearby Moon. In fact, it was only today that I—and my colleagues here—have ever been aboard a spaceship.”

The Juirean stared at him for several seconds, and then glanced at the other Juirean at the table. The other creature leaned forward. “I am Counselor Haden. I am the personal advisor to Senior Overlord Yan’wal Ra Melk. What do you know of the Klin and their association with the Juirean race?”

“I have read a report. It was prepared several years ago, but it does speak of the time when the Juireans attacked the Klin homeworld.” St. Claire paused, so he could study the reaction on the faces of the Juireans. There was none.

“That is correct. The Klin committed a grave injustice on the Juirean race. We were justified in our actions.”

“I am not here to judge,” St. Claire quickly said. “All I’m trying to convey is that the Klin may have a motive for wanting our two races to war. But I must assure you both, the Humans of Earth mean you no harm or ill will whatsoever. There is no reason for you to attack. We are not a threat.”

“And what of this ship?” the Juirean named Siegor asked. “The sophistication of its design is beyond even what we can manage.”

“It is a Klin ship. They provided it to us for our meeting today.”

The Juireans looked at each other, their eyes growing wide. “The Klin know of this meeting? Did they encourage it?” Haden asked.

“Yes they did.”

“Oh shit!” General Daniels said for the first time.

“What’s wrong?” Llewellyn asked, turning to face the general.

Daniels looked at the scientist with a wry expression. “Why would the Klin set up this whole war scenario, just to turn around and help us diffuse the situation?”

Just then, the occupants of the room heard a low, steady hum growing louder throughout the ship. Then the spacecraft suddenly jerked sideways slightly, once…then twice.

“What was that?” Lofton asked.

“Those are bolt shots.” said Siegor, rising from his seat.

“Are we being fired upon?”

“No. This ship is doing the firing.”

Chapter 20

“My Lord!” a tech called out from the left side of the bridge. “The Human ship just released two bolts!”

The Juireans rushed to their screens just in time to see an almost pure white ball of energy easily penetrate through the first diffusion screen of the battlecruiser closest to the Human spaceship. Even though the UN-444 was over five hundred kilometers away, the intensity of the bolts still lit up the bridge through the forward viewport. Immediately after the first bolt, a second one flashed out toward the cruiser. The white-hot ball of plasma easily passed through the hole in the diffusion shield and struck the outer hull of the ship. Milliseconds later, the hull was breached and ignited the atmosphere within. The ship blew outward…just a sudden bright flash, followed by a billion pieces of debris spreading out in all directions.

“Return fire!” Strategist Canel cried out.

Blue-white bolts of energy erupted from no fewer than eight cruisers in the immediate vicinity of the Human ship. Each bolt simultaneously impacted the surface hull; if there had been a diffusion screen, the intensity of the charges was enough to overload it in an instance. The smooth and sleek, disk-shape spaceship simply disintegrated.

From where he stood, Overlord Yan’wal felt the anger well up inside him. He had been tricked, and in the process lost a heavy battlecruiser—as well as two of his most-trusted aides.

“Strategist Canel,” he called out in a voice that could be heard throughout the bridge of the UN-444, “proceed with the attack!”

Chapter 21

Captain Nate Allen was a man of power and prestige and well-known within the halls of the Pentagon. As one of the highest ranking officers in the SEALs, he carried incredible clout. Because of this fact, he had no difficulty being invited to join the other brass in the main war room to watch the progress of the negotiations taking place at the edge of the solar system.

He learned that another Klin ship was on station about three hundred thousand kilometers from the negotiator’s ship, and that they were channeling a running commentary of the negotiations through their special communication relays. The delay from a light-year away was only about two seconds; Klin technology was truly amazing.

But what Allen had been most disappointed to learn was that the actual negotiations were not being broadcast. Instead, an emotionless—and obvious alien voice—was narrating over a static picture of the Klin negotiating ship.

“The Juireans have agreed to the meeting,” the voice announced an hour before. The situation room exploded with cheers. It was a good start. Many of the people in the room were afraid the Klin ship would simply be vaporized as the Juireans streaked by on their way to Earth. Agreeing to a meeting at least gave Humanity a slim chance at salvation.

“The Juirean shuttle is now approaching the ship.”

The image on the wall-sized screen had shown the approaching Juirean shuttlecraft, and how it disappeared inside the bowls of the larger ship. Allen marveled at the clarity of the image, knowing that the other Klin ship taking the video was nearly the same distance as from D.C. to the moon. It showed how primitive Human science and technology was compared to the alien’s.

He silently prayed for the success of the negotiations. The last thing he wanted to do was go up against a foe as advanced as either of these alien species. It would be like a modern soldier with all his gear going up against an ancient Roman soldier. The simple truth: the Roman soldier would be dead before he even knew he was in a fight.

That would be the same for us, Allen thought. They wouldn’t even break a sweat.

The next half an hour was an exercise in boredom. The alien voice would occasionally speak up and say: ‘Negotiations are continuing,” and each time it did, everyone in the room would jump, before looking embarrassingly around at the others in the room.

“It’s like watching paint dry,” someone commented in the dimly lit room.

“Yeah. It would be better with a soundtrack—”

Suddenly the room lit up as the large screen on the wall washed-out completely. Then the alien voice came through the speakers. “The Juireans have fired on the negotiators.” The voice was amazingly calm.

As the screen adjusted for the brightness, Allen could see half a dozen or more balls of blue-white fire closing on the Klin ship. He couldn’t see where they came from, but they seemed to be closing on the ship from all directions.

And then it was over. The image showed a brief flash of bright light…before the Klin ship disappeared from the screen.

The situation room erupted in a beehive of activity, as generals and admirals and clean-cut young men in blue suits picked up landlines or pulled out their smartphones and began talking at once. The voices were deafening, and Allen noticed they all carried in them the sound of panic.

For his part, Captain Nate Allen walked calmly to the nearest exit—and as he did so, pressed the button on the small transmitter in his pocket three times. Then he was out the door and headed for the closest exit from the gargantuan Pentagon building. His wife and two sons should be in West Virginia by now, on I-68, heading west. If all went according to plan, he would meet up with them at Carrie’s sister’s house just outside of Morgantown, if he could get out of the city in time. Hopefully, the town of thirty-three thousand would be small enough to be missed by the Hell that was about to rain down upon the planet Earth.

Chapter 22

Lt. Andy Tobias felt his heart rise up in his chest and he suddenly felt dizzy. He had tried desperately to prepare himself for the moment when—or if—the signal came through from Captain Allen. He tripled checked the results. Yes, it was three beeps, not one. The mission was a ‘Go!’ That meant the negotiations had failed, and that the Earth would soon be attacked by overwhelming alien forces.

As he sent the ‘Go’ order out to the other SEAL commanders, his only hope was that Adam Cain was right, and that the Klin would intervene to prevent the complete destruction of the Human race. Only time would tell. But for now, Lt. Andy Tobias had his own operation to initiate.

Yet before he slipped out the door of the DEVGRU building at Dam Neck, he had a call to make. He had no qualms making it, not in light of recent events. In a few hours, all national security concerns would fly out the window. Besides, he had promised.

He dialed the number and heard it ring. But then the rings continued, soon to be replaced with a recorded greeting in the voice of Maria Cain.

“Hello, Maria. This is Andy Tobias. I know it’s been a while, but I have some very important news for you, plus some instructions I need you to follow to the ‘tee.’ First of all, I want to tell you that Adam is alive. I know this will come as a shock to you, but he is back, and he’s well. But that is not the main reason for my call. You have to listen to me very carefully, Maria. Something really bad is about to happen, and I need you and Cassie to leave Virginia Beach immediately. There is a real danger coming this way, and you must go either south into North Carolina or west on 58 toward Emporia – and you must leave now. Don’t take time to question this or to pack. Just go. You have to get as far away from the city as possible, as fast as possible. You know I wouldn’t be saying this just to scare you. This is serious. You must go now.

“And one other thing: Whatever you hear about Adam just know it isn’t true. Adam is a hero. He’s been through a harrowing experience and has done everything in his power to prevent what’s about to happen. Now don’t think about it. Just get in your car and go. You don’t have much time. Goodbye, Maria. And good luck to you and Cassie.”

He pressed the end button, and then sat for a moment staring at the phone. Then he took a deep breath, rose from the chair and grabbed the go-bag sitting on the floor next to his desk. “This is gonna be some shit,” he said to the empty room. “Might as well get it over with….”

Across the country—as well as other secret locations around the globe—cell phones rang or text messages were received. Hundreds of members of the Naval Special Warfare Command jumped into action, along with other special forces units representing all branches of the military. Evacuation routes out of their various cities or bases had been planned, and most already had their gear and families packed. The initial message had said families could be included, but it was imperative that no delays occur. From San Diego to Virginia Beach—and points beyond—thousands of people were hustled into cars, SUV’s and trucks, and were soon merging onto highways, heading for the nearest desert, mountain or any other place as far away from the cities as possible. Others with boats were pulling away from docks and heading for open water.

Wives and children were frightened, but they also knew their husbands were privy to information not available to the general public. This made them obey without question. But it also scared the hell out of them.

Some of the SEALs and their families had broken security and made calls to mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, telling them not to ask questions, but to just get out of the major population centers as soon as possible. Since the SEALs had not been briefed on the actual threat facing them, none could say for sure what was about to happen. This concerned the military personnel and their families even more. All they knew was that the order was unit-wide, which meant something really big was coming down.

The SEALs weren’t the only ones with contingency plans in the event the negotiations with the Juireans broke down. Over the past few days—by Presidential order—a master list of political, business and educational leaders had been drawn up. The same was taking place across the planet by governments who had been informed of the impending disaster.

The initial list of Americans was nearly twenty-five thousand strong.

The location of these people was quickly determined, and the ones outside major population centers placed on a secondary list. Those located in high-target areas were given priority. Secret Service, FBI, military and even CIA officers were dispatched in as many Chevy Suburban’s or Ford Expeditions as could be found, to lie in wait outside the offices, residences or classrooms of the people on the primary list. Helicopters sat on landing pads or in nearby fields, engines revved and ready for liftoff should the word come down. Everyone sat and waited.

President Ryan had left the White House the day before and traveled with his wife, two sons and most of his top advisors to a secure location in the granite hills of West Virginia. A few of the top members of Congress had been shuttled there as well. If the negotiations were successful, then everyone would return.

Yet even without an attack by the Juireans, after today the world would never be the same. The Juireans would still come to the planet, and the existence of alien life could no longer be kept a secret. Whatever civil rights or other laws were broken would be quickly forgiven in light of the events taking place. If the negotiations succeeded, then Ryan and his administration would be hailed as heroes. If they failed, then those who survived—either by fortune or design—wouldn’t care.

The media was going ballistic. With so much activity emanating from the government over the past seventy-two hours, journalists, bloggers and news organizations were finding it increasingly difficult to find anyone to give them straight answers. Something was definitely going on, yet what it was, not even the people involved knew for sure.

And when the President left the White House, taking with him many of his senior advisors, the White House press corps was apoplectic.

Carla Harmon—the President’s press secretary—did her best at the daily briefing that morning to assuage their concerns. She told them the President was off on a trade mission to a foreign country that she was not privileged to reveal at the time. These were very sensitive negotiations of vital national interest. Members of the media would just have to be patient.

Carla also knew she was lying. She would be waiting, just like the rest of the staff, for the word on whether or not the negotiations with the aliens succeeded. If not, then she would be on the next helo off the East Lawn. All she had to do was remain calm and confident for this last briefing. After that, she could return to her office and await the call.

Her husband and daughter, along with her mother and aunt, had already arrived at her cousin’s home in Louisiana. They had protested at first, but when Carla’s voice cracked, and the tears welled up in her eyes, they knew this was serious. She told them all she could, but they realized that what she couldn’t tell them was something very dangerous. And so they went, and because of that, Carla Harmon was able to put on her normal smiling face and calm demeanor, while the wolves in the media did their best to eat her alive.

I don’t give a damn if any of you survive, she thought as she beamed her million-dollar smile out at them. I’ve had just about as much of your bullshit as I can stand!

When the orders finally came down, thousands of people across the country and around the world instantly jumped into action.

For the agents watching the people on the primary list, their orders were simple: Acquire and extract the subject from the location, and then transport them to a designated point outside the city. Some of these locations were nothing more than rest stops along a lonely stretch of open highway. Others were schools or government buildings in tiny hamlets very few people had ever heard of.

Benjamin Lechter was an associate professor of chemistry at the University of Chicago. He had just finished an explanation of polymer reactions when two men in blue suits entered his classroom.

“Excuse me, can I help you?”

“We’re with the FBI. You’re to come with us immediately.”

“What’s this all about? Am I being arrested?” Lechter asked. Some of his male students near the front of the class stood and began to move toward the lectern.

“Stay where you are,” one of the agents said, displaying his service revolver under his suit jacket.

“You are not under arrest, sir,” said the other agent, approaching the professor. “This is for your own protection. If you do not come with us voluntarily, we are authorized to remove you by force.”

Lechter held up his hand to the gathering crowd of angry students. “It’s okay,” he said to them. And then to the agents, “I’ll go with you, but I’m going to need a full explanation very soon.”

“Everything will be explained once we reach our destination.”

“Are my students in any danger?” the professor asked.

“We don’t have any information regarding that. Please come along, Professor. We don’t have much time.”

Concerned, Lechter turned to his students, “You’re dismissed, and please leave the campus as soon as possible. I don’t like the sound of this.”

This same scene was repeated thousands of times around the globe. Most people came along peacefully, while others had to be physically removed and placed into cars, SUV’s or shoved onto helicopters. Others were able to put up such a fight, either by themselves or with the help of others, that the agents had to retreat. The orders called for the agents to use whatever force was deemed appropriate—without harming the subject. If extracting the subject was not possible without harm, then the agents were to retreat and meet at the extraction point anyway. Little did the thousands of agents participating in this part of the operation know, but their own lives were being saved in the process.

Chapter 23

Overlord Yan’wal proceeded into the Human stellar system with extreme caution. The extermination of the Human race was his mission, but first his forces would have to fight their way through whatever defenses the Humans would employ.

In all the history of his people, the Juireans had only exterminated five races. The first had been the Klin, while the other four had come after prolonged wars with these species. By the time victory had come, the Juireans knew everything they needed to know about their opponents and their capabilities. Many of the defeated were in such an advance state of ruination that eliminating the last remaining strongholds of alien life was all that was required. But in every instance, the targets of the Juirean vengeance had been known commodities.

Not so the Humans.

Yan’wal had traveled three thousand light-years to arrive at this very moment in his destiny, and yet he still knew next to nothing about the Humans and of their homeworld. The spacecraft that the so-called negotiators had been aboard was of a very advanced design, and the bolts it fired at his hapless battlecruiser had been of an intensity he had never before encountered. So he approached the planet Earth very carefully, with every sensor in his fleet tuned to detect the smallest gravity signature, something that would warn them of any incoming attack.

Yan’wal’s forces were surrounding the system, with only a few ships approaching the planet through the ecliptic plane. The Human forces could be hiding behind any myriad of planets, moons or asteroids along that path, so the bulk of his force approached the planet from above and below the ecliptic, gaining a clearer approach to the planet with fewer places for defenders to hide.

But as they drew closer to the planet, they found nothing to oppose them. This made Yan’wal very suspicious, and he ordered Canel to maintain an even stronger vigil, something the Strategist was at a loss as to how to implement.

But then the planet was before them, and still no defenders.

“My Lord,” Strategist Canel was saying, “we detect hundreds of satellites, mostly for communications, and all employing the primitive carrier wave technology. Also, we’re currently plotting literally millions of population centers across the planet. The Human population is being estimated to be several billion.”

“My Lords!” a tech called out. “We have incoming targets lifting from the planet’s surface.”

Finally, Yan’wal thought.

He and Canel looked up at the main tactical screen, as a graphic of slowly lengthening lines appeared on the display leaving the surface. There were hundreds of them.

“Assessment,” Yan’wal called out to the analysts. After a moment, the tech answered.

“My Lord, they appear to be missiles of some sort, probably nuclear according to the readings, and using chemical drives.” The tech’s voice sounded incredulous.

“Calculate the speed of targets,” Canel ordered, as he watched the attack lines grow in slow-motion.

“None are approaching at even standard chemical velocity, much lower in fact.”

“Lock onto the approaching targets. Fire when ready,” Canel announced to the fleet from his command station.

A few seconds later, the tac screen included the track lines of energy bolts emanating from the hundreds of ships encircling the planet. A few seconds later, all the targets were destroyed.

The creatures on the bridge stood silent, staring at the tac screen, waiting for the next wave of either missiles or more advanced weapons to be sent their way. None came.

Yan’wal moved to Canel’s command station and looked over his shoulder. “What is your next action?” Yan’wal asked.

“Since they do not appear to have any substantial planetary defenses, I suggest we commence the bombardment as soon as possible. Their fleet may be off-station, and in route as we speak. But, my Lord, there are so many targets, it will take dozens of loads just to destroy one average-size settlement.”

Yan’wal was afraid of this. Even though he had five hundred warships in his fleet, he had no idea what it would take to defeat the Humans. Even with his ships bombarding around the clock it would take several days to saturate all the settlements on the surface below. The problem came from the energy it took to create bolts of bombardment grade, and their rate of fire. Each of his ships could only generate three to four B-grade bolts at a time before having to recharge the batteries for a full hour, if not longer. And all the time they spent in orbit, bombarding the planet below, allowed whatever fleet the Humans may have that much more time to come to the planet’s defense.

Of course, the Juireans could have used nuclear weapons on the planet, yet that would then render it useless for many years. That option had never been a consideration, not unless it became absolutely necessary. And in light of the literal non-resistance experienced so far, Yan’wal dismissed it from his mind.

“Commence bombardment,” Yan’wal ordered, “concentrating on the largest population centers first, as well as any military installations we can detect from orbit.”

“There appear to be thousands of landing strips of various lengths spread across the planet, along with an untold number of watercraft along the shores. I have analysts studying the images to determine which are warcraft and which are not. But, my Lord, we do not detect any spaceports or concentrations of spacecraft anywhere on the planet.”

Yan’wal was silent for a long moment as he digested the information. “Proceed with the bombardment, Canel, but keep our primary attention focused out-system, watching for any gravity traces. Our mission is to eliminate the Human race. If it turns out to be an easier task than anticipated, then that is acceptable. Yet the Humans can be deceptive. Maintain your vigil. I will be in my quarters. Inform me of any changes.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Canel watched as his station monitor began to display the trails from the first white-hot balls of energy as they fell toward the surface of the planet Earth. He shared the Overlord’s concern for the lack of defenses they had found so far. It was inconceivable that the Humans would not have more advanced methods, especially considering the superior design of the negotiator’s ship. He knew—as did the Overlord—that the technology for such a vessel existed somewhere in the region. The fact that the Humans were not employing it at this time only added to his concern.

In the meantime, the Human race was about to suffer incalculable terror, destruction and loss of life. If they had the means to defend themselves, one would think they would have employed it by now.

Maria Cain was exhausted by the time she left her neighbor Ginny’s house to return to her own. Ginny Forrester was crowding seventy and loved to talk—to put it mildly. Unfortunately, Maria had to tolerate Ginny’s verbosity, seeing that she was Cassie’s primary babysitter in the neighborhood. But this latest episode had almost been too much to bear.

Maria had returned home from her part-time job as a cashier at Kroger’s and had dropped her purse on the kitchen counter before heading five doors down the street to pick up Cassie. That was two hours ago. Now, after listening to the results of Ginny’s latest physical exam, and about how the new medicine she was on gave her incredible cramps and flatulence—as well as a dozen other related and unrelated topics which the old woman droned on about—Maria was finally headed home with Cassie in tow.

Maria was grateful for the job she had at Kroger’s, even though it did involve needing a babysitter. Jobs weren’t that plentiful these days, especially in a military town full of spouses looking for part-time work to supplement their family’s military pay. Maria worked six hours a day, four days a week, beginning at six in the morning. By noon, she was heading home, able to spend the rest of the day with Cassie, who had just turned three and craved her mother’s attention 24/7.

The survivor’s benefits Maria received from the Navy helped out a lot, and the life insurance policy on Adam had paid off the minivan—even though it had taken nearly a year to receive the money. She put the remaining balance of the $100,000 in savings. Even though the money meant she didn’t have to work, she still needed a distraction from raising Cassie by herself. It also helped fight the loneliness she felt since Adam’s death. Just being out among other people—especially working in the friendly confines of a grocery store—helped out immensely.

After returning to the house, Maria set about fixing Cassie a snack, before proceeding to round up the myriad of toys strewn about the living room. Her purse remained on the counter, her cell phone buried in its depths.

Around four in the afternoon, Maria decided to call her manager at the store to check on getting some extra hours over the coming weekend. Ginny’s great grandchildren were coming over on Saturday and Cassie always loved to play with kids her own age. That would take most of the day. Saturday was normally Maria’s day off, but with Cassie occupied at Ginny’s, she could easily work a full shift, if one was available.

She pulled the iPhone from inside her purse and noticed the one missed call with its accompanying voicemail. She scrolled through the screen and placed the phone to her ear. Suddenly, her knees grew weak and she dropped to the floor, holding the kitchen counter with one hand, the phone in the other.

As she listened to the message three more times, she fought through the flowing tears and erupting emotions to focus more on the second part of the message, and less on the first—even though the first part was tremendous. Adam’s alive! But there was a more ominous tone to what Andy Tobias was saying…and all she could think of at the moment was…where’s Cassie!

She climbed to her feet and ran into the child’s room. She wasn’t there. Then she went into the master bedroom and found Cassie sitting on the bed, with a storybook in her lap. Maria scooped her up in her arms.

“Come on, baby, we have to go for a drive.” Her voice was trembling, as was her body.

“Are you all right, mommy?”

“Yes, everything’s okay.”

“But you’re shaking.”

“It’s nothing. I’m just cold. Let’s go.”

Maria strapped Cassie into the car seat in the back of the minivan, and then climbed into the driver’s seat. As she began to back out of the driveway, she was distracted by a flickering light that lit up the interior of the minivan. She looked up to see a meteor-like ball of fire streaking down from the sky directly in front of her. She gunned the accelerator and raced into the center of the cul-de-sac. Then shifting gears, the minivan shot down the street—just as a tremendous wall of fire erupted to her right….

Chapter 24

At the meeting in the Pentagon, the Klin ambassador had said the Juireans would be to Earth in six days, so on the morning of that day, Adam was climbing the walls of his makeshift prison cell with growing anger and frustration.

Tobias had returned to the building two days before and told them about the negotiating team being sent to meet with the Juireans, something Adam knew was a waste of time. The Klin would never let the Humans and Juireans negotiate a truce. If they did, then the two races would be able to compare notes and realize that it had been the Klin all along who were playing them both for fools.

So the negotiations were destined to fail. The planet would be attacked by the Juireans, of this Adam was sure.

Adam also had no doubt that Hampton Roads would be one of the primary targets. With seven major military installations in the area, the Juireans would be foolish not to lay waste to the area. Even if the Human military apparatus was no threat to them sitting in orbit, the destruction of the main American military force would be a symbolic victory.

Adam looked over at a dozing Riyad Tarazi. He had been strangely quiet for the past few days, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Adam had only been able to speak with Sherri through the thin walls separating their two rooms.

The other men in the building—the non-converts—had begun to grow restless as well. Adam could hear them protesting loudly to the guards regarding phone calls to their relatives. These men had also been abducted, and they too, wanted to let their families know they were alive and well. He could hear the bureaucrats explain to them that it would only be a day or so longer before they would be released. After all, the existence of alien life in the universe was something that had to be disclosed very carefully to the world. If they released the men now to tell their stories, either the shock would be too much for the populace to accept, or the men themselves would be consider crackpots and tin-foil-hat lunatics.

They never explained to the men the timetable for the Juirean attack, or about the negotiations taking place in outer space. The men knew the Juireans were coming, but they had no idea they were only hours away.

All Adam could do now was wait. If the negotiations failed—as he knew they would—Adam was confident Lt. Tobias would call Maria. She would be safe, or at least he kept telling himself that. As far as his own welfare, Adam was exhausted to the point of giving up. If the Juireans attacked, he would be labeled a traitor. And if the Klin came to their rescue before the attack, he would still be called a traitor. The narrative fit too well within the Klin game plan.

So either way, Adam Cain was screwed.

Around four o’clock in the afternoon, an E-1 brought in some food for Adam and Riyad. Adam didn’t feel like eating—he was too nervous as the attack deadline approached—but the country fried steak and gravy really did smell inviting. Since arriving back on Earth, Adam had savored every bite of real Human food. Even after a week, he still considered every meal a gourmet treat fit for a king.

“So, the time must be drawing near, my friend,” Riyad said as he cut into a piece of the batter-covered meat.

“I didn’t think you noticed; you’ve been pretty quiet recently.”

“Just making peace with myself and my God.”

“It’s not over yet. They may miss us initially, and then the Klin will act. Don’t give up yet.”

Riyad smiled. “And what if we are spared? What prospects do we have for returning to our normal lives?”

“Normal life—you?” Adam smiled back. He had grown fond of Riyad over the months, even if he could never forgive him for his terrorist past. But people change as their situations change, and boy have things changed! Adam knew he could trust Riyad to have his back, and that was one of the greatest compliments one person could give to another.

“You’re right,” Adam said. “We would have been better off to stay in space and ride this thing out. Hell, I probably could have contacted Maria some other way by now, even by carrier pigeon if need be. As long as she’s safe, I really don’t care what happens to me.”

“You know that’s not true, Adam. You have a survival instinct that’s stronger than most. And you certainly do not like to lose.”

“You got that right. That’s always been a big complaint of the people I’ve dealt with. If there’s a way to win, I’ll usually find it.”

“Then don’t give up either, my brother. We can never know what fate has in store for us.”

Just then, Adam heard a dull distant sound, like the steady roar of an approaching freight train. Adam and Riyad looked at each other with widening eyes—and then Riyad dove for the floor and pulled the cot over on top of him. Adam ran to the wall between his and Sherri’s room and hammered loudly with his fist.

“I know, I heard it!” Sherri responded immediately. Adam dove for the floor next, pulling the mattress over his body.

Seconds later, they heard the sonic boom, as the roiling mass of white-hot energy descended through the atmosphere. From launch to landing, the bolt took eight minutes to strike the Earth, and when it did, it splashed like liquid fire and spread out in a wave of death and destruction, incinerating everything it touched.

The first bolt struck on the other side of the Chesapeake Bay, in Hampton, Virginia, somewhere on the Langley Air Force Base. The second and third landed in Norfolk, at the Naval Operations Base. The fourth struck on the other side of the ship basin at Little Creek, across from the building where Adam and the rest of them were held. The fire smashed into several buildings and then flowed outward, striking the various ships docked in the basin. The white fire blew apart wood and brick buildings, while melting much of the superstructure of the ships in port. Then the wave of fire continued over the water toward Adam’s building.

What happened next was a sheer stroke of fortune, and it saved most of the lives of those in the building. As the fire swept over the water, a thick layer of superheated steam was created on the surface. The steam had the effect of lifting the most destructive force of the bolt about twenty meters above the water. As the wave reached the opposite side of the basin and crossed over onto land, the force of the bolt ripped off the roof of the warehouse, while the wall of steam slammed into the front of the building. The bulk of the structure collapsed, but it didn’t burst into flames.

Five seconds later, the bolt continued to spread outward and soon dissipated, leaving in its wake an inferno of crushed and flaming buildings.

Most of the structures on the east side of the basin had been flattened by the steam wave, but few were on fire. Adam’s ears were ringing loudly, and he felt as if his skin was on fire. He fought for breath, but all the air he could inhale felt like breathing fire. He kicked at the mattress covering him and felt the weight of debris from the collapsed ceiling. Soon the air began to cool, and he could breathe again.

“Riyad! Are you still with us?”

There was a groan coming from somewhere near him. Then he heard falling debris, and a hand reached under the mattress and pulled. Riyad was on his knees, blood covering the left side of his face and flowing from his nose. He was covered in soot and dust, but he still managed a hearty smile that accentuated his brilliantly white teeth. “It will take more than a bolt of lightning from Heaven to kill me!” He pulled more pieces of splintered wood from on top of Adam.

A moment later, the two men stood in the middle of what had once been their prison cell. The ceiling was open to the sky and only about a third of the walls still stood. If the roof had not been stripped away by the fire blast, it would have crushed them when it fell.

“Damn, I can’t seem to ever get rid of the two of you,” a female voice called out from the dust and rubble. Sherri Valentine stepped over piles of broken building to reach Adam and Riyad. The three hugged until it hurt, which wasn’t much, since each of them shared their own assortment of cuts, burns and bruises.

“So I guess the negotiations didn’t go too well?” Sherri said, with no humor in her voice.

“The attacks will continue, at least until the Klin put a stop to them.”

“We hope—I mean about them stopping the attacks!” Riyad said.

“Let’s see if anyone else survived.” Sherri set off over the piles of rubble toward the front part of the building.

It was evident that those in the open bay had suffered the worst of the blast. The large room where the barracks once stood was now nearly swept clean, and they could see out across the basin to the inferno on the other side of the base. The bolt had hit about two kilometers away, and all the buildings on the west side of the base were gone. A number of the LST’s and other ships that had been in port were now resting on the bottom of the shallow basin. Several small craft had been blown over to their side of the base, and now lay strewn about the wharf area, as well as on the street in front of the building.

Then they heard moaning. They ran to the massive pile of debris that had been blown up against the main interior wall of the warehouse, a wall that had essentially split the building in two. The pile began to move, as men regained consciousness and dug out from under the debris. Adam, Riyad and Sherri dove in, pulling on pieces of the shattered building and helping the injured and dazed men to their feet.

Some of the bodies they reached didn’t move, having been crushed in the blast. But out of the thirty-two men—plus five guards—in that part of the warehouse, fifteen now stood in the center of the room, groggy and bleeding, but otherwise alive.

The men began to tend to their injuries, helping each other as best they could. A water main had broken out on the street, and several of the men went out and came back with wet rags torn either from their own tattered clothing or from the remains of sheets and blankets from the cots. None of the survivors appeared to have serious injuries, and soon many stepped out onto 5th Street and stood staring across the basin at the raging fire and billowing columns of smoke. Farther to the north they could see a dozen or more towers of smoke rising from the other side of the river, and to the west, the main naval base at Norfolk appeared to be one massive column of black smoke rising into the afternoon sky.

Billy Piscopo was one of the survivors; he walked up to Sherri and they embraced. He turned to Adam. “So the frickin Juireans must have been right behind us. What do we do now? I’m sure they’re not done with their attack.”

Adam and the rest of them had learned about the requirement to recharge the bolt batteries between salvos while onboard the Juirean battlecruiser. As they looked up into the smoke-filled sky, they knew this was only a reprieve. If the Klin did not act, there would come more fire raining from the sky.

“Hopefully they won’t waste their shots on targets they’ve already hit, but they may move to the civilian population centers around here next,” Adam said. “You’ll probably be safe sticking around here.”

Sherri noticed the tone in Adam’s voice. “What are you going to do?”

“I have to go check on something,” he said, as he spotted a gray Navy van at the rear of the building. It had survived being sheltered by the building itself.

“You’re going to look for Maria, aren’t you?”

“I have to make sure they got out in time. That’s all that matters now.”

“Then I’m coming with you,” Sherri said, much to Billy’s disappointment.

“Me too,” Riyad called out. “We’re a team now.”

Chapter 25

The van was still operational, but there were no keys to be found. So Adam slid in under the dashboard and ripped back the panel. A small part of his SEAL training included how to hotwire a vehicle. You never knew when you might need to secure transportation out of a danger zone and commandeering a civilian car could be your only option. Soon he had the engine humming, and everyone piled in, Sherri riding shotgun with Riyad in the middle row of seats behind Sherri.

Adam had no idea if the roads were passable, but he had to make the effort. His house was only seven-point-two miles from the base—he’d clocked it before—and far enough away from this particular bolt to have survived. He was just praying that the Juireans hadn’t dropped bolts indiscriminately throughout the area. He also had to hurry. The lull in the attack would only last an hour, and then another flurry of bolts could begin dropping all around the area.

They left the base by way of Helicopter Road, and then headed left on Shore Drive. There were military personnel all around, but most were rushing to the other side of the base to assist with fire control. Shore Drive was surprisingly clear, especially for it being around 5:30 on a Wednesday afternoon.

Just down Shore, they turned right onto Independence Boulevard. Here there was more traffic, but mainly cars with people in them rushing to get off the main highway and to their homes. Panicked looks covered the faces they could make out.

Smoke was drifting down now, obscuring parts of the road. Adam was disappointed to see fires burning on both sides of the street. As they came up on Northhampton Boulevard, they could see a vast area to the east where bolts had dropped between them and Oceana Naval Air Station. The Juireans had dropped a lot more bolts in the area than Adam had first believed, and not only on military targets.

They passed I-264 and found that there were more cars around the intersection, even though a lot of drivers had simply abandoned their vehicles and set off on foot. All around them were clusters of people, all looking lost and confused. Most were staring at the rising columns of smoke all around, while many more were crying as they saw their homes and entire neighborhoods burst into flames.

Adam could hear the continuous wailing of sirens, and occasionally a cluster of helicopters would pass over. Even a few fighter jets that had managed to get airborne before the airfields were struck would roar overhead, yet with no targets to strike.

Independence Boulevard soon turned into Holland Road, and about a half-a-mile later, Adam turned south onto Rosemont. His house was located in a cul-de-sac just off Ridgeview, and as he approached the area his heart began to race. Off to his right he could see billowing smoke and tall flames rhythmically dancing above burning structures. Before he reached Ridgeview, however, he saw to his right where the fence that had once stood separating the end of his street from Rosemont was now gone, as was most of his neighborhood.

Adam turned sharply right, jumping the curb and crossing the smoldering grass before hitting the pavement at the end of his street. Directly in front of him was what remained of his home. It had been a two-story structure with eight large windows facing east. He had always enjoyed the morning light as it streamed through the bedroom window, never too hot at that time of day. But now his home was engulfed in flames.

From the direction of the debris field, the bolt had hit somewhere around Green Run High School. The blast flowed out in all directions with his street was right at the tail end of its range. Even still, the heat and concussion had nearly leveled his house and set the remains on fire.

The home had a one car garage, and he always kept his 2006 Mustang GT inside. Maria may have sold the car by then, so her minivan could have been in the garage. It was easy to see that it wasn’t there. The burning garage was empty.

Adam let out a sigh of relief and rested his head on the van’s steering wheel. At least Maria had gotten out in time. He wondered how his other neighbors had fared—

He lifted his head and looked down the street. Nearly all the homes were in flames with numerous cars and trucks having been blown into the structures on the east side of the street. Their babysitter, Ginny Forrester, had lived down the street. Her home was unrecognizable in all the charred and burning rubble. She was old and seldom left her home. She would have been there when the bolt struck.

And then he saw it, sticking out of a pile of broken wood, roofing material and other mangled cars on the left side of the street. It was the front end of a Dodge minivan, once white in color and with a distinctive blue accent border along the left quarter panel.

Adam’s heart skipped a beat, and he felt himself go cold. He threw open the door to the van and sprinted down the street, skirting burning piles of debris as he went.

Sherri and Riyad jumped from the van and ran off after him. All around fires raged, and the embers filled the air as a west-to-east evening breeze began to stir, unaffected by the disaster that had just occurred. Their eyes burned from the smoke, but neither Riyad nor Sherri noticed. All they could see was Adam as he bounded up a twisted and smoldering Pontiac Firebird and approached the front end of a minivan buried in the rubble, sitting at a 45-degree angle in the pile.

Adam reached the vehicle and looked inside through the shattered front passenger window. Then he fell back onto the hot and smoky debris.

Riyad and Sherri arrived seconds later; Sherri went to Adam, while Riyad looked through the window of the minivan.

Inside were the charred remains of two bodies, one a female, the other a child. The bodies were still smoldering, and the blackened skeletal heads displayed the perpetual screams of agony, their lower jaws having separated from the main part of the skull to form even wider gaps. It was a horrific scene, and Riyad fought back the urge to vomit.

He turned to see Sherri with her arm around Adam. He was staring straight ahead, his jaw set and his eyes wide and red from the thick smoke. He was shaking his head and cursing loudly, hate substituted for tears. Riyad slipped in next to them and rested his hand on Adam’s shoulder. There was nothing to say, so they sat atop the ten-meter-high pile of what had once been people’s homes and possessions and let the embers and smoke flow around them.

Chapter 26

It seemed like an hour passed before Adam was able to look Sherri and Riyad in the eye. Maria and Cassie had not made it out—and the Juireans had killed them. After all the effort, all his hoping and all his dreams, Adam had returned to Earth just in time to see his wife and child murdered as part of some obscene game played between two races of inhuman creatures. The Klin were using the Human race as pawns, to be sacrificed as they saw fit. And the Juireans—in their primal fear of the Klin and their own insecurity—were more than willing to exterminate an entire race of intelligent beings before they could even determine if they were a real threat or not.

And Maria and Cassie were just two of the innocent people who had paid the ultimate price, simply for living on the planet Earth.

Adam wiped away the few stubborn tears that had managed to escape his eyes and set his jaw. His bottom lip trembled, and he felt the anger swell up inside. The aliens had killed his family, and he swore that they would pay for this—they would all pay for it—every last goddamn alien in the universe.

Riyad had been right. Adam didn’t like to lose, and having his family taken from him was the greatest loss of all.

But the game wasn’t over, at least not for Adam Cain. He would find a way to exact his revenge. He had nothing left to live for, not now, only the payback that was coming. He didn’t know how or when he would do it, but he certainly knew why. Adam Cain would make them all suffer for what they had done to his innocent wife and child. He would make them all pay.

Chapter 27

The early evening sky was still bright, lit by the myriad of fires that burned throughout the area. Around 6:30, just as Adam and his friends were rising from the pile of rubble that had once been Northwood Drive, they saw the first fiery trails of the second wave of bolts descend from above. None of them attempted to run for cover; what good would it have done anyway? Instead, they stood watching the reverse fireworks, as a few more survivors stood in the street, also looking skyward, all in a daze.

Just then, a pair of bright headlights lit up what had once been Adam’s street. A sand-colored camouflage Humvee crawled over the debris and came to a stop just below the pile of rubble. A door opened and out stepped Lt. Andy Tobias.

“I was told I might find you here,” he said, looking around at the scene of utter devastation. Then he noticed the look on Adam’s face, a look of pure animal anger. Tobias’s jaw dropped open.

“She didn’t get away,” he said, more to Sherri and Riyad than to Adam.

Sherri shook her head.

“Adam, I’m so sorry,” he said. “I did call, but I had to leave a message.”

“It’s okay, sir. It’s not your fault. They were trying to get away,” were the first non-swear words Adam had spoken since he’d seen his dead wife and child. “I suppose you’re here to take us back…so we can be blamed for all this.”

“No, sir. We have other plans for the three of you. Get in.”

Gill ‘Peanut’ Norris was in the driver’s seat of the Humvee, and he simply nodded to his former Teammate as Adam climbed in the back. Adam tried to shake off the hurt and get his mind back in the game. He had seen a lot of death in his time, but this was different. Still he had to cope.

“What’s going on, LT?” he managed to ask.

“You’ll see.”

The Humvee made it back onto Rosemont Road and then headed up the street until they came to a corner shopping center anchored by a Food Lion grocery store. There were dozens of people in the parking lot, many of them looting the various stores and eateries. The center still had power, and in the bright lights of the store, Adam watched as a man in a blue apron leveled a long-barrel hunting rifle at a couple of kids running out of his store with armfuls of merchandise. The man opened fire, striking one of the teenagers in the back, while the other one dropped his loot and ducked behind a car.

Just then, another teenager stepped up behind the shop owner and placed a .38 to the back of his head and pulled the trigger. The man collapsed where he stood. The kid—along with a group of about ten other youths—entered the store. The rule of the jungle was in effect.

“Why don’t you do something?” Sherri called out from the backseat.

“We have a different mission, Ms. Valentine.”

Indeed, parked at the end of the lot, near the intersection of Rosemont and South Plaza Trail, were three large military trucks, along with two additional Humvees. A dozen Navy SEALs in full combat gear stood around the trucks, M4A1 assault rifles cradled against their chests. They stood stoically watching the scene of looting and murder, with only looks of grim determination on their faces. Even though the parking lot was full of chaos, the looters knew better than to approach the military convoy. Internally, each of the SEALs wished they would.

As the Lieutenant’s Humvee pulled up, Senior Chief Geoffrey Rutledge stepped forward. “We can’t stay here much longer. Shit’s coming down the darker it gets. By the way, welcome back, Cain.”

“Understood,” Tobias said. “Saddle up.”

Adam stepped up next to his platoon leader. “Where we going, and what’s all this?” he asked, indicating the convoy of trucks.

For an answer, Tobias stepped to the rear of one of the trucks and separated the back canvas flap. Adam’s jaw dropped, as he saw that the entire truck was filled with weapons and ammunition crates. He could see the stenciled black writing of SMAW MK153 Mod grenade launchers, 5.56- and 7.62-caliber ammunition boxes, M4 and M16 rifle crates, and so much more. The back of the truck was stacked all the way to the top of the canvas cover with an incredible amount of firepower.

“The other truck has the same.”

“What’s in the first truck?” Adam managed to ask.

For an answer, Tobias stepped up and pulled back the canvas. Inside were the fifteen survivors from Adam’s prison building, all looking weary, bloodied and bruised. Billy Piscopo was seated at the end, next to Chris Mullis.

Sherri stepped forward. “Billy, what are you doing here?”

“Tobias came back to the base looking for you. I told him Adam had gone looking for his wife. Then they loaded us all into this truck.”

“Where are you taking us?” Sherri asked, a fierce determination in her voice.

“Someplace away from all this shit. But we don’t have much time. We have to dodge these fire balls on the way. And besides, we can’t hang around here and risk taking a stray bullet hit on one of these trucks. Get back to the Humvee.”

The military caravan set off north on Rosemont. The going was slower now, as cars crowded the roads with more and more people trying to leave the city. Not paying attention to any traffic rules, the caravan crowded onto sidewalks and medians until they came to I-264. They entered the freeway and headed west. From the elevated highway, they could see hundreds of fires burning out of control, as well as the last few trails of fire balls as they struck closer to Norfolk Naval Base and the population centers of Portsmouth and Chesapeake.

Then came the next lull in the bombardment.

The caravan transitioned from 264 onto I-64 north, heading toward Hampton, Virginia. The road was packed, but the large trucks managed to muscle their way through the traffic, which began to lighten up once they reached the Willoughby Spit and entered the bridge over the section of water called Hampton Roads.

The highway continued until it dipped under the river at the Hampton Roads Tunnel, a section of highway that continued deep under the river for approximately a kilometer. As the road began to dip, Adam could see the looming entrance to the tunnel, still ablaze with light, much to his surprise.

They had no idea if the tunnel was still intact, but looking at the region from space, the aliens would have had no reason to drop a bolt in the middle of a wide river. There would be no indication that a tunnel even existed under the water.

Tobias sent the lead Humvee into the tunnel, and the tiny red taillights soon disappeared from their view. Five minutes later, the radio in Tobias’s hand crackled. “All clear. There are some people hiding out inside, but they shouldn’t get in your way.”

“Roger that,” Tobias replied, and then he nodded to Peanut. The caravan proceeded into the tunnel.

Once through, it was a quick and nearly traffic-free drive into Hampton. The convoy exited the freeway at Armistead and headed north.

“We’re going to Langley?” Adam asked.

“Yep.”

“Are you flying us somewhere,” Riyad inquired from the backseat.

“Nope, but you are.”

“What’s going on, LT? We deserve to know,” Adam said, more forcefully this time.

Lt. Tobias turned in his seat so he could see the faces in the dimly-lit backseat. “That spaceship you came in on was moved here to Langley. It’s over at the NASA research area.”

“Are you sure? Is it still intact?” Adam was suddenly excited.

“I’m sure it’s there. The CO managed to find out where it was a couple of days ago. As far as whether it survived the attacks, that’s anyone’s guess.”

“Are you going to let us fly it off the planet?” Adam’s tone was deadly serious. This could be his way of getting back in the fight.

“That’s an affirmative, Mr. Cain. If you’re up for it?”

“Damn right, sir. I can’t do shit sitting in a prison here on Earth. At least out there,” he motioned toward the sky, “I can spill some blood—alien blood.”

“That was the CO’s thought as well. He has a mission for you, sailor.” Then he scanned the faces of Sherri and Riyad as well. “And the two of you as well—if you’re willing.”

Riyad spoke up immediately. “I’m in. Some of my greatest glory was as a superman among the aliens.”

“And you, Ms. Valentine?”

There was a deep frown on Sherri’s forehead. All eyes were on her. Finally she nodded. “On two conditions. First, I need to get a message to my folks, letting them know that I’m alive and well.” And then she hesitated.

“And the second?”

“That you stop calling me Ms. Valentine!”

In light of all that was happening to them, everyone in the Humvee burst out laughing.

Chapter 28

For his part, Adam felt an intense sense of relief—assuming the shuttle was still in one piece, and that the NASA scientists hadn’t torn it apart. For the past week he had felt such an overpowering sense of helplessness. He knew what was happening in the politics of the moment, and yet he was unable to do anything about it.

And now Maria and Cassie.

The worst thing Adam could imagine was being locked away in a cell somewhere, unable to act, while the hatred of an entire race was directed at him. He knew the propaganda against him would continue, even if he was able to escape the planet. He just wouldn’t be around to see it. And if he was free to act, out among the stars, then maybe he could gather the evidence he would need to clear his name….

Tobias informed them that all cellphone communications were down, as were television transmissions. The Juireans had cleared the space around the planet of all satellites, be they civilian or military. So Tobias promised Sherri that he would use his military walkie-talkie to start a chain of relay messages aimed at letting her parents know she was alive. This brightened Sherri’s mood immensely, at least until the time they turned off Armistead and onto Sweeny Boulevard, before pulling up to the main gate at Langley Air Force Base.

A dazed Airman, looking to be not more than twenty, stepped up to the driver’s side of the lead Humvee and looked inside. Lt. Tobias leaned over, crowding Peanut in the driver’s seat. The Airman saluted the officer.

“What going on here, Airman? How has the base come through?”

“Sir, we got hit by about six or seven of those balls of fire. What the hell’s going on, sir? Who’s doing this to us?”

“It’s a long and unbelievable story,” Tobias said. “Are you aware of any damage to the NASA facility?”

“That’s north of here,” the airman replied. “Most of the damage has been to the runways and hangars. I don’t think anything hit in that area.”

“Thank you, Airman.” Then remembering what Adam had said about the Klin stepping in to stop the attack before total destruction, Tobias said, “The worst of the attacks should be over pretty soon, son. You can relax, and maybe see about checking on your family, if you have one around here.”

“Thank you, sir, but it’s just me here. Most of the guys with families have already taken off. The sergeant gave them permission.”

“Very well. I appreciate your dedication to your country, Airman. Carry on.”

“Yes, sir.” The Airman saluted again, this time with a little more crispness in the motion.

The convoy proceeded through the gate and turned left on Lee Road. The narrow, two-lane road took them west of the runways, where they could see numerous fires burning off to the east, the eerie light dancing through the thick smoke.

Captain Allen had learned that the shuttle had been moved to Langley and placed in a hangar off of Lindbergh Way near Taylor Street, where NASA scientists and engineers could begin to study its operation. Apparently, most of the aeronautical community was not aware of the Klin, and so they still marveled at the chance to study the advanced technology of an actual alien spacecraft. Adam was sure the people at the facility were ecstatic beyond belief at the opportunity that had been dropped in their laps. He also knew that come the morning light, their entire reality would change forever.

The people in the Humvee were relieved to see that there was no damage to the buildings at this end of the base, and even more so as the huge hangar came into view on their left. It was a large building, with a corrugated door towering thirty meters tall and forty wide. The hangar door was shut, and there was small entrance door set just to the right.

Tobias slid out of the Humvee and approached the door. It was locked, but he could see light coming through its tiny opaque window, as well as from the various other windows that ran along the top of the wall. There were also various cars still in the parking lot along the west side of the building. With an alien spacecraft to examine, Tobias couldn’t image that the place would be closed for the night—even in light of the alien attack taking place.

He banged on the door, and after a moment, a voice called out from the other side. “Who is it?”

“Lt. Andy Tobias, United States Navy SEALs. Open the door.”

“This is a secure facility, Lieutenant. Do you have clearance?”

“Cut the bullshit, pinhead. You know what’s going on out here. And we know you have an alien spaceship inside. So open the fucking door…or we’ll blow it open.”

Tobias could hear the latch being released. Then the door cracked open. Tobias pushed his way through, followed quickly by Adam, Sherri, and Riyad, along with Peanut in full tactical gear. The room inside was brightly lit, with about a dozen scientists, all in their ubiquitous white lab coats, standing around staring at them.

“What’s going on?” a skinny man closest to the door asked. “There’s been some kind of horrible attack, and we’ve lost all contact with the outside. No phones, no internet, no TV...nothing.”

“Aliens, my friend,” Riyad said as he passed the scientist. Behind him came a dozen more SEALs. “They’ve come for their little toy you have here,” he teased, as a look of terror spread across the faces of the scientists.

The shuttle was sitting in the main hangar area, facing inward, with spotlights aimed on it and the rear panel open.

“Get this door open,” Tobias commanded, indicating the main hangar door. Several of the SEALs set off to make it so.

Adam stepped up next to him. “We need to turn it around and get it outside.”

“Roger that.” Tobias told two of his men to climb on the tractors that had originally pulled the craft inside the hangar and to swing it around. The shuttle was not built with wheels, just runners, so when the men began to turn the craft, the screeching of metal on the concrete floor was deafening. But soon the behemoth was turned and scraping its way onto the tarmac outside the hangar and into the smoky evening air.

“Where are you taking it?” the lead scientist asked, his voice frantic. “We don’t know how it works yet. We’ve just started our analysis.”

“We’ve got that covered,” Tobias said, dismissing the scientist with a wave of his hand. Then he turned to face the wiry and pale-skinned man. “Besides, come tomorrow, you’re probably all going to be out of a job!”

Once the craft was outside, Tobias ordered that the two supply trucks be driven into the large troop bay at the rear of the shuttle. Riyad hurried past the large trucks and went forward into the pilothouse to begin charging the generators.

Sherri stood with the non-converts, Billy Piscopo by her side, engrossed in conversation.

Adam approached Lieutenant Tobias and offered his hand. “Thanks for everything, Mr. Tobias. I really appreciate the risk you’re taking by helping us. I hope everything goes well for you down here after we leave.” Then out of the corner of his eye, Adam noticed as all the SEALs disappeared into the rear of the shuttle. Adam turned back to the lieutenant, his eyes wide.

“You didn’t think we’d let you have all the fun, did you? We’re coming with you, Mr. Cain. All of us.”

Adam was stunned. He never imaged that the SEALs would be coming along, too. “But sir, what about all your families and friends?”

“I’m one of those swinging bachelors, Adam, as are all the other SEALs who have volunteered for this mission. Of course, I do have an ex-wife, but she wouldn’t give a damn where I end up, just so long as I ain’t botherin’ her. I figure a few thousand light-years away should make her happy.”

Billy Piscopo stepped up to the two of them. “I’ve been talking with the guys, and we’d like to come along, too, if that’s okay?”

“Are you sure? You know we’re probably never coming back to Earth.”

“We realize that. But we also believe we’re going to be treated just like you were if we stay. No one’s going to believe us about the abductions, and how we were treated by the 2G’s. The government has kept us locked up for a week, even before the attack. I don’t think they were ever going to let us out, just so we could run around free to tell our stories, especially not now.”

“Of course you’re welcome, Billy. All of you are,” Adam said, turning back to Tobias. “But you also realize we may not even make it off the planet before someone takes us out, either the Klin or the Juireans.”

“We live our lives on the edge of a sword all the time, Mr. Cain. We’re wasting time standing out here discussing this.”

“Aye, aye sir. Let’s get aboard.”

Adam then ran over to the scientists, who had all gathered in the opening to the hangar. “All of you need to clear out! We’re going to initiate a gravity-well, and when we do, this entire building is going to be ripped to shreds. You have five minutes to get as far away as you can.”

“A gravity-well?” someone yelled out from the group. “Like a singularity? That’s amazing! Take me with you!” And before he knew it, four of the scientists ran forward and into the back of the shuttle.

“No, you can’t—” and then he stopped. Adam had never had scientists around before, especially rocket scientists like these guys. They could come in handy….

What the hell, he thought. The more the merrier. “Anyone else want to come along? It will be one hell of a ride.”

To his amazement, three more of the men in lab coats sprinted toward the shuttle, with not a single one of those remaining raising a word in protest. Adam was sure that if it were not for familial ties, every one of the scientists in the hangar would have jumped at the chance to fly aboard a starship.

Adam ran for the back of the shuttle just as the last of Billy’s people were entering. He stood at the controls, just inside the troop bay, and waited until he was sure all were in. Then he pressed the button causing the ramp to lift and seal the compartment.

Since the spacecraft had been built as a landing craft, there were plenty of bench seats along both sides of the fuselage for the troops. The SEALs where busy helping all the other passengers strap in for lift off. None of the sailors knew the trip into space would be as smooth as a silk, but all Adam did was smile at their efforts as he rushed past them on his way to the pilothouse. They would learn soon enough. Yet even if the ride itself would be smooth, he was sure a few of them would lose their lunches when the gravity-wells were initiated. It was just a rite of passage for rookie star travelers.

The pilothouse aboard the landing craft was spacious, large enough to comfortably fit all its current occupants. Riyad was in the pilot’s seat, with Sherri, Tobias and Chief Rutledge strapped into seats just behind him. Adam slipped into the co-pilot’s seat and fastened his harness.

He looked out the starboard viewport to see if the remaining scientists had cleared the area, and once satisfied, he turned to Riyad. “We definitely didn’t overstay our welcome, did we?”

“Who knew our hosts would be such bores. Are we ready?”

“As ever…punch it!”

As the series of microscopic singularities popped into existence above them, the shuttle began to fall into the gravity well they created, lifting gently off the surface of the Earth. The hangar building next to them was ripped to pieces, with debris streaming past the viewports and up into the darkness of the night sky above. Once the craft was about two hundred meters off the surface, Riyad initiated the internal gravity-wells. Stomachs heaved as the wells fought for dominance over their bodies; Adam could hear the intake of breath from Tobias and Rutledge behind him, but not a peep from Sherri or Riyad. Maybe he should have warned the others in the landing bay….

Soon the lights from hundreds of fires burning throughout the Hampton Roads area of Virginia began to grow ever smaller as the alien spacecraft gained altitude. As they climbed, Adam could see more fires burning further north, near Richmond, and moments later, it looked as if the whole of Washington D.C. was one big fire.

All the occupants of the pilothouse looked out at the darkening landscape of the planet Earth, now spotted with thousands of fires. As they peered out the viewports, not a word was spoken. They all knew that the loss of life would have to be in the millions worldwide, if not more. This was their home, their race, and so many had been unceremoniously butchered without remorse or guilt. Millions of Human beings!

On the screen before him, Riyad could see literally hundreds of contact transponders in the space above them. Their own transponder would identify them as Juirean as well, which would help them achieve orbit. At least that part was working in their favor. But so far, the Klin had not acted. Any moment now, the bombardment of Earth would resume, and more people would die….

Chapter 29

Overlord Yan’wal couldn’t stand it any longer. He had tried to remain in his quarters as long as possible and let his subordinates do their jobs. But that wasn’t going to be possible. There were just too many inconsistencies with this whole Human-affair that his mind was about to explode. He had to be where the action was.

Lord Giodol had joined Canel on the bridge, and the two of them were hunched over Canel’s tac screen at his station. They both straightened up when Yan’wal approached.

“Please continue,” Yan’wal said. “I just came to see how the attack is progressing.”

Giodol and Canel shared a glance at each other, and then Canel spoke, “Better than anticipated, my Lord. As soon as batteries are charged the fleet is continuing to drop bolts on the planet. There has been no resistance.”

“Doesn’t that seem strange?” the Overlord asked.

Giodol nodded. “Yes, my Lord. It is completely inconsistent with what we were led to believe. We’re at a loss as to what has happened.”

“I suppose we should be grateful—”

“My Lords!” a tech called out. A split second later the UN-444 heaved upward suddenly, sending everyone on the bridge flying into the air; the ship surged again, as they crashed back down to the deck. Alarms blared, and there was a rumbling vibration felt in the cold metal of the deck.

Yan’wal lifted himself up. “Status!” he screamed out.

“We have taken two strong bolts to our aft section. Generators are offline,” a voice cried out in the confusion.

Canel climbed back in his command chair. “Where did the bolts originate?”

“Immediate vicinity…Another inbound!”

Everyone on the bridge felt the explosion from deep in the bowels of the massive starship. Lights went out, replaced quickly by battery-powered backups. Then the sickly surge of weightlessness swept over the bridge.

“The wells have evaporated, my Lord!” Canel called out.

“That’s obvious, Strategist,” was Yan’wal’s wry reply. “What is the status of the fleet?”

Canel buried his face in the data streaming across his screen. “Wide-spread losses. The enemy…they, they were dark.”

“Explain yourself.”

“Apparently there are now hundreds of defenders emerging from dark status. They are all within the perimeter, firing right off our ships!”

“I knew it!” Yan’wal said to no one in particular. “It was a trap. Can we maneuver?”

“No, my Lord. The first bolts took out our generators.” Canel then turned in his chair to face the shocked look on Giodol’s face, along with the disgusted expression on Yan’wal’s. “Even our weapons systems have been disabled. We are defenseless.”

The three senior Juireans just stared back at each other. There was nothing left to say. The enemy—be they Human or Klin—could now simply lay off and pepper the largest ship in the Juirean fleet with as many bolts as it took to destroy her—and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

Chapter 30

Moments after merging with the massive Juirean fleet in orbit around Earth, Riyad began to cautiously weave his way past huge battlecruisers and bolt platforms. Some were visible through the viewports, while dozens more were simply red dots on his screen. He didn’t want to make a beeline for the Moon, but rather to appear as if he was shuttling between ships, all the while growing ever closer to his ultimate destination.

Suddenly—off to their left—a bright flash assailed their eyes. It was much brighter than a bolt launch, and as everyone in the pilothouse turned to look, a massive explosion filled their view. And then another, followed by another.

Adam leaned over so he could look at Riyad’s screen. There were hundreds, if not thousands of bolt launches tracking toward the red dots. Many of these launches were point-blank to their targets. And then the sources were revealed, as gravity drives activated on hundreds of smaller contacts, all interwoven within the ranks of the Juirean ships.

The Klin Fleet! Or more correctly, the Klin Fleet manned by the 2G’s, Adam thought. And then a sickly feeling grew in the pit of his stomach. He was right.

“What’s happenin’?” Lt. Tobias asked from his seat.

“It’s the Klin, LT,” Adam said. “They’ve been sitting out here in what’s called dark status all along, with only minimum power output. And they’ve been here since the beginning. That’s the only way they could have gotten within the Juirean lines without being detected.”

“You called it, Mr. Cain,” Tobias acknowledged.

“And they could have stopped all the attacks!” said Sherri, voicing the thought running through all their minds.

“Heads up, everyone!” Riyad called out. “Now that the Klin are attacking Juirean spaceships, we’re in a shitload of trouble.”

He was right. The nav screen had designated the Klin ships with blue dots, distinguishing them from the Juireans based upon the energy signatures they gave off. They could now see graphically just how many of the Klin ships there were, easily twice as many as the Juireans, although of smaller size. They were streaking between the larger Juirean ships, strafing them with bolts of unbelievable intensity. Even if their numbers were not as high, the strength of the Klin weapons would have been enough to easily defeat the Juirean fleet.

The landing craft’s only chance of successfully running the gauntlet of Klin ships came from the fact that it was so small and unarmed. With all pretenses gone, Riyad deepened the well and shot off for the Moon. They ended up traveling a zigzag course, so as to avoid getting too close to any of the Klin ships, but within a few minutes, they were skimming along barely five kilometers above the surface. None of the Klin were following.

Now all we had to do is get to the far side of the Moon and locate Kaylor and Jym, Adam thought. And once that’s done, then get out of the system in one of the only Juirean battlecruisers left intact, and all with hundreds of Klin buzzing around the area looking to blast anything Juirean to smithereens. Simple….

Chapter 31

Guard Commander Rillor, in the Light Quarter-Ship UA-14, saw the devastation being exacted on the Juirean Fleet from his position as an outer perimeter sentry a light-year out from the Earth. He and the other two ships in his squadron-maintained guard duty over the nine supply ships that lay off their aft sections, while twelve other squadrons, guarded the hundred or so other supply ships that had accompanied the fleet to Earth. He couldn’t believe what his screen was showing. It was impossible, and yet he was seeing it with his own eyes.

As communications were broken with the fighting ships of the fleet, Rillor was at a loss as to what action to take next. He had never operated on his own before, and now he could see dozens of the smaller contacts that had destroyed the fleet moving in his direction. Without a command decision, his entire squadron, along with all the supply ships, would be destroyed as well.

Before he could act, he began to receive links from the other sentries. They were all under attack and suffering catastrophic losses.

The young Guard Commander had no choice. He opened a link to the other sentries with him, as well as to his supply ships. He would lead them out of the area at flank speed and attempt to return to Juirean space. They would leave immediately.

And then he saw them, five disk-shaped spacecraft, streaking near him on his port side. Rillor’s ship did possess weapons, but he had seen how effortlessly these strangely shaped ships had dispatched the mightiest warships in the Juirean fleet. His tiny sentry ship would not stand a chance.

But the other ships did not fire on him, so he maneuvered his twelve ships in a direction heading away from the Earth system, and initiated a deep well, as did all the other ships in his tiny fleet. As they all bolted out of the area, Rillor watched for evidence that they were being followed, but there was none.

An hour, the young Commander began to relax. He had escaped the tragedy of the Human attack. How, he did not exactly know.

But he didn’t dwell on his good fortune for long. Rillor would soon compose a message to be sent to Juir, through the communication relays laid during the fleet’s journey to Earth. It would be a message like none before it. It would speak of the greatest military defeat ever suffered by the Juireans in their long history. And Rillor would be its author.

Chapter 32

The gray bleakness of the lunar surface streaked by below them with dizzying swiftness. Soon the landing craft had wrapped around the far side and was closing in on the location where Adam had left Kaylor and the Juirean Battlecruiser.

As they approached, Adam also knew there was a possibility that the Klin could have discovered the ship already and destroyed it. If that were the case, then the ship would have to return to Earth. The tiny craft only had a range of about ten light-years, and no weapons. There wasn’t much he could do aboard the landing craft to exact his revenge on the Juireans and the Klin. But with a Juirean battlecruiser, that was another story.

Then another thought crossed his mind: Kaylor may not be there!

The plan had called for Adam to return to Earth to a hero’s welcome, and then he would contact Kaylor and Jym, and have them bring the large warcraft into Earth’s orbit. Human scientists and engineers would then tear the ship apart and learn all her secrets. But Kaylor may have bolted already, once he saw the Juirean Fleet arrive, or more likely, when the Klin started shooting. Either way, Adam’s blood pressure was climbing with every kilometer they put behind them.

Adam activated the coded beacon Kaylor had set up prior to their departure. Hopefully there was someone at the other end to receive it…

“Adam! Is that you?” Jym’s voice cried out through the speakers.

Adam breathed a sigh of relief. At least that uncertainty was erased. Now they might have a fighting chance of making it out of the system alive.

“It’s me. How are the two of you holding up?”

“Do you know what’s been going on up here?” It was Kaylor now. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“No one has, my friend. But we have to get out of here as soon as possible. We’re coming up on your position. Prepare to bring us aboard.”

Riyad had slowed the landing craft considerably, and now they were approaching the crater where Kaylor had landed the giant spaceship. They could clearly see its outline, completely covered in grayish-white dust, and blending in perfectly with the surrounding monochromatic landscape.

And then in the blink of an eye, all the dust disappeared from the ship when the gravity-well was established, forming a perfect circle in the soil of the crater surrounding the ship. Then the massive battlecruiser began to lift off the surface.

As it gained altitude, Riyad brought the landing craft around to its aft section, closing in on the lighted landing bay just under the starboard superstructure. Moments later they skidded to a stop, while large metal doors rolled from each side of the entrance to seal the compartment.

The moment the landing bay was pressurized, Riyad lowered the rear loading ramp of the shuttle, and dazed and bewildered men and women stepped out onto the deck of the Juirean starship.

Adam rushed up to Sherri. “I’m going to need Billy and his men to man the weapon systems onboard in case we have to shoot our way out. Can you get him on that? And have them take the SEALs with them. The sooner they see how things work, the better.”

“What about them?” she asked, indicating the cluster of wide-eyed scientists standing near the loading ramp.

“Hell if I know. Have them go with Billy’s men, too. Just make sure they don’t get in the way.”

“Why’d you bring them along in the first place?”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time. Besides, I can’t tell a supernova from a hole in the head. I thought these guys might be able to fill in some of the blanks.”

“We’ll see.” Sherri raced off to find Billy Piscopo.

Adam headed for the bridge, with Riyad close behind. As they entered, Kaylor looked back at them from the pilot’s seat. “I hope you have a plan. There are Klin ships buzzing all over the place.”

Adam looked at the tac screen displayed on the forward bulkhead. Most of the Klin ships were now situated closer to the planet, with dozens of them having formed long lines, which were now moving methodically around the planet.

“What are they doing?” he asked Kaylor. “Are they searching for smaller ships—or survivors?”

“I do not think so. I believe they are vacuuming the space around the planet.”

“What do you mean?”

“Apparently they are using their gravity-wells to attract the debris from the battle. The space around your planet must be littered with millions of bits and pieces of Juirean spaceships. It would be very hard to maneuver with that much junk left in orbit. It makes sense.”

Leave it to the Klin to have thought of everything, Adam thought.

He studied the screen for a moment before making his decision. “We’re just going to have to take our chances. Trying to sneak out of here probably won’t work. It’ll take too much time, with too many chances of being spotted.” He turned to Riyad. “I say we us the Moon as a shield and just bolt the hell out of here as fast as we can.”

Riyad cocked his head. “Sounds like as good a plan as anything.” He turned to Kaylor. “You can recycle the generators several times before initiating the well. Build up a really big charge. The well will be incredibly deep right from the start.”

Kaylor’s head bobbed back and forth. “That should work. We just have to make sure we do not overload the generators. But that will get us away in a hurry—if we do not explode.”

“Exactly, and then we’ll use Adam’s zigzag technique once we’re clear of the system, just to make sure we aren’t followed.”

Kaylor turned back to his controls. “It will take about ten minutes to recycle the generators enough. Then I’ll punch it.” Kaylor looked over at Adam, his mouth spread into a wide grin.

The alien’s learning, Adam thought. He winked at the alien. We just may get out of this after all.

Chapter 33

Riyad’s plan worked like a charm, and after about eight hours and several zigzags, Adam felt confident they’d escaped the system without being followed. They were away from Earth and safe from both the Juireans and the Klin—at least for the time being.

Now all he needed was a plan.

Throughout the journey to Earth—as well as the week he’d spent cloistered in the warehouse at Little Creek—an idea had been percolating in the back of Adam’s mind. With the addition of the eighteen SEALs onboard, the plan was looking even more promising—if they weren’t too late.

Two days later, Adam walked onto the mess decks and spotted several of his new crew, eating processed meals and all in a more relaxed mood. Most of the people at the tables were clustered into groups of three. Sherri had matched each of the SEALs with one of Billy’s men, along with one of the seven scientists aboard. Tasks were divided among each team member.

Billy’s men were responsible for training the SEALs and the scientists in the operation of the ship, including weapon systems, food modules, grooming stations, etc. They also set everyone up in individual staterooms.

The SEALs were to teach the civilians all they could about the weapons and gear the SEALs had brought with them in the two trucks in the landing bay. They were also to learn basic tactics and strategies, at least enough so they wouldn’t be too much of a drag when operating with the SEALs.

The scientist in each group was there to help explain the astronomical and scientific aspects of their journey—if possible—and also learn how the systems aboard the ship worked from a technological standpoint. All members of the teams were finding the arrangement very exciting and mutually beneficial.

Lt. Tobias approached Adam, followed closely by Kaylor and Jym. The officer had accepted the aliens as friends, experiencing only a brief moment of discomfort upon meeting them. After what had happened over the past few days, Tobias was proving to be one of the most adaptable people Adam had ever met. Nothing fazed him.

But as he walked up to Adam, he had a frown on his face. “I’ve called all the other people onboard to the mess decks,” he began solemnly. “Kaylor intercepted a message from Earth just before we—what do you call it, bolted out of the area—and I believe we all need to hear this. I’ll wait until everyone else gets here before I relay the message.”

“Yes, sir. No problem,” Adam said.

Five minutes later, everyone on the ship was in the large eating area, seated at tables and looking at Lt. Tobias. The tiny bear-like alien Jym was next to him. The gravity for this part of the ship had been adjusted so the aliens wouldn’t suffer so much during the meeting.

“Gentleman…and ladies,” he said to the room, acknowledging Sherri and the two female scientists. “Kaylor intercepted a message that was broadcast from the President of the United States. It was sent out twelve hours ago, just as we were leaving the Moon—” Tobias stopped and smiled. “I’m sorry, it’s just so hard to say that and realize what’s happened over the past forty-eight hours.” He looked down at Adam, sitting next to Sherri in the first row of dining seats. “I’ll get used to it, as I’m sure the rest of y’all will, too.

“But back on topic: The message seems to have been sent to all TV’s, radios and even cellphones that had power. According to Kaylor, the Klin must have some way to beam messages directly to these devices without the use of satellites. It means that the people back on Earth will have better communications following a disaster of this magnitude than would be expected, seeing that all satellites were knocked out by the Juireans.”

“It also means the Klin will be able to control all communications,” Adam threw in, his face grim and hard as a rock.

“That’s true, Mr. Cain. But I felt it was important that we all hear the message, even if it has been influenced by the Klin. Some of it relates to us.”

Tobias looked directly at Adam for a heartbeat, before nodding to Jym to begin. The diminutive alien pressed a button on the controller in his hand and the main screen behind Tobias came to life.

President Daniel Ryan appeared—his once-tanned face now looking gaunt and sallow. He was sitting at a desk in a room with the presidential seal attached to the wall behind him. He looked tired, his overall expression one of resignation.

As the camera focused on him, the fifty-six-year-old politician licked his lips and firmed his jaw, his dark eyes staring into the camera.

“Good evening,” he began. “I am broadcasting from a secure bunker outside what remains of Washington, D.C. I will explain to you in a moment how you are receiving this message when all other communications, including cellphones, TV and radio have been disrupted. In a moment, all will become clear.

“I have been in contact with most of the surviving world leaders, and they have authorized me to speak on their behalf. I can do this because from this day forward, all the inhabitants of the planet Earth will have a new identity, one that transcends countries, languages, politics and religious beliefs. From this day forward, we will all be known simply as Humans. I will now explain.

“Approximately eighteen hours ago, the planet Earth was savagely and indiscriminately attacked by military forces from an alien race called the Juireans. I know this is hard to believe, but you must. It’s true. These creatures came to our world to exterminate the Human race, and I mean every last man, woman and child on our world. As it turns out, these aliens were led here by one of our own, a traitor who has brought such death and destruction to the Human race as we have never before known.”

Adam went weak as his jaw fell open. He knew what was coming. Sherri placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. We know the truth,” she said.

The President continued. “I will not go into details about that now. As the days, weeks and months go forward you will learn more regarding this person. What I am here to tell you tonight is this: The worst of the attack is over…and the enemy has been completely destroyed!”

The President paused a few moments for affect before continuing.

“Even as one alien race has brought horrific death and destruction upon our world, another has come to our rescue. This other race is called the Klin, and they attacked the Juireans and destroyed their fleet, much to our eternal gratitude. In addition, at this very moment the Klin are providing much needed food, water and medical supplies to the people of the Earth. Also, they have advanced technologies which will allow them to extinguish the thousands of fires raging around the world and will bring new building materials and construction methods that will help us rebuild our cities in a fraction of the time it would normally take after such a disaster. In addition, they are blessing us with new energy sources which will allow us to have the power we need to rebuild our planet. With the Klin’s help, humanity will survive.

“I must be honest with you. Some of us have been aware of the Klin for a number of years, yet we could never have known the extent of gratitude we would feel toward them at this moment. Without their help, the Juireans would have exterminated everyone on the planet Earth.”

Ryan leaned forward, as a vein in his neck began to pulse. “But I have to tell every last surviving member of the Human race that our fight is not over. In fact, it has only just begun. The Juireans control a vast empire of thousands of stellar systems in the main part of the galaxy, so this conflict—this war—is in its infancy. The Juireans have been defeated in this battle. But they will return. Their military capacity is much more than what was defeated here today.

“We are at war, my fellow Humans. This is a fact we must all accept. And before you ask, there can be no negotiated peace. The Juireans do not negotiate for peace. These creatures are set to destroy us as a race, and they will not rest until we are gone.

“But we do not have to accept this fate. With the help of the Klin, we can fight back. We can fight with every ounce of our being to avenge the deaths of what I’m being told will be over one billion of your fellow Humans. One billion! One seventh of the entire population of the Earth, wiped out in a few short hours, and with no warning or provocation.

“We cannot—we will not—let this travesty go unanswered. We will fight! And we will fight for our very survival. And once that is accomplished, then we will continue to fight for our mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers—for all those who have died today—in a senseless and evil act of genocide. Call it revenge if you must, but the Human race will not let this act go unpunished. We cannot—we will not—let the Juireans get away with what they did to us today!”

The President’s voice trembled as his eyes became glassy with tears. It was several moments before he could continue. When he did, his voice was smoother, calmer.

“It has been learned that the Klin—our new friends and allies—have for the past fifty years been secretly recruiting people from Earth to help when their presence would eventually become known. The process has been long and secretive, as the Klin have sought to be brothers with Humanity with the least amount of shock or disruption. But they also needed the timing to be right. Unfortunately—because of this traitor to humanity—they had to act prematurely, coming to our rescue today, if even a few hours late. Since Earth’s gravity is much higher than the Klin are accustomed to, the assistance they are offering will be delivered through these honored individuals. These Human recruits are very familiar with Klin technology. They will lead us through our recovery and subsequent revenge against the Juireans. I beg you to give them all the cooperation and respect possible. They are here to help…they are our Saviors.”

He paused again to dab at the tears in his eyes before continuing.

“And as we dig ourselves out from under this planetary catastrophe and begin to rebuild, we must also begin preparing for the battles to come. The Klin have offered to help us build fleets of spaceships capable of defeating the Juireans. And they suggest—wisely—that we take the battle to them, rather than wait for the Juireans to regroup, rearm, and then return to our homeworld. We must return to them the terror they have brought to us. We must make them feel the pain we are feeling at this very moment…and more!

“I apologize if I sound emotional and vengeful, but I cannot help myself. When a billion of my fellow Humans are massacred so savagely, I can’t help it. And neither should you hold back the emotions you’re feeling. Every one of us who have survived will know someone who did not. This tragedy is greater than any we have ever experienced before.

“Our cause will now be greater than any before it. We are united now as one race—the Human Race—against an enemy which we are now being offered the means to defeat. We have no choice, my fellow Humans. It comes down to whether the Juireans will survive…or will it be the Humans. I choose the Humans!”

The President’s image was replaced with that of the Secretary of Homeland Security, Phyllis Conrad. She began by introducing herself to the rest of the world, and then went on to detail how the disaster relief was to be handled.

At Tobias’s nod, Jym cut the transmission.

There was a long moment of silence in the room, as each of the expatriates sought to absorb the President’s words. Then Tobias stood before them again.

“First of all, I want to say to Mister Cain that he has my full support and confidence. Everything he has told me regarding the Juireans and the actions of the Klin has come true. And now the Klin—the evil creatures who set up the attack by the Juireans—and who could have prevented it—are being welcomed on Earth as heroes, while Adam is being labeled a traitor. I know it’s not true, as do y’all. Regardless of what we think, this will be a terrible burden for him to carry. We must never let him believe he is carrying it alone. We have joined forces with him, and as such, will be labeled accomplices. I hope you’re okay with that, ’cause that’s just the way it is. And now there is something I must do. Mister Cain, can you please come up here?”

Adam was in a daze, his knees weak, but with Sherri’s prodding he rose to his feet and joined Lt. Tobias. As he turned to face the crowd in the room, spontaneous cheers and clapping rang out. Adam didn’t know what to do; he was embarrassed and humbled. Lt. Tobias put his hand on his shoulder, and then raised the other one to quiet the room. When they were silent, Lt. Tobias turned to Adam.

“Mister Cain, I know I’m the rankin’ officer aboard this ship, but I must defer to your expertise with regards to the field of battle we now find ourselves upon. Therefore, I’m awarding you a field commission to the rank of captain.” He held up his hand as Adam began to protest. “I don’t know if I’m authorized to do so, but I just did, so live with it, sailor. And the first thing that must be established in any complex organization is a chain of command. With your permission, Captain Cain, I have a few suggestions.”

Adam nodded awkwardly. “Yeah, sure,” was all he could manage.

“As Captain, you will be in charge. Then according to experience, I believe it should be Mister Tarazi and Ms. Valentine—sorry, I meant Sherri, as your adjutants with command rank. Then it will be me and Chief Rutledge. Our two alien friends, Kaylor and Jym, will be our resident expert consultants. Everyone should defer to them on all matters having to do with the foreign societies, ships and equipment we encounter. I also suggest—with the Captain’s permission, of course—that the scientists appoint a liaison who will speak on their behalf. The rest of you—SEALs and civilians—will all be integrated into a military-style chain of command. As time goes by, I’m sure there will be some adjustments to this order, but for now let’s see how it works. Any words…Captain Cain?”

Adam had never been a confident public speaker, but he was familiar with everyone in the room—with the exception of the scientists. He turned to them and surveyed the faces. Having just lived through the most harrowing year of his life—where everything he ever knew and loved was taken from him—Adam knew these men and women were in for the shock of their lives. He had to do all he could to help prepare them for it.

“Thank you…Mister Tobias. I only accept this commission because of the unique experience I have, along with Sherri and Riyad. It will not be long before all of you pollywogs are star-traveling shellbacks.” He forced a crooked grin, which quickly faded. He knew only a handful of the people in the audience would get his reference.

“But to get serious, the three of us escaped from the Klin and had to adapt to life in the alien universe by ourselves. Billy and Chris…even you and your men had each other for support. We had nobody to help us make it through. But as a result we survived in a variety of alien cultures, interacting and learning as we went. Personally, I was fortunate to have met Kaylor and Jym at the beginning, and they saved my life on more than one occasion. But as we all begin this new chapter in our lives, remember this: We now have each other. We are a team.” Cheers rose throughout the room. It took Adam and Tobias a minute to calm everyone down.

Adam continued: “You will find that we will often be the only members of our race for hundreds, if not thousands of light-years. We must stick together, we must support each other and we must always have each other’s backs.

“And on a more personal note, I want to thank each of you for believing in me. Some of you know the truth, while others are only taking my word for it. But I did not bring this tragedy upon the Human race.”

“We know,” some of the SEALs called out. “Hear, hear!” said some of the civilians.

“Thank you for that. I think that’s all for now. I don’t know about the rest of you, but for me it’s been one heluva couple of days.” They all laughed. “Let’s try to get some rest. There’s still a lot of work to be done.”

Chapter 34

The officers and non-comms left the mess decks and went to the captain’s quarters, along with Kaylor and Jym. Once there, the Humans continued to revel in the lighter gravity, something that wouldn’t hurt them in the short term. They spread out on various chairs and couches, before all eyes locked on Adam.

“Well, Captain Cain,” Sherri said with a smile, “I guess the big question is: ‘What do we do now?’”

Adam looked over at Tobias. “You know, I’ve been trying to figure out the Klin’s endgame. They’ve got their war, but it’s clear they don’t want either one of us to win.”

Chief Rutledge was the oldest person in the room at forty-two. With over twenty-two years in-service, he had been everywhere and done everything…at least on Earth. He was tough as nails and as mean as a banshee, and with a mind for tactics and strategy second to none.

“Simple…Captain Cain.” His smile was sincere. Adam and Rutledge had been in the shit together. They shared a bond going back several years. “Divide and conquer. The Klin are the odd-man-out—or aliens, in this case. Without our help, they can’t defeat the Juireans. And afterwards, they’re not about to just hand over the crown to us.”

“They will diminish each warring side before stepping on the victor,” Riyad said, picking up the narrative.”

“Exactly. They’ll do just enough to keep us fighting with the Juireans until all our resources are exhausted, while they sit back and let us do their dirty work.”

“It makes sense, Chief,” Adam said. “We’ve all been racking our brains trying to figure out why this has been happening to us.”

Adam turned to Tobias. “You said that Captain Allen had a mission for us. What mission?”

“The old man had a back-up plan if your suspicions came true and the negotiations broke down,” Tobias said. “If the Klin are going to get us into a war—which it looks like they have—then it was his reasoning it would be nice to have a strike force operating behind enemy lines.”

“That makes sense,” Adam said. “And we are uniquely qualified for the job.”

Andy Tobias shook his head. “You know, that’s something I can’t figure out: why us, why the Human race? Out of all the other species in the galaxy, the Klin chose us to fight their war for them.”

The three veterans—Adam, Riyad and Sherri—shared a knowing glance before Riyad explained. He began by flexing his muscles, Atlas-style.

“I don’t get it,” Tobias said, frowning.

Riyad put his arms down, disappointed. “We’re the supermen of the galaxy, Mister Tobias. I know you haven’t realized this yet—coming from a planet full of supermen—but you’ll learn soon enough.”

Tobias looked to Adam for more clarification. “What Riyad is trying to say is that Humans are much stronger, quicker and tougher that just about all the other races in the galaxy. The Klin must realize this, too. And not only that, but we have an intelligence level and fighting skill set that puts us several notches above even the Juireans. The problem is we haven’t learned how to fully utilize our talents, outside of being able to crush a few alien skulls with relative ease.”

“Our skills didn’t seem to make a big difference back on Earth a few days ago,” Rutledge said. “Even with advanced weaponry, unless we go hand-to-hand with these aliens, it will simply be technology against technology.”

“The Klin will see to it that we have the weapons necessary to hold our own against the Juireans, at least at first,” Sherri spoke for the first time, her voice dripping with venom. “They may also realize that with the right motivation, we Humans can be a vicious and savage race. After what just happened to us back on Earth, they’re hoping we’ll jump headlong into the fight without thinking too much about it.”

“And they’ll be correct,” Riyad said. “And I’m sure the Klin will see to it that we stay continually motivated.”

“What do you mean?” Kaylor asked, speaking for the first time.

“Atrocities,” was Riyad’s one-word answer. “Occasionally they’ll throw in a few mass killings of Humans, or desecration of the casualties, and then they’ll make sure the entire planet knows about it. It’s a well-developed tactic.”

Everyone in the room was aware of Riyad’s background, but they had all come to know and like him. None commented further on his statement. Instead they nodded their agreement.

Changing the subject, Sherri spoke again. “So how do we carry out this mission…if that’s what we end up doing?”

It was Tobias’s turn. “As our forces move toward the enemy, it will be our job to identify munitions dumps, supply lines, communication channels and the like. Then we start disruptin’ them all. We need to soften up the enemy before our forces get there. This is really the job of Army Rangers. SEALs are primarily for extraction and target elimination.”

“Assassinations,” Riyad stated.

“If need be. But we’re normally not cut-out for prolonged operations behind the lines, just quick in and quick out operations.”

“We’ll do fine,” Adam said. “We’re not going up against other Humans. In fact, most of the alien planets within the Expansion—with the exception of the Juireans—don’t even maintain standing armies, just local police and security forces. And even the Juireans may be ill-prepared to fight a prolonged campaign.”

“That is true,” Jym said. “The Juireans have not fought a major war in a thousand years. You remember, in the entire Fringe they had fewer than twenty warships. But there is another factor to consider.”

“What’s that?” Adam asked.

“It’s the other Members of the Expansion.”

“Adam just said that most of ’em don’t have a military,” said Tobias.

“That’s correct. But for a long time, the galaxy has been stable with the Juireans in charge. No one will want a major war to disrupt things. And since the Humans will be seen as the invaders, I doubt you will receive much support.”

Tobias nodded his head for several seconds. “That’s a very good point, Mister Jym—”

“My full name is Jym Sollom-Rognillin-Cacas, but we do not use the last names. And we do not have prefixes.”

“Sorry; my mistake, simply-Jym.” Tobias and Adam shared a glance. Adam had warned him about the tiny alien’s volatile temperament. “Are there any groups who would like to be free of the Juireans?”

Kaylor had watched the interaction between the Humans and Jym and decided it was time for him to speak up. “There may be a few. The Nimorians have never been happy with the Expansion, and neither have the Rigorians. But in the case of the Nimorians, they would miss the trade and technology they receive from the Expansion. And the Rigorians would just as soon rule the galaxy as help someone else do it. As far as races farther into the Expansion, I am not sure. However, the farther we do go in, the more influence the Juireans have in those Sectors.”

“Then it sounds like we’ll be operating pretty much on our own, with just those we have aboard and our one ship.” Tobias’s tone wasn’t encouraging.

“There may be some other Humans we can recruit,” Adam said. All eyes turned to him, but before he could explain Sherri was speaking.

“The non-converts on Calamore! There are supposed to be about a thousand people there who would not join the 2G’s. There’s also a bunch of women that have been used to produce the 2G army.” Her enthusiasm dropped. “But the 2G’s have probably killed them all by now.”

“Where are they? A place called Calamari?” Rutledge asked.

“No, Calamore.” Adam said. “We also don’t know exactly where it is. We have an idea, but it may take some searching to find it. But if we do, we could potentially have a small army of our own…and all Human. A thousand Humans are worth ten thousand alien combatants.”

Tobias looked around the room. “It’s obvious we can’t keep another thousand people aboard this ship. We’ll need more. Any ideas?”

“I’ve been kicking around an idea in my head for a while that would use Riyad’s skills at acquiring pirate ships, and then crew them with the non-converts from Calamore,” Adam offered.

“I could do that,” Riyad said. “And I might be able to round up a decent-size group of mercenaries, if we could pay them, either in money or bounty. And I have a debt to settle with an old friend who just might provide us with the start-up capital we would need for such a venture.” That devious smile was on his face again.

“Sounds like a plan is coming together,” Adam said with a smile. “Now all we have to do now is find Calamore—and hope we’re not too late.”

A few minutes after the staff meeting adjourned, the Juirean battlecruiser changed course and headed for the Rigor side of the Barrier. The trip would take three months, three months during which anything could happen to the prisoners on Calamore—if tragedy hadn’t already befallen them.

Calamore was located in a three-star cluster on the Earth side of the Barrier, and Adam thought this might be where the scientists could come in handy, helping to identify possible targets. He paired up the two astrophysicists in the crew with Jym and his nav computer. Soon Darryl Symington and Carol Nash were hunched over star charts and computer models with the furry alien as if they were life-long friends.

Carol Nash was elected the liaison for the scientists and became a regular attendee of most of their planning sessions. She was forty-nine, a graduate of Stanford, and had spent most of her career teaching physics and advanced mathematics at UC Berkeley. Growing tired of academia—and needing a change after a bitter divorce—the childless astrophysicist decided to become more involved in the practical side of physics. She joined a research team at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, California, before being transferred to the Cape, where she worked on various shuttle missions until the program was shut down in 2011. Since then, she worked as a special projects manager for the emerging-technologies division of NASA.

She had been awakened in the early morning and flown from Houston to Hampton, Virginia, with no satisfactory explanation coming as to why—not until she walked into the hangar at Langley Air Force Base. That was when all her complaining ceased.

She and a team of diverse scientists and engineers were tasked with examining the alien spacecraft Adam had brought to Earth. Unfortunately, they had spent the first two days developing investigative protocols before beginning the actual examination. Little did they know, their time with the alien spacecraft was limited.

When the first fireballs began to strike the base, the scientists had gone outside to see what was happening. Thinking at first they were experiencing a deadly meteor shower, the scientists didn’t panic, beyond how one would normally react to a natural disaster of this magnitude. But soon they noticed the precision of the strikes and concluded they were being directed. They retreated back to the hangar to begin debating what they should do next.

They debated for four hours—until the time Adam Cain and his group arrived at the hangar.

Watching the alien spaceship be prepared for flight had sent Carol’s heart racing. Her mind had been a jumble of contradictions—as well as possibilities—as the reality of an alien attack from space dawned on her. The science fiction movies were coming true; how she reacted to that reality took her completely by surprise.

Carol was one of the first ones to sprint to the spaceship. With no children or husband to consider, she made a spontaneous decision. A lifetime of dreams were about to come true, if only for a few hours. She truly believed she would die that day, but at least she would die in space.

And now—over the course of eighteen days—Carol Nash had lifted off the surface of the Earth, met real-life aliens and experienced faster-than-light travel. If ever there was a kid in a candy store, it was Carol Nash at this very moment.

In addition to that, Carol and Sherri had bonded; after all, Sherri hadn’t spoken with another Human female in over three years. It had been either aliens or men, and most of the time Sherri couldn’t decide which she preferred.

Adam returned to his cabin after a particularly long-day of training and planning, marveling at how quickly the others were adapting to their new existence. He knew this was just the beginning, but still he envied them in a way. They had essentially volunteered for this journey—even Billy’s non-converts made the conscious decision to return to space.

But Adam was unique. He had to leave the planet or suffer the consequences. After all, he was Adam Cain: The Man Who Betrayed The Human Race. Move over Hitler; there’s a new bad guy in town.

As he lay on the large, Juirean-size bed in his stateroom, feeling the fingers of sleep begin to reach out to him, Adam tried to accept his situation. Even with the negatives, he had now had a purpose, a mission to help his people. But it would also give him the opportunity to exact revenge on those who had murdered his innocent wife and child. He might even find evidence to clear his name.

A new future was on the horizon for Adam Cain. He was the Captain, with a ship and crew. His destiny was his own.

And with that thought lingering in his head, Adam fell into a deep, satisfying sleep, the first he had enjoyed in over a year.

Chapter 35

The planet Juir was not what one would expect from the capital world of a galaxy-wide empire.

Instead of concrete and skyscrapers for as far as the eye could see, the planet had preserved most of its open space and forests, and the settlements that did dot the landscape were studies in harmonious integration with the surrounding ecosystems.

It had not always been like this. Early in the history of the Alliance, Juirean cities were well on their way to becoming sprawling eyesores upon the surface. Yet as more worlds were brought under Juirean domination, the leaders decided to outsource most of the heavy industrial and manufacturing operations—as well as the day-to-day administrative centers—to any number of available candidate worlds. This left the planet Juir to evolve into a shining example of urban planning at its best.

Most of the government buildings were pyramidal in shape and style, with ample use of shimmering bronze glass and sparkling gold accents. Fountains of crystal clear water were everywhere, and greenbelts of perfectly manicured lawns coursed their way around the buildings, along transport lines and through areas of aesthetically-designed forests and groves.

Even though there were transport lines snaking across the surface of the planet, most mass transit was underground or through the air. There was no traffic to speak of, nor the frenetic pace found on other capitals throughout the Expansion.

The Juireans had established their breeding facilities and educational centers on many of the nearby worlds of the Cluster. The military academy was on Sellon, while most of the manufacturing activities were centered on the eighteen worlds near the Core and had served as such for over three thousand years. What this left was a capital world that was designed exclusively for the most senior of Juirean officials, with no need to jam all the functions of governing onto one overcrowded planet.

Juirean officials who had the pleasure of serving on the home planet often moved about in casual, relaxed states of mind, enjoying the fresh air and temperate climate, while dealing with the responsibilities of an empire spanning over eight thousand worlds.

The headquarters of the Juirean Council was located in the grandest building of them all, a kilometer high pyramid of glass and gold that sat atop the Kacoran Plain, directly on top of the site of the First Contact. Within its massive structure was a monument dedicated to the event, taking up the very core of the building. Placed around the monument, were the oversize statues of Malor the Great and Arolus Ra Un, the two most-revered Juireans in history, and builders of what would eventually become the Juirean Expansion.

At the very zenith of the building sat the Council Chambers, a hundred meter square room surrounded by angled walls of sparkling bronze glass and topped by a golden point at the very peak of the building. No doorways disturbed the 360-degree view from the Chambers, as entry was gained through a stairway in the floor. And in the center of the room was a vast round table of polished Kacoran granite, with seating for the forty members of the Council Elite.

At the time, the room was occupied by only three Juireans, including Hydon Ra Elys. Hydon was the current Council Elder and as such was the most powerful being in the galaxy.

The label of ‘Elder’ didn’t mean Hydon was the oldest member of the Council. Rather, he had attained his position partially by bloodline, but mainly through ability. He had never pined for the position, although it had been decided long ago that Hydon would serve on the Council. But as the years passed, and crises were debated and solutions developed, it became apparent to all that Hydon was a cut above the rest.

The past Elder was still on the Council; Juireans did not advance in status based upon the deaths of those above them. Rather, a simple vote had been taken when it became obvious that Hydon possessed better analytical abilities than the current Elder. At that moment, Hydon simply became The Elder, and everything proceeded as normal. It had all been quite uneventful, as the ascension process was designed to be.

But with high position came high responsibility, so Hydon now found himself in the Council Chambers, accompanied by only the Supreme Military Guard, Fleet Marshal Relion Fe Lans, and Elite Member Juls Ve Kikel, the most-senior political advisor on the Council.

Hydon held the datapad in his hand and felt his entire body go weak. This was stunning news, unbelievable news, yet Hydon had no doubt that every word in the young Guard’s report was accurate. Over the course of the past two weeks, Hydon and the Council had received many corroborating reports, yet this one was from an actual eyewitness.

The entire fleet had been destroyed.

After reading the report, Hydon concluded that its author—the Guard Rillor—had been allowed to escape the area with the few ships under his command. It was obvious these Humans wanted the Juirean Council to know what they had done to the greatest mass of Juirean warships in over a thousand years. And they wanted Hydon to know how effortlessly they had achieved such a lopsided victory.

Hydon found this part of the report to be vaguely disingenuous. The fleet had been lured to Earth and then ambushed. The results may have been dramatically different if it had been a stand-up fight. But the fact still remained that now the Expansion’s military forces on the far side of the galaxy had been decimated, leaving that part of the galaxy vulnerable to a Human invasion.

Hydon had been aware of the Human threat for the past six months, yet he often heard of them spoken in the same breath along with the Klin. Now it appeared as though the Humans were the true threat that must be addressed.

The Klin! Yes, they did exist, as Hydon felt most Juireans secretly believed. The Reckoning had killed billions of them, but they didn’t get them all. And the fact that no one had seen or heard from the Klin in nearly four thousand years led many to believe that there was a reason for their hiding, a reason beyond the simple fact that they would be killed should they show their faces within the Expansion. The Klin were planning something, and it was this fear of an unknown retaliation that stirred many a young Juirean from his sleep, drenched in sweat, after another Klin-based nightmare.

Through the passage of time, the Juireans had been able to put into perspective what a tragic and cruel act they had committed on the Klin people. Yes, the Juireans had been humiliated by the Klin, but was that a reason to destroy an entire population?

Some Juireans questioned the legitimacy of the argument for The Reckoning, but what was done was done. Even if the Klin did reappear, there could be no reconciliation. Too much time had passed, too much fear and guilt permeated the race. The feud between the Juireans and Klin was what it was and would always be. There was no going back.

The Juireans had eliminated four other races throughout the millennia, but that had only been after protracted wars with these adversaries. They had been fights to the death, and the Juireans won.

The Reckoning—on the other hand—had been planned and executed in secret, much like the campaign against the Humans. But unlike the Klin, the Humans were waiting for them.

The report stated that the attack upon the planet Earth had commenced prior to the fleet being destroyed. That would mean millions, if not billions of Human dead. That was not something one could back away from. The die had been cast. This would be another case of no turning back.

The Juirean Expansion and the Human race were at war.

Hydon addressed Fleet Marshal Relion first. “What is the status of our forces in the higher Sectors?”

“Thin, my Lord. Overlord Yan’wal pulled most of the larger warships from the neighboring Sectors to build his fleet. We have managed to step up production of new ships, as well as consolidate the few remaining ships into Sector 17. There are currently ninety-two fleet ships in the region. Yet in light of the reported size of the Human fleet, this force is woefully inadequate to hold the Sector should an invasion come soon.”

“What about the new ships?”

“We are producing new ones at the rate of two per day, yet the production rate is not the problem, it’s the crews. We have ample Juirean leadership for them, yet not enough trained supplemental beings. We are beginning an all-out recruitment and training operation to help overcome this handicap.”

Hydon turned to Elite Member Juls next. “How are the Members reacting to the loss of the fleet? We have obviously not been able to contain the news.”

“No, we have not, my Lord. It is clear that the news of Yan’wal’s defeat has already spread throughout the Expansion. There appears to be a stunned disbelief among the Members. This has shaken their confidence in our leadership.”

“How is this affecting recruitment?”

“Mixed. It is down on the more-affluent worlds, yet up in the poorer sections. The attraction to gaining employment aboard a Juirean warship depends on the economic conditions on the Member worlds. We should be able to meet Fleet Marshal Relion’s requirements, just not in a very timely manner.”

“An estimate?”

“Within a year.”

Hydon grimaced at the news. He did not believe they had that much time before the Human invasion would commence. The original message had spoken of a three-year timeline, but that had turned out to have been a ruse. The Humans were ready now.

Hydon surveyed the faces of his subordinates. Neither expressed any fear nor apprehension. They were professionals and would act as such.

“We cannot afford to have this situation get out of hand. From what the eyewitness report relates, the Humans appear to be a single-planet race. They may have a vast number of ships and advance weaponry, but there are only so many bodies they can commit to the war effort. As a last resort, we can win through attrition. But that will take time, as well as major loss of life on our side. This means more of our Member worlds will suffer casualties. This will not go over well from a political standpoint.”

“What do you suggest, my Lord,” Relion asked.

“First, we must make a stand in Sectors 17, 16 and 15 with what forces we can muster. We must attempt to inflict as many casualties on the Humans as possible, while the bulk of our new fleet is in preparation. Then we must pull back. If the Humans can be drawn farther into Expansion territory, they will find it more difficult to supply their forces and to bring up reinforcements. We engage only when necessary. The war may be longer, but we will preserve the goodwill of our Members by sparing as many of their recruits as possible.”

Hydon paused and looked out the window at the green fields stretching out below the Kacoran Plain and all the way to the Southern Ocean beyond. “These Humans cannot seriously believe they have a legitimate chance of defeating the Expansion? Our numbers are too large to be overcome. We will prevail. They must know this.”

“Then why are they embarking down this path?” Juls asked.

“That, Lord Juls, I do not know.”

Chapter 36

The Juirean battlecruiser actually had some pretty impressive astronomical facilities aboard, and soon the two giddy scientists were able to isolate six systems that fit the requirements for the location of the star system containing the planet Calamore. During the three month journey, Tobias and Chief Rutledge had the SEALs training the non-converts on weapons and tactics in the ship’s main landing bay.

The landing bay was perfect for the training. It had been originally designed to carry up to twenty landing craft, along with six inter-ship transport pods. The six pods were still in the bay, but the only landing craft remaining was the one Adam had taken from Zylim-4. So for several weeks, the cavernous chamber echoed with the muffled sounds of barrel-suppressed gunfire, along with the bombastic voices of Tobias and Rutledge, as they sought to mold the non-converts into some sort of cohesive fighting unit.

Many of the non-converts had prior military training, but none had experienced the level of preparedness that went into a SEAL unit. So after just a few days of training, it had become obvious that there wouldn’t be enough time to bring them up to speed. Instead, it was decided that the non-converts would be trained as support personnel, to be used in equipment maintenance, intelligence gathering and as reserve forces should the need arise.

Adam, Rutledge and Tobias decided on only a superficial integration of the other non-converts on Calamore into their forces. After all, they weren’t even certain they were still alive. The Chief was also quick to point out that even with a thousand additional bodies, these people may actually hinder their operations rather than help. SEALs operate in small, tight-knit units, with their team skills sharpened to a very fine edge. Trying to integrate non-SEALs into actual combat operations could prove problematic.

Even so, a thousand-plus additional Humans couldn’t hurt, Adam reasoned, not in the environment he and Riyad described to the still-skeptical SEALs. A thousand extra ‘supermen’ certainly was an intimidating thought. How exactly they would be utilized was more a mental exercise at this time rather than any real operational planning on their part.

Adam spent much of his time in the landing bay, working out with the SEALs and firing real Human weapons, something he hadn’t done in quite a while. He enjoyed the solid feel of the M4A1 in his hands and reveled at the sure sound of the rounds being expelled, as well as the scent of gunpowder in the air. Tobias and his men had brought around a hundred thousand rounds of ammunition in the two supply trucks, but even then, they had to be frugal in their use of training rounds.

Tobias had explained that Captain Allen would be developing a clandestine unit that would attempt to communicate with him and his group, as well as provide needed supplies as the war progressed. To further this goal, Adam checked with Kaylor and found that the Juirean battleship carried in her cargo holds an ample supply of encodable communication buoys. Immediately upon leaving the Solar System, they began to drop the buoys at designated intervals along their path. If anything, Adam’s advance force would be able to communicate with Allen back on Earth. How he would resupply them was anyone’s guess.

None of the SEALs aboard had any idea how Captain Allen would create his undercover unit, directly under the watchful eye of the Klin and the 2G’s. But if anyone could, it would be Nate Allen.

Discussions aboard the Juirean Class Five starship also had the leadership agreeing that the Klin would not be too supportive of a rear-action unit in Juirean territory operating outside their control. Adam’s unit would have to be ever-watchful for the Klin and their 2G surrogates. They were as much the enemy as the Juireans.

Chapter 37

The planet Earth was in shambles, yet with the help of the Human recruits, it was recovering quickly.

As promised, all the millions of fires raging across the planet were extinguished in a matter of days after the attack. The largest of these fires was snuffed out within two days, and over the next three weeks, power was restored to the world and ample food became available. Millions of shelters went up virtually overnight.

The surviving and traumatized inhabitants of the planet Earth cried with thanks to their Saviors—as the recruits were now called, picking up on a line from President Ryan’s global speech—as well as the word Savior emblazoned across the breast pocket of their light blue tunics.

As the world settled into a state of determined existence, the survivors began the difficult task of burying their dead. The final tally would never be one-hundred percent accurate, but the number was somewhere just over one billion souls. It was a number so large, so staggering, that no one could truly comprehend its reality. One-seventh of the planet’s population was dead, having been wiped out in a span of only four short hours.

Washington, D.C. had suffered catastrophic destruction, along with all the other major population centers around the world. However, the Juireans didn’t know the significance of the American capital. Fourteen bolts had landed within the city limits, but remarkably, the White House and the Pentagon had been spared major damage. A bolt had struck on the east side of the Capitol, and that building now sat as a burned out hulk. Early on it was decided to keep the remains as a monument to the disaster. No one protested the decision.

Not surprisingly, cities like New York, Tokyo, Hong Kong, Mexico City and Rio de Janeiro were the most heavily hit. Chicago and London also suffered their fair share of damage, while Los Angeles was spared almost completely, thanks to the fact that it was spread out over such a large area and that the bolts that hit in the area didn’t have specific targets to strike.

Almost immediately after the destruction of the Juirean fleet, the surviving leaders of the planet began to communicate—thanks to the Klin technology. A meeting was convened at the Pentagon within eighteen days of the attack, with the Klin ambassador in attendance.

President Danny Ryan slammed the blue and white presidential coffee cup down upon the polished wood surface of the conference table, sending a deafening clap throughout the room. If it had not been for the fact that the cup was of a quality and thickness befitting the President, the cup would have surely shattered in his hand.

“I can’t believe this!” the President yelled. “After having been so savagely attacked by a force from off planet, we are still squabbling over things like nationalities.”

Henri Balladur, the President of the French Republic, met Ryan’s steely stare with one of his own. “The Americans have dominated the world’s military command for long enough. Now that your country is as ineffectual as the rest of us, I see no reason for this practice to continue.”

“This has nothing to do with nationality, Henri, and everything to do with experience.”

“None of our military leaders have experience with fighting an alien foe,” the Frenchman countered.

“But it does have to with the planning and execution of military operations. Whether they’re against other Humans—or against aliens—the process is still the same. And how much experience does General Troyat have compared to Admiral Keller?”

“I just want to go on the record that I am against the appointment of another American to the position of Supreme Military Commander for the Earth’s forces. General Troyat would make a fine commander.”

“And in our defense, Admiral Keller has been involved in the planning and execution of over seventy major military operations in the past ten years. None of the candidates placed for consideration have nearly that many. And he has access to the planet’s most advanced military technology—”

“Not anymore,” said the Russian Premier, Vladimir Gorin.

Exasperated, Ryan sat back in his chair and looked at the faces around the table. Even in light of such an incredible threat from outside, these politicians still couldn’t put aside their differences for the good of the Human race.

“I, for one, believe that this Supreme Commander should come from a country that suffered the most during the attack.” The Brazilian ambassador looked around the table to see if he could read any agreement on the faces of the others. Not seeing many nods, he continued, “Brazil suffered the most loss as a percentage of its population as any country on Earth.”

“That was because most of your population was crowded into your coastal cities of Rio and Sao Paulo,” said the British Prime Minister, Bernard Conrad. “I believe we should follow President Ryan’s lead, and go with the most-experienced.”

“What do you think, Mr. Ambassador?” the French President asked, as all attention shifted to Senior Fellow Lumonsee, seated in his wheelchair at the head of the table.

The Klin was silent for a long moment as he contemplated their situation. “I can see the logic in most of your comments. However, this is a Human decision that must be made. Just rest assured that whomever you choose will have all the assistance the senior Recruits can provide. I do believe it is very important to turn over the figurehead authority for the war against the Juireans to a non-Recruit Human, and that it must be done soon. The fleet should depart for Juirean territory within three months if you are to gain any advantage over them.”

“I say we just vote and get this over with,” said an impatient Konrad Kruger, the German Chancellor. “After all, this is more of a symbolic position than that of a real tactical commander. Like Henri said, none of us have any experience fighting a war against aliens. It will be the Klin and the Recruits who make all the real decisions.”

There were nods of agreement around the table. The vote was taken, and Ryan was glad to see that reason triumphed over emotion. Admiral William Keller would be the new Supreme Military Commander for the Planet Earth.

Yet even in this small victory, Ryan had no intention of making Keller’s role symbolic, as the German Chancellor had suggested. Ryan was determined to win this war against the Juireans, and not just play back up to the Klin and their so-called Recruits. Besides, it irked him to no end that people were now calling these people Saviors. Yes, they had stopped the Juirean attack, yet Ryan was still skeptical of the Klin claim that they couldn’t have prevented more death and destruction.

Right after this conference adjourned, the President was to meet with his own senior military advisors to discuss American options for the execution of the war effort.

Chapter 38

President Ryan had set up a war room/residence complex in the ‘E’ ring of the Pentagon. It was a series of large and secure rooms, with sets of south-facing windows. Ryan spent most of his time in the Complex these days, rather than the White House. He had even set up a bedroom in an adjoining office, and his military chefs made sure he was taken care of as if he was still in the official residence.

He had decided to keep his wife and children in their huge home in San Diego, rather than bring them back to the White House. He could never be sure that another attack of some kind wouldn’t befall them. Besides, his family never did acclimate to D.C., not when one could enjoy Pacific Ocean views from nearly every room in his California home.

Admiral Keller had been waiting in an anteroom outside the Pentagon’s main conference room, anxious to see if he would be put in command of the war effort against the aliens. Even though he had no idea exactly how he would wage the war, he was chomping at the bit to get started.

William Keller was a sailor through and through. He had graduated the Naval Academy in 1982, and immediately set out climbing the ranks as a fleet officer aboard frigates, then CG’s and finally as captain of the USS Ronald Reagan. After five years aboard the carrier, he was advanced to Admiral (lower) and transferred to MacDill Air Force Base in Tampa, as the head of the Joint Special Operations Command, or SOCOM.

It was while at SOCOM that Admiral Keller first met then-Lt. Commander Nate Allen. Keller immediately took to the gung-ho SEAL and helped Allen in his rise to higher rank. He was especially proud when he heard that Nate had made admiral, and even in light of recent events, had been able to put on his star the day after the alien attack.

Keller received a brief nod from President Ryan as he exited the conference room. That was it; he was now the man who would lead the Human war effort against the Juireans. Even though he was ecstatic inside, he simply nodded back to his Commander-in-Chief, and then fell in step with him as they returned to the Complex. Admiral Allen would be waiting for them.

As they entered the outer office of the war room, an Air Force technician was just leaving the main room, a bundle of equipment in his arms.

“All secure, sir,” the tech-sergeant said as they passed.

“Thank you, sergeant,” Keller said. For several days, surveillance devices had been showing up throughout the Pentagon. None had been located where the President worked and resided, but one could never be too cautious.

Nate Allen rose from the couch at the far end of the room when the Commander-in-Chief entered. “How did it go, Mister President?” Allen asked.

“Bill got the job, but it was like pulling teeth,” the President replied as he walked to the wet bar and filled three tumblers with a potent brown liquid. He scooped up the three glasses in his hands and then passed them out to his pair of admirals. He took his glass to the large desk set to the right side of the room and sat down heavily. Then he took a long swig.

He felt the liquor burn all the way to his stomach, as the two officers took seats in front of his desk. “They still insist on squabbling over stupid things,” the President griped. “They each want to gain some clout back in their respective countries. They can’t see how serious this is.”

“You would think that after a billion dead, they would see this as a fight for survival of the race, and not just their own countries,” Allen said. Each of the men shared a relaxed relationship, especially now. The protocols of rank and office did not apply throughout most of their meetings together.

The President finished off his drink, and then turned his attention to Allen. “So what have you found out? Were you right?”

Allen opened the folder he had in his lap and took out several photographs. He laid them out on the desk where they all could see. “It looks like it, sir.” The photographs were just an assortment of bright, oblong objects set against a black background. And near the objects were streaks of more brilliant white, pointing at the oblong objects.

“I got these from observatories around the world, and you can clearly see where the Klin energy bolts came from near-point-blank range to most of the Juirean ships. I’ve consulted with whatever experts we have about this sort of thing, and they say there was no way the Klin could have gotten their ships in this close without being detected. Their energy signatures would have been noticed long before this.”

“So they were already there.” The President’s face began to turn red.

“It looks like it. They were powered down so that the Juireans wouldn’t detect them.”

“Yet they didn’t fire when they could have and prevented the first salvos from being sent out,” Admiral Keller stated, his words hanging heavy in the air.

After a moment, Allen spoke again. “No they didn’t, Bill. They let the Juireans attack. This is just what Cain suspected.”

“And I threw him under the bus,” said the President of the United States.

“You had no way of knowing at the time, Mister President,” Keller said. “It was the narrative the Klin were looking for. They needed a scapegoat to present to the world, and Cain was it.” He looked over at Allen. “Unfortunately, it was one of your people. Did they ever find the body?”

Both the President and Keller recoiled slightly when they saw a wide grin stretch across Allen’s face. “Yes, they did,” he answered. “Alive and well…and currently back in space.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Nate?” the President asked.

“I managed to get Cain out just as the first salvos hit. He and Lt. Andy Tobias were able to take the alien landing craft back into space. They rendezvoused with the Juirean battlecruiser and are now heading to Juirean space to begin a seek-and-destroy mission to help soften the Juireans for our invasion.”

The President shook his head, while Keller continued to stare, open-mouthed, at his junior admiral.

“How do you know all this?” Keller finally asked.

“I established communications with them yesterday. I knew they’d gotten off the planet, but that was all I was sure of until then. I assumed they were destroyed, along with the Juirean fleet. I was wrong, and now they’re laying communication buoys along their route.”

“This is incredible news, Nate,” Ryan said, a look of excitement on his face that had been missing for nearly a month, not since before the Juireans attacked. “So what are your plans?”

“With your permission, sir, I would like to set up a clandestine operation based out of Nellis Air Force Base in Nevada. I will need to resupply Cain, which will involve me having access to a few of the Klin spaceships, and without them knowing about it. Also, I will be receiving intel from Cain’s Team as their mission progresses.”

“Who’s with them?”

“There’s a force of eighteen SEALs, along with fifteen of the men that Cain brought back with him. He also has Sherri Valentine and Riyad Tarazi. Oh, and he even picked up seven of the scientists who were examining the shuttle.”

“Amazing, simply amazing,” Ryan stated. “This should help, if they don’t get themselves killed right away.”

“I’m sure they’ll be careful. Cain, Tarazi and Valentine are the only Humans who have operated freely within Juirean territory. And in light of this new information,” he tapped the photos on the desk, “I don’t think we can trust our new Human friends very much. Cain’s assertion was that the Klin set up this entire war between us and the Juireans, resulting in the needless deaths of a billion of our people.”

The President’s face turned even a deeper shade of red. “And I called those bastards our Saviors,” he said. “This also complicates things. I can’t simply go accuse the Klin ambassador of masterminding the killing of a billion Human beings. He may just pick up his toys and go home. Then where would we be against another Juirean attack? No, this is going to have to be played very carefully. We have two enemies to fight, one overt and the other covert. Frankly, this is going to be a bitch.”

The two admirals looked at each other, wicked smiles on their faces. Keller turned back to the President. “That’s what we’re good at, Mr. President. The Klin picked the Human race for a reason; because we know how to fight. Someday—hopefully—they’ll find that they’ve bitten off more than they can chew.”

Chapter 39

After spending nearly a week hopping from one system to another, analyzing the data from various candidate worlds, Adam and his scientists were pretty sure they’d found the planet Calamore.

They stationed the huge Juirean battlecruiser on the far side of the planet’s single moon, and then Adam sent Riyad and a couple of the scientists out in the landing craft to monitor the planet with equipment relayed through the shuttle’s computers. Over the next two days, they surveyed the planet, using high resolution cameras to photograph the entire surface.

When Riyad returned, the SEALs and scientists huddled over the photos and videos for another day, until they could conclusively say this was indeed the planet Calamore.

What the data revealed was a planet that was slightly warmer than Earth and with a surface gravity equal to about .97 of their homeworld. They also identified the Klin base. Where the bulk of the planet was undeveloped, there was a large settlement measuring approximately twenty-five kilometers square that stuck out like a sore thumb against the forested backdrop of the planet. It was the only settlement of its kind on the surface.

Once the target was identified, Chief Rutledge sent one of the small inter-ship shuttle pods down to the planet with a team of three SEALs. They landed about twenty klicks from the settlement then approached the rest of the way on foot. They set up a small base camp just on the other side of a small rise from the compound spent the next three days gathering intelligence. They employed a number of remote-controlled drones to record the compound, including the surrounding topography.

The SEALs also learned that the dominant species on the planet was a race of large ape-like creatures resembling silverbacks on Earth. Yet these apes were a lot more civilized. They congregated in villages with tiny thatch-roof huts. They even had a primitive language. The natives of Calamore were well on their way to building a society of their own—if they were allowed to.

The SEALs avoided the silverbacks as best they could, but there was another threat on the planet. The large, semi-civilized mammals coexisted with dinosaur-like creatures, even though these beasts weren’t to the gargantuan scale of Earth’s. Still, there were raptor-sized creatures that had to be shooed away from the base camp on several occasions. Luckily, Adam and his group weren’t planning on spending too much time on the surface after the assault was over.

After three days, the SEALs returned to the battlecruiser with their treasure trove of intel, after which the news spread throughout the ship that the prisoners were alive. Their journey had not been in vain. There were Humans to be rescued.

Chief Rutledge, Lt. Tobias, Adam and Riyad next locked themselves away in Adam’s quarters for the next day, putting together the final plans for the assault of Calamore.

Once finalized, they called the crew together on the mess decks, where an image of the compound was projected on the main screen. Chief Rutledge laid out the plan.

“Thanks to the work of Mario, John and Keith, we have a pretty good idea what we’re up against.” Rutledge used a laser pointer to highlight certain areas of the image. “There are four main sections within the compound.” His pointer landed on a round structure toward the southwest corner of the settlement. “This appears to be a power plant of some kind. Infrared didn’t pick up anybody near or in the building, so it appears to be fully automated. If we need to cut power to the compound, this will be our target.

“This large area to the north is the spaceport.” His pointer highlighted an area that took up about a quarter of the entire compound, and was dotted with dozens, if not hundreds of perfectly round circles indicating where spaceships had once rested. “There’s over two hundred landing pads. We’ve also detected five pads near this row of hangars and other buildings along the perimeter of the landing field that still have ships on them. It will be a priority that we keep these ships intact and from launching. We will not be able to defend against an attack from the air, and if our mission is successful, we will need these ships to evac the prisoners.

“Next is this large area to the east.” The section of the picture looked like a box inside a box, with several buildings located inside and outside of the inner wall. “This is where they’re keeping the male prisoners. There’s a wall surrounding the community within the compound, which appears to be pretty well established. They have crop rows, livestock of some kind, and even a large meeting hall. This facility is guarded by eight watchtowers located along the top of the wall. Only three appear to be manned at any given time. We figure that the planet itself has been a pretty good deterrent against escape.

“Next is this series of buildings near the center of the compound. This is the only other area that appears to have clusters of people in it. The drones were able to spot several women in this area. We counted about one hundred wearing yellow tops, and around eighty wearing green tops.”

“What’s the significance?” someone asked.

“The women in the green tops stay in these four buildings almost exclusively, while the ones in the yellow tops stay here, and appear to mingle with the men in the compound more often.”

“I think I have a theory about that,” Sherri said. “I know that the Klin took women from Earth to become breeders for them, but I’ve often wondered what happened to the female babies. Wouldn’t it be easier just to take all the girl babies and raise them the Klin way, to be breeders themselves? That way they wouldn’t have to deal with native-borns, and all the resistance we would give. A bunch of obedient, 2G baby-making machines would be much easier to handle. The ones in the yellow could be the 2G women.”

“That would make them the enemy, right?” Chris asked.

Rutledge nodded. “That’s correct. We count about sixty-two of the 2G men in the compound. If we add another hundred or so women to that number, it could complicate the mission.”

Adam stood from his seat next to Tobias. “Our primary objective will be to rescue the men and to secure the Klin spaceships. In addition, we have no desire to kill any of the women, unless we have to. Once the first two objectives are secure—being the spacecraft and the male prisoner compound—then we’ll converge on the women’s location and take them prisoner. We’ll sort things out at that time. Sherri will approach the women in green first. We’re pretty sure they’re being kept against their will.”

“Very good, Captain Cain,” said Rutledge with a sliver of a smile. “Since the compound area is so large, we will need the assistance of Chris and his men in the assault. Mr. Tarazi, along with two of the SEALs, will lead Chris and his men against the spaceport. There doesn’t appear to be a lot of security around the ships, or the entire compound for that matter. Everyone seems bored out of their minds. Also, from close-in imaging, we find that most of the 2G males are very young, barely teenagers, and probably too young and inexperienced to accompany the fleet that went to Earth. Unfortunately, we do not have the manpower to consider taking a lot of prisoners, at least not around the spaceport and the prisoner compound. Once we have the non-converts and the ships, we’ll be leaving. There will be no need to hold the ground once we have met our objectives.

“Mr. Tobias and I will be at the command post coordinating the attack and monitoring the drones that we’ll have over the target. Captain Cain and nine of the SEALs will be designated Team Alpha and will go for the male prisoner compound. Mr. Tarazi, with Petty Officers Jordan and Martinez, will lead Chris’s men against the spaceport, and will be designated Team Bravo. Team Charlie will consist of Ms. Valentine, along with Petty Officers Tindal, Franks, Krug and Weir, who will close on the women’s area and assure that the green shirts are kept safe once the shooting starts.

“Remember men—and lady—the 2G’s may be Human, but they are not on our side in this war. And even though they may be young, they can still kill. So don’t hesitate when the time comes.” Adam knew he was saying this for the benefit of the others, and not the SEALs. SEALs never hesitate.

“Will this be a night op?” one of the men asked.

“Unfortunately, no. As Mr. Cain has pointed out, with the flash the enemy’s energy weapons give off, our night-vision goggles and scopes will be overloaded with the first blast. We will go at dawn. As I said, there doesn’t appear to be much discipline in the compound. Many of the 2G’s will probably still be in their racks when we attack.”

“What does the surrounding wall consist of?”

“Mainly metal razor-wire fencing, none electrified, two layers, designed as a deterrent to the dinosaurs and apes roaming the area than anything else. It shouldn’t be too hard to cut through. Teams Alpha and Charlie will enter here.” Rutledge indicated a point at the southeast section of the barrier. “Once entry is made, the Teams will split off to their respective assignments. Team Bravo will enter here, just along the border to the landing field and these buildings. Once the area is secure, Team Bravo will leave a security detail at the landing field and then commandeer as many of these golf-cart like vehicles as needed so the rest can meet up with Team Charlie at the women’s compound. Team Alpha will remain on station with the male prisoners.”

The image showed dozens of rectangular objects that Rutledge had identified as electric, open-air vehicles. They were scattered throughout the compound and appeared to be the primary mode of transportation throughout the compound.

Rutledge paused for a moment, his expression one of firm determination. He surveyed the people in the room. He’d conducted countless meetings like this throughout his twenty-two years in the Navy, and each one of them was deadly serious. “Gentlemen, this is where it starts. The enemy has attacked our homeland, and this is when we start fighting back. Be careful but be courageous. Let’s get in and out as only SEALs know how. We go at dawn!”

Everyone in the room cheered, even the non-SEALs—who seemed to cheer the loudest.

Adam didn’t cheer. Instead he firmed his jaw. Even though the 2G’s had not directly participated in the killing of his family, they were just as responsible as the Juireans. Killing some of them would be a good start.

Chapter 40

Adam felt secure with the M4A1 assault rifle in his hands. Although he had participated in nearly a dozen hits during his short-lived career as an alien assassin, he had never felt truly comfortable with the rickety alien energy weapons. The MK handguns’ rate of fire was slow and delivered their bolts in an almost lackadaisical fashion. The flash rifles had a more rapid firing time and higher bolt capacity, but they had limited range.

And then there was the flash itself. There was nothing subtle about a plasma bolt from a flash rifle or an MK. They not only made the air around them crackle, but the light from a bolt lit up the scene for half-a-klick in every direction. After all, they weren’t called flash weapons for nothing. Also, one could easily trace a bolt back to its source with very little effort. And the last thing a covert shooter wanted was to advertise his location to the enemy.

Now the M4 was another story. This was a real weapon, not a toy. Adam had the SOPMOD accessory kit attached, giving him an M203 grenade launcher, a KAC sound suppressor and a visible laser/infrared designator. It was a mean-looking weapon, and probably more than he needed going up against a force of untrained teenage 2G’s. But it had been such a long time since he entered combat feeling truly outfitted.

Operated properly, the M4 could take out a target at five hundred meters, and no one would hear the shot or know what direction it came from until it was too late. And at one time, Adam Cain had been one of the deadliest men on the planet Earth with an M4A1 carbine rifle. Adam was anxious to get back in the field and to test his mettle again.

The landing craft dropped to the planet’s surface on chemical drive and under the cover of darkness. It set down near where the pod had originally landed, before the team began the long, hot slog through the thick vegetation to the 2G base.

The lead SEALs—as well as the rear and perimeter lookout—wore night-vision goggles, so the journey passed without incident. Soon they were at the base camp, with the SEALs quickly establishing the command post. The strike teams were fitted with full combat gear, including Sherri, Riyad and the non-coverts, including wireless ear communications and video relays.

Two hours before sunrise, the three teams set off for their entry points. Riyad’s team had the farthest to travel, but they would still reach their station an hour before the assault would begin. Even at this early hour, the temperature was in the eighties with humidity topping even that number. Luckily, Adam had spent the last two months getting back in shape with his fellow SEALs. He was surprised how out of shape he’d become during his time in the Fringe, and even though he was sweating profusely, he still felt exhilarated by the activity and the prospect of the coming engagement. This was what he had spent most of his life training for. It felt good to be working his muscles to their max again and to be testing himself with each step. And it was great to be back among his teammates. He hoped he would never again feel as alone as he had during his time in the Fringe.

Soon Adam’s team came to the tree line that marked the beginning of the kill zone surrounding the compound. The area was about fifty meters across and wasn’t much of a clearing at all. Perhaps the 2G’s had kept up its maintenance better when there had been more of them manning the base, but now the surrounding forest was well on its way of reclaiming what had been taken from it.

Peanut and Foster ran forward and crouched at the first of two fences. It was still dark, and they set about clipping the metal wires making up the cris-cross pattern of the fences. It only took about ten minutes to cut large enough sections in both layers of the barrier that could be swung out of the way allowing all fourteen members of both Alpha and Charlie Teams to slip through. Then the fence sections were put back in place and secured with thin wire. It would take a very concerted effort to notice that the fences had been cut.

Once inside the compound, the Teams ran for the cover of the nearest building. This entire section of the compound was dark and appeared deserted. Down the streets, they could see the prisoner compound—the only lit area on this side of the base.

Adam looked at his watch. Team Charlie would be separating at this time and making their way toward where the women were kept. Riyad should be reaching his part of the fence near the spaceport in another ten minutes. Adam’s Team would wait here. The actual assault would begin in precisely twenty-two minutes.

Fifteen minutes later, Adam’s unit moved out, proceeding slowly along the sides of the buildings in a cover-two formation. They stopped at the last building before the wall to the prisoner compound and Adam used the scope on his M4 to check the guard towers. Indeed, only three of the eight had guards in them, and in two of those, the guards appeared to be asleep, sitting in tall chairs, heads resting against the sides of the towers. In the third—the closest to the main gate—a young 2G was leaning against the inner half-wall of the tower and yawned widely. He had a Xan-Fi flash rifle slung casually over his right shoulder, and he looked to have just awakened from his own slumber.

Adam realized it wasn’t so much a task of freeing the prisoners, as much as it was giving them a place to go once they gained that freedom. The Humans inside the prison compound must be pretty beaten down and dejected by now, realizing they were on an alien planet, located hundreds, if not thousands of light-years from Earth and with no hope. Even if they could escape, where would they go? There was a time when Adam felt that same helplessness.

He turned to the others in his squad and signaled with his fingers. Three targets, set up positions and lock on targets.

Two of the other SEALs took off to assume their firing positions; Adam would take out the one nearest the gate. The other six members of Team Alpha took up positions covering the main building on this side of the gate, the only other building in the area with lights on inside. The smell of breakfast wafted in the humid early morning air. Adam wasn’t sure what time schedule the Calamore base was on, but he reasoned the guards would be getting ready for a shift change at any time. The SEALs took up positions near the door to the building.

“Alpha in position,” he whispered into his comm.

“Charlie in position,” said a voice in his ear.

“Bravo in position.” It was Jordan, one of the two SEALs assigned to Riyad’s Team.

“On my mark…we go,” said Lt. Tobias’ calm voice in his ear.

Adam lifted the M4 and sighted the young guard in his scope. He had a good line of sight, and focused on the man’s chest, center-mass. The 5.56mm round would do the job at this range. He took a deep breath, and then slowly let the air escape from his lungs, calming his pulse.

“On my mark. Go-Go-Go.”

Adam gently squeezed the trigger, and the M4 jerked back slightly as the round was released. The shot found its mark precisely where the thin black lines in the scope intersected, and the 2G dropped to the floor of the guard tower. Shifting his view, Adam could see the young man lying dead through the one-foot opening at the base of the guard platform. A confirmed kill.

Adam swung the aim of the scope to the other towers, finding the guards still sitting in their seats, but now slumped over in unnatural positions. Adam could also see the splash of blood on their chests where the SEAL bullets had hit their targets.

He turned to the other men of his Team and gave an up and down motion with his arm. The first SEAL in the stack of six reached over and quietly turned the handle on the door. It was unlocked. He stepped aside as the next SEAL made entry, his own M4A1 cheek pad pressed tightly against his face. All six commandos moved into the building; Adam could hear the soft popping gunshots as his team moved from room to room, clearing all the threats they encountered

A minute later, he heard the multiple “clear” calls from the men in the building. Adam moved to the entrance and went inside.

The first room was a large common area, with a number of couches and tables and a separate kitchen area off to the left. There were eight dead 2G’s in this room alone. As he moved further in, he found there were ten more rooms, with two beds in each. Four of the rooms had been occupied with either sleeping or barely awake 2G’s. They were all dead.

The SEALs moved quickly among the bodies, checking for signs of life, but every shot had been a kill shot.

Of the sixty-four 2G’s the reconnaissance team had identified, that number was now down to forty-five.

Adam wondered how the other Teams were faring….

Riyad found the quiet efficiency of the two SEALs in his Team to be intimidating. Although in his previous life, he had gone through extensive military training in the mountains of Afghanistan, he could now see how primitive and basic that training had been. The SEALs—Jordan and Martinez—moved so smoothly and so effortlessly, that his own awkward movements seemed even more unrefined with each step he took.

Riyad was third in line in the stack as they skirted the hangar and maintenance buildings along the side of the vast spaceport to his left. The Calamore sun was just beginning to lance its beams through the towering jungle trees and assault his eyes. He was blinking rapidly and sweating profusely, but the SEALs seemed completely unaffected by it all. Instead, they led the line consisting of him and the twelve men in Chris’s squad relentlessly toward the five saucer-shaped Klin ships directly laid out in front of them.

From the photos, the ships didn’t appear to be that big, but on the ground and up close, they soared ten stories above their concrete landing pad, with each resting on round silver bases. Within the cylindrical supports were hatchways, of which two were open. There were no 2G’s in sight.

The Team came to the first ship and slipped into the still-deep shadows under its hulking mass. Martinez moved to the open hatchway and did a quick look inside. “Clear,” he whispered. Then he motioned for two of Chris’s men to follow him inside.

The others huddled against the metal surface of the base. Moments later, Riyad could hear two quick pops from inside the spaceship. Then through his earpiece: “Clear. You two take up positions at the entrance. Shoot every 2G you see.”

Then Martinez was back outside.

They moved to the next spaceship. This one had its hatch closed, but there was an entry pad on the bulkhead next to the hatch. Jordan called for Riyad to move forward.

“Can you get this open?”

Riyad twisted the panel latch and opened the compartment. The controls were nothing fancy. Riyad and his pirates had gained entry into just about every kind of spaceship made, even though never a Klin ship. But most were activated by a quick three punch of the top button, then a press of the larger yellow pad below. The number of steps served to prevent anyone from accidently opening the exterior hatch and suffer a potential atmosphere breach. In a more secure location, there would also be a security code to enter first, but here on Calamore the Klin hadn’t seen fit to require one.

The hatch slid open, and Jordan took two more of Chris’s men in with him. After a few moments, Riyad heard the all clear. This ship was unoccupied.

Leaving two men as guards, Team Bravo repeated the same procedure with the other three Klin ships. They had found a total of nine 2G’s in the ships, and they were all neutralized.

The 2G population was now down to around thirty-six, and none of the Teams had been discovered yet. The remaining 2G’s were concentrated near Team Charlie’s location, with a few scattered throughout the compound. After dealing with Charlie’s contingent, the SEALs would do a hard-target search of the other buildings to ferret out any who remained.

Team Bravo now consisted of Jordan, Martinez, Riyad, Chris and Billy. The rest of the men had been stationed aboard the spaceships to prevent any of the 2G’s from trying to gain entry. Riyad and Billy slid into the driver’s seats of two of the ubiquitous electric carts, while the SEALs and Chris took up covering positions in the rear seats. They set off for the center of the base, about nine kilometers away to back up Team Charlie.

Sherri’s Team consisted of only herself and four SEALs, and from the reports they’d heard, there could be as many as thirty-two 2G’s at their location, along with maybe a hundred of the 2G women whose loyalty was still to be determined.

As they approached the cluster of buildings from the west, they had to go cautiously. There appeared to be a lot more people up at this hour in this section of the base, and by the time they reached their destination, the sun was casting bright bands of light directly between the buildings, creating long, conspicuous shadows. But the SEALs moved quickly and effectively, like a finely choreographed dance, with each taking turns leading Sherri ever closer to the buildings housing the green-shirted women.

The buildings were made of wide wood panels and were off-grade by a meter or so to accommodate the seasonal monsoons common in the jungle latitudes of the planet. Most of the buildings had entrances at the front and back of the long, narrow structures, yet the ones identified as housing the green shirts only had one entrance at the front.

They approached the last building in the row of four—the farthest from where the yellow shirts were observed. Moving in twos, the SEALs crouched near the entrance. Petty Officer First-Class John Tindal reached up to test the doorknob. It was locked. To the right of the door was a security pad, but the Team wasn’t going to bother with that.

Tindal removed a thin cord of thermite fuse and wrapped it around the doorknob. Then he stuck a magnesium detonator in the cord and leaned away. The fuse lit, and in a second had burned cleanly and quietly around the knob. Tindal pulled the knob from the door and felt inside the opening. There was a latch, and with a flick of his finger the door opened outward.

He and Franks slipped in, finding themselves in a large, empty common room. Off to the left was a kitchen area. A young woman—dressed only in dirty white panties and a thin green tee-shirt—was standing with her back to them, running water in a sink.

Franks moved forward silently and came up behind her. Slinging his M4 over his shoulder, he reached up with his powerful right arm and clasped it around her chest, as his left hand covered her mouth. The woman attempted to scream and to fight against Franks’ powerful grip, but it was no use. He pulled her farther into the kitchen and pressed her to her knees.

Sherri moved into her line of sight. The woman appeared to be about twenty-five to thirty, with oily black hair and dark, gaunt skin. Her large black eyes stared at Sherri with a look of pure terror.

Sherri put a finger to her lips. “Please be quiet,” she said, and the woman’s eyes grew wider. “”We’re not here to hurt you. We’ve come to rescue you.”

Franks twisted the woman around so she could see him better, as the other three SEALs moved into the kitchen and took up sentry positions. Her eyes darted around, taking in all the people around her.

“Do you understand me?” Sherri asked. “We’re here to help.”

Sherri could see the woman relax and she stopped struggling against Franks’ grip. “Don’t scream, okay?” he asked.

The woman nodded. Franks removed his hand from her mouth.

“Who…who are you?” she said. Sherri noticed the movement of her mouth did not match the words she spoke.

“My name’s Sherri. I’m here with a group of Navy SEALs from America to rescue you. Do you understand English?”

“Some. I’m Italian.”

“That’s fine, we have translation bugs,” Sherri said with a smile, tapping the back of her ear. The woman smiled back, nervously.

“What’s your name?”

“Annabelle. Annabelle Pasqual.”

“Well, Annabelle, we don’t have much time. Are all the women in the green shirts being held against their will?”

“Yes, yes we are. They took us! They’ve been using us—”

“Yes, I know. It’s all right now. We’re going to get you out of here. How many women are here, and are the yellow shirts also being held against their will?”

Annabelle’s jaw tightened and her eyes narrowed. “No, the yellows are with them. And there’s talk of them killing us. The women laughed at us when they saw our expressions.”

“How many green shirts—women like you—are here?”

“About sixty; they took several hundred of us away a few months ago. We haven’t seen any of them since.”

“Will the yellows fight against us with the others?”

“Fight? Them? No, they know nothing. They are like robots, except when they want the attention of the men. They know how to do only one thing.”

“Okay, listen very carefully Annabelle. I need you to wake up all the other women in this building and tell them to stay in their rooms. Tell them to stay quiet. We do not want to alert the 2G’s. Now hurry, and then come back to us here.”

Franks released the woman. She rose to her feet and scurried off down a long corridor off the common room. She opened doors and soon the building was alive with an ever-rising volume of chattering. Franks and Sherri looked at each other. What part of ‘stay quiet’ did they not understand?

The other three SEALs took up positions near the door and were watching for any activity from outside.

Suddenly Petty Officer Krug turned to Franks. “We’ve got company,” he whispered.

Franks and Sherri moved to the doorway. Coming down the road in front of the buildings were five men—or boys would be a better description. They were talking amongst themselves, each wearing the dull expressionless look of 2G’s. Only two of them had MK-17’s strapped around their waists.

Annabelle moved up next to those huddled near the door.

“Are they coming here?” Franks asked her.

“Yes. They are coming to wake us. We are all moved to a cafeteria for breakfast. That will be in half an hour.”

“We won’t be able to hide the burned open door from them. Command, five targets approaching our location. Two armed. Location will be compromised,” Franks reported

“Hold one,” Tobias said into their ears. “Team Bravo, ETA?”

“One minute,” came the immediate reply.

“Too long. Team Charlie…remove threat,” commanded Tobias evenly.

“Roger that,” Franks replied.

As the five 2G’s turned to climb the four short steps to the front landing of the building, the lead man noticed the hole in the door where the knob had once been. Immediately, the door swung open and the SEALs placed precise double-taps into the five men.

Farther down the road, someone shouted. More shouts followed. Team Charlie saw a dozen young men emerge from a building not too far away. Each carried flash rifles and were scrambling for the electric carts parked in front of the building.

The SEALs opened up on the lead vehicle from their position in the doorway. Suddenly, the wood around the door began to explode as plasma bolts slammed into the building. The walls were thin, yet they withstood the barrage.

Petty Officer George Weir ran to the back of the kitchen and leveled his M4 at a section of the outer wall. He opened up, perforating an arching pattern in the wood. He kicked out with his right foot and a new exit was created in the building. He and Krug slipped through and crawled underneath the building. They had cover and could clearly make out the attackers as they let loose with brilliant bolts of energy toward the front of the building.

The two SEALs took aim and pressed their triggers. They stopped a few seconds later to slip in new thirty-round magazines, and a moment later, all the 2G’s had stopped firing—but only momentarily.

Down the road, they saw another dozen 2G’s moving forward. The SEALs under the building—along with those inside—checked their ammo and prepared for another round of fighting. But just as the 2G’s were drawing near, the distinctive pop, pop, pop of other M4’s was heard coming from the rear of the advancing 2G’s. The rear line of 2G’s fell where they stood.

The other 2G’s hesitated. There was confusion and pain on their faces, the most expression Sherri had ever seen on 2G’s before. The men dropped their flash rifles and stood in the street…as Riyad and Team Bravo moved up behind them. Sherri’s team stepped out from their cover.

“Put your hands up!” Franks yelled.

The 2G’s didn’t seem to understand.

“Up! Put your hands above your heads.”

Slowly, comprehension came to the 2G’s, and soon the SEALs were moving within the young men, binding their wrists with nylon ties and frisking them for hidden weapons. A quick count left only three of the 2G males unaccounted for, and that could have simply been an error on the part of the reconnaissance team.

As for the yellow shirts, once the men were secure, Sherri and three of the SEALs approached the buildings where they were housed. A door opened, and a few of the women stepped out. A square-jawed hulk of a woman stepped forward.

“Who are you? And what are you doing here?” she demanded in a gruff, gravelly voice.

“Shut the fuck up, bitch!’ Sherri said back to her. “You’re not in charge here anymore. And if you laugh at the idea of the greens being killed, will you still be laughing when it’s you who are about to die?” Sherri leveled her weapon at the woman.

Her jaw fell open, and gasps of shock were heard coming from the other women inside the building who had heard Sherri. Krug leaned over to Sherri and whispered in her ear, “Eh, we’re not supposed to kill these women.”

“I know,” Sherri said back to him, a wicked smile creeping across her face. “I just like giving people a taste of their own sick medicine now and then.”

Chapter 41

Seventeen minutes after the start of the operation, the 2G base on Calamore was secure. The SEALs had suffered zero casualties, while the enemy had lost nearly ninety percent of their strength, not counting the yellow-shirt women. Now came the most important part of the operation, and the main reason they had come all this way in the first place.

As the main gate to the prisoner compound was opened, Adam rode in on one of the electric carts and stopped at the edge of a wide parade field separating the outer wall from the rows of long, narrow barracks. He stood up and took the microphone his men had hooked up to a simple speaker that now rested on the hood of the cart. No one in the compound had noticed their arrival, or the fact that no guards were in the towers overlooking the prison.

“Attention! Can I have everyone’s attention?” Adam announced loudly. His voice echoed cleanly in the still, early morning air. “I need everyone to leave their barracks and assemble in the parade field immediately.”

Flanked by eight ominous-looking SEALs in full gear and cradling M4A1 carbine rifles, Adam watched as dozens of groggy-eyed men slowly filtered out of the buildings. They were all dressed in dark blue tunics, many ripped and dirty from years of use. Most had longish hair and beards, along with gaunt cheeks and hollow eyes. These were the non-converts, the ones who would not cave to the Klin propaganda. They were of little use to the Klin and had been treated accordingly.

As the men formed into ragged lines in front of Adam’s cart, many seemed not to notice the SEAL’s and their non-2G outfits, but a few did. These men were more bright-eyed, more aware of their surroundings. New arrivals, Adam speculated, still angry at their incarceration. But soon even the mind-numbed long-timers began to take notice. There was something different about this morning’s roll call. Murmurs spread throughout the ranks.

After about five minutes, Adam noticed that no more men were leaving the buildings. But this wasn’t right; there were far fewer than a thousand men. A quick head count put their numbers at closer to ninety.

Adam lifted the microphone. “I’m Captain Adam Cain, United States Navy. We have secured the compound and are here to free you from your captivity.”

He paused to let the significance of his statement sink in. As the seconds passed, there came a marked improvement in the moods and expressions on the faces of the men. A few of them even began to cheer. Then someone yelled out, “We’re going home, boys!”

Adam grimaced. He knew they were in for a letdown. Then one of the older men stepped forward. He was tall and barrel-chested, with large dark eyes and a bald head. Every group of men had their leader, and the prisoners were no exception.

“I’m Derrick Vanholden,” the man said. Even though he spoke English, Adam could still detect a trace of accent, even though the interference of the translation bug. The device behind his ear tried to decipher which language the man was speaking, but with his next words, the device seemed to have worked it out. The words came through to Adam smooth and clear.

“We’ve been told that we are on an alien planet, hundreds of light-years from Earth. And now the U.S. Navy is here to save us. Forgive me if I find that a little hard to believe. We have been manipulated by the 2G’s before.”

“I can assure you, Mr. Vanholden, we are the real deal. We have just come from Earth, where major changes are taking place. But I was led to believe that there were around a thousand of your men. How many are in your ranks?”

“There are eighty-six of us left. The 2G’s came and took most of us away a couple of months ago, just after a lot of them left. They seem to be deserting the base. Are you here to take us home?”

Adam hesitated; Vanholden picked up on it immediately, as did some of the men closest to Adam. “What’s wrong? Is this some kind of game you’re playing?”

“No, it’s no game. But I have to tell you what’s going on first.”

“No shit!” someone yelled from the crowd.

Adam had no choice but to jump right in. “As you know, the 2G’s and the Klin have been trying to get you to join their forces for a fight against the Juireans. Was this your understanding as well?”

“That’s right,” Vanholden confirmed.

“Well, I’m here to tell you that the war has begun, and that it’s a direct result of the Klin manipulating both the Humans and the Juireans into fighting each other. The Klin revealed the location of Earth to the Juireans and they sent a massive fleet against the planet a few months ago. The Klin sat back as millions of people were killed in the initial attack. Then the 2G’s—in the Klin spaceships—destroyed the Juirean fleet. Now the Juireans believe Earth is their enemy and will be sending their entire empire to fight against us.”

“When can we go home?” someone asked from the crowd. Adam got the distinct impression that most of the men didn’t care about the politics of the situation. All they wanted was to go home.

“That’s the problem,” Adam said. “The Klin have convinced the people back on Earth that they are the saviors of the Human race. And they call the 2G’s—and the others who have joined them—Recruits, having joined the Klin voluntarily. The last thing the Klin want is for people like you—along with the women—to tell your stories, stories of abduction, torture, rape and imprisonment. The same thing happened to me and my friends when we returned to Earth after having been abducted ourselves.”

“So what’s going to happen to us?” Vanholden asked. The men began to crowd closer to Adam’s cart, a move that made the SEALs nervous. They gripped their weapons a little tighter.

“You have options, Mr. Vanholden…and the rest of you. You can return to Earth; we’ll provide you with one of the Klin spaceships and help you find your way. But then you’ll be taking your chances with the Klin. Or you could stay here, in control of the compound, and wait for either the forces from Earth or the Juireans to find you. That would be a risk. Or you can join us.”

“What do you mean? Aren’t you a part of the Earth forces?”

Adam could see the confusion on the faces of the prisoners, realizing he was dropping a lot of information on them at once.

“Not officially. We escaped from Earth just as the battle was winding down. We are not a part of the Earth-Klin forces. We are operating outside the control of the Klin and the 2G’s. And we are on a special mission.”

“What mission?” Vanholden’s tone spoke volumes. Adam was beginning to feel he’d lost them.

“We are to operate as a strike force behind the Juirean lines, disrupting their fighting capacity as best we can, and preparing for the Human invasion of Juirean territory.”

“You want us to fight with you, rather than go home? Are you fucking crazy?” Multiple voices began to protest in the crowd.

“Like I said, the choice will be yours. Just remember, if you decide to go back to Earth, you run the risk of being imprisoned…or worse. The 2G’s could eliminate you, rather than have you counter the lies the Klin have been spreading.”

Adam held up his hand, as many of the men began to talk among themselves. “Listen up. I’m not asking for an immediate decision. We will be staying here at the base for a few weeks as we prepare for our move into Juirean territory. During that time, you are free to go anywhere on the base you wish and to speak with any of my men. Ask your questions and satisfy yourselves. I have been where you are now. I was abducted, too. The last thing I want is for someone to join us who is not one hundred percent committed. But for the time being, you’re free. You no longer need to fear the Klin or the 2G’s. That’s all for now.”

Adam wanted to get out of the prison area as soon as possible, so he and the SEAL’s loaded into three of the carts and headed farther into the base to hook up with the other Teams. Tobias and Rutledge would be coming in now. They needed to establish a headquarters on the base.

Adam knew he would be replaying the speech he just gave over and over in his head, thinking of all the different ways he could have presented the information. He’d been winging it, and the more he spoke, the more complicated—and bizarre—the presentation became. Nearly a hundred men had been shaken from their slumber and then presented with a set of facts that defied belief.

As the cart hummed through the deserted streets of the base, Adam hoped the recent experiences of the men had conditioned them for the strange and seemingly impossible reality they now faced. If he was in their place, Adam would have been skeptical. Luckily they had a couple of weeks to convince the men of the truth. He had the President’s speech they could watch. He had Riyad and Sherri they could speak with, along with the other non-converts in Chris’s group. And they had their own experiences at the hands of the Klin and the 2G’s.

He felt a little better. If all went well, he would have his small army—smaller than he had anticipated, unfortunately—but an army nonetheless.

What he would do with it was still a mystery.

Chapter 42

Admiral Nate Allen had become very proficient at spotting 2G’s. He even began to refer to them—at least to himself—for what they were: a bunch of barely-Human men born and raised off-planet by a race of backstabbing and heartless aliens. In no way were they the Saviors of the Human race.

And it was their pedigree that also revealed their greatest weakness. Having never spent much time around real Humans, the 2G’s were gullible to a fault, and if they had any money, Allen could’ve stripped them clean in a game of Texas-Hold-Em.

Instead, as Allen set about establishing his clandestine operation in Nevada, he found all he needed to do to gain the cooperation of the 2g’s was to compliment them. They had no concept of sarcasm and believed everything Allen told them. When he said he was in absolute awe of their knowledge of Klin ship operations, they were more than willing to show off their expertise to the admiral’s secret recording devices. With these recordings, Allen’s SEALs were able to master the controls and technology of the ships in very short order, even before the trainees under Admiral Keller’s command.

As it turned out, none of the technology was magical; it was just more advanced. And the cadre of scientists Allen recruited used this knowledge to connect the dots until the concepts became clear—at least to them.

The Admiral had made the mistake a few weeks back by asking some of these newly-enlightened scientists how it was that the aliens could communicate over interstellar distances. He left the room feeling as though his head was about to explode, with terms like quantum entanglement pairs and wormholes boggling his mind. He decided he didn’t need to understand the technology, only that it worked.

And indeed it did—even if a message took four hours one-way. And now Admiral Allen was in touch with his advance force in the Fringe.

He had relayed to Tobias and Cain the information regarding the aftermath of the Juirean attack. They had been mortified—just as he had—at the number of one billion dead. Yet they saved most of their scorn for the fact that the 2G’s were now passing themselves off as Earth’s Saviors. This information set off Adam to an even greater degree. He calmed down somewhat when Allen related the conversation he had with President Ryan concerning Adam and the charge of treason. The admiral had expressed the hope that one day Cain’s name could be cleared of this horrible lie. Allen’s belief in Cain’s innocence had gone a long way to improving the mood of the young SEAL.

But Admiral Allen had a new problem on his hands: the converts. These were the true turncoats who treated the silver-skinned aliens and their 2G disciples as gods from the heavens. These people were much harder to spot, since they were native-born and well-versed in real life on the planet. One convert in particular had nearly blown Allen’s operation a few weeks ago. And wouldn’t you know it he had been a nerdy bean-counter before his conversion….

Being a man of action, Admiral Nate Allen hated the Pentagon accountants and their obsession with every bullet, grenade and laptop computer used during a direct action—or DA.

Yet SEAL Team Six operated at a different level than most military units, with their own budget and supply protocol. If it hadn’t been for this fact, then Allen might not have noticed the spy when he joined the Complex staff about a month after the attacks.

Darin Jacobs was his name, and he was a thin, wiry man, with pre-mature male baldness and a serious case of chronic halitosis. Allen often wondered why Jacobs had joined the Klin in the first place; Allen reasoned it was the nerdy man’s quest for power over his fellow Humans that convinced him to join the 2G’s.

For several weeks, Allen and Admiral Keller had been working nearly around the clock in the Complex setting up Allen’s secret Nevada base. They had also begun to notice more 2G’s being assigned to Keller’s support staff. Allen had been able to divert most of them from his operations, and Keller had put his foot down at times as the inexperienced 2G’s attempted to influence his decisions.

As Supreme Military Commander, Keller was in charge of all the training operations for the new Human recruits, of which millions were coming in droves to volunteer for the coming war. The Klin had a total of nine hundred eighty-five spaceships in their current fleet, and when the Saviors came to Earth to begin the recovery operations, most of those ships were left undermanned. In addition, production of new ships began in earnest, and the need for trained crews for all these ships became a priority.

The Saviors were finding these new recruits to be rapid learners, much quicker than they had anticipated. Keller figured out early on that the Earth-born Humans had been acclimated to the task by the myriad of video games most of them grew up with. Also, native-born men and women grew up playing as only real children played, as cops and robbers, cowboys and Indians—and even space warriors and aliens. The Saviors had been shielded from all this as they were raised by the Klin. Much of what came naturally for native-borns was foreign to the off-worlders.

As the weeks passed, the native-born crews were supplanting the Savior crews, and Admiral Keller was gaining more control over the growing fleet.

Yet the converts were in a constant state of suspicion regarding Keller’s operations. Harboring a natural dislike for their own kind, these men had an almost suicidal attitude and sought to infiltrate nearly all military and political organizations on the planet, and then report their findings to their Klin masters.

When Jacobs showed up at the Complex to begin his duties as one of the Pentagon auditors, he had slipped through mostly unnoticed. He had specifically requested assignment to Allen’s Special Forces command, and that’s when the problems started.

“This is bullshit!” Admiral Allen yelled, tossing the stapled stack of papers back on his desk. “How can I train my troops without enough ammunition?”

Allen’s aide, Lt. Commander Roland Lewis, nodded. “This is happening more and more. We’ve never had this problem before.”

In his frustration, Allen picked up the report again and turned to the third page. “It says that with production facilities so severely damaged, ammunition requests must be greatly reduced. And it goes on to mention those damn bolt launchers as a more logical replacement for our traditional weapons. More bullshit!”

“It was Jacobs again, wasn’t it, sir?”

Allen didn’t need to see who had signed the report. He could recognize the tone of the report. “Fuckin-A right. That scrawny little bastard is after us, Roland. I know it.”

“Doesn’t he realize the uniqueness of our charter?” Lewis asked. “We’re the SEALs, for God’s sake. We’ve never had to beg for supplies or equipment before.”

“That’s right. It’s as if he’s never—” Allen’s eyes grew wide. He had a lot of experience with the 2G’s over the past few months, but he’d only heard rumors of some of the converted native-borns. Could Jacobs be one of them? “That fuckin’ little weasel. He’s one of them!”

“That would explain a lot. After all, how could someone so inexperienced with military supply protocols be assigned to such an important job? And especially with us.”

“But if we take him out, the Klin may double their efforts against us,” Allen said. He sat in his chair and pulled his ubiquitous yellow pad close to him. “Think, Allen. Think,” he said aloud.

Roland leaned forward. “Admiral, what’s the one thing these nerds crave more than even power?” A thin smile grew across his face.

“Besides sex, what?”

“That’s right, sir. Sex.”

Allen raised his eyebrows at his aide. “You say we get the man laid, and then our problems will go away?”

“Not just that. But what about a sex scandal? You know, some really perverted stuff.”

Allen raised his eyebrows even higher. “We might even use it to control him, to re-convert him back to our side.”

“It’s worth a try, sir. Even if he won’t re-covert, we can always get him kicked out of the department. But having him as a double agent, well that would be a major coup.”

“I know this goes beyond your normal duties as my aide, Commander,” Admiral Allen said with a smile, “but make it so.”

“Aye, sir.”

The plan was simple, as most affairs of the heart usually are. And with the efficiency of a military operation, Commander Lewis laid out the plan to Admiral Allen:

Lewis, and some of his tech geeks, would gain access to Jacobs’ home and work computers and load them up will all sorts of vile child pornography. While in his home, they would also plant various photographs, love letters and more, everything any self-respecting pervert might have lying around their swinging bachelor pad.

Once this was done, it was simply a matter of having an internal computer audit conducted, beginning at the Pentagon, something that was very common in the high-security of the military community. Once Lewis’s auditors drilled down far enough into Jacobs’ computer, they would discover the first hidden traces of the accountant’s secret life. From there, it was simply a matter of obtaining search warrants for his home, as well as all his electronic devices.

The operation was scary in its simplicity, and doubly so in its effect.

Darin Jacobs knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he had been set up. Yet as he sat waiting to meet with the Supreme Military Commander, Admiral William Keller, he continued to rack his brain for ways he could get out of this mess.

First of all, Jacobs was operating undercover for the 2G’s. And if that wasn’t bad enough, when that rat-bastard Lewis approached him with the allegations, he had also informed Jacobs that he knew what he really was—a native-born convert of the god-Klin.

They also found out his real name was not Darin Jacobs, but instead Steven Bernstein from Chicago. His 2G and Klin handlers had devised a new identity for him, that of Darin Jacobs—accountant—from Miami. Under his real name, he had been declared missing three years before. In reality, he’d been taken from the planet and trained for undercover work by the Klin aboard one of their huge Colony ships. If he’d shown back up under his real name at the time of the Juirean attack, he would have been immediately labeled a convert, and any chance of infiltrating the Pentagon would have been lost. Steven Bernstein was an accountant, so that much of the cover story was real, but not much else.

The Klin had hoped that in the aftermath of the Juirean attack, most DNA, dental, and fingerprint records would have been destroyed. Unfortunately, Lewis had found him out. This didn’t reveal his training by the Klin, but it was still a major red flag.

And now he had been caught with loads of child pornography on his computer. As he sat in Keller’s anteroom, he knew it would be difficult for him to stand up and proclaim his innocence regarding the pornography, especially in light of the double life he was leading. So in the vernacular of the common man, Steven Bernstein concluded he was truly fucked.

Which made him all the more curious why Admiral Keller had requested to see him….

Commander Lewis and Admiral Allen were in the office with Keller, when Jacobs/Bernstein was ushered in.

“Take a seat, Mr. Bernstein—I’ll call you that, since it is your real name.” Admiral Keller’s voice was jovial as he spoke.

Steven was not a strong man, so being in the presence of three such powerful military officers caused him to sweat profusely. His strength came from control over numbers, not people. In hindsight, this whole spying gig had been a major mistake.

“I suppose you’re wondering why you’re here, and not in some jail cell somewhere, making friends with your cellmate Tyrone?” Keller said. “Well it’s simple. We’ve placed you in a position where you have absolutely no option other than to cooperate with us.”

“What do you want to know? I’ll tell you anything.” Steven’s voice was barely audible.

“That’ll come later, Bernstein,” Keller said. “But right now we want you to continue along in your current position as if nothing has happened.”

Steven blinked several times, having trouble believing his ears. “Excuse me, sir?”

“That’s right. You will continue doing just what you’ve been doing—except now you work for us.”

Steven should have known this was coming. He’d seen enough spy movies in his life to know how it worked. He felt an incredible weight lift from his shoulders. To hell with the Klin! He never really believed them to be gods. Instead he used them, believing they would give him power over the type of people who had ridiculed and teased him his entire life. He had gained a little satisfaction with the hurdles he’d thrown in the paths of these powerful men, for as long as it lasted. Now Admiral Keller was giving him a chance to survive, and at that moment the only loyalty Steven Bernstein maintained was to himself.

“Yes, sir, I’m your man.”

“Damn right you are,” Keller stated, his tone suddenly as cold and sharp as a knife. “And don’t you ever forget it.”

Chapter 43

There was a large command building near the center of the base that Adam and Tobias chose for their headquarters. There was base-wide communication equipment, meeting rooms, a large cafeteria and even sleeping quarters for all this men—and Sherri.

The surviving 2G’s, along with the yellow-shirts, were placed in the prison compound, yet confined to only five of the buildings. Guard shacks were erected within the compound to make sure they remained in their designated areas—the original prison was too big to be properly watched with a population of inmates who truly wanted to escape.

Annabelle had been right about the yellow-shirts. Since they had been born and raised by the 2G’s to do only one thing, they had never been given any proper education; however, some had been responsible for the early child rearing. Once the children reached four years, they were taken away to be educated and trained by male 2G’s, along with a smattering of Klin. So basically, the yellow-shirts were as dumb as dirt.

The remaining seventeen 2G’s were a different matter. Even though they were young, they had been indoctrinated by the Klin into believing they were superior to native-borns and that their purpose in life was a righteous one. Even though they were just as Human as their captors, they thought of the Humans from Earth as aliens. And being young and inexperienced, they were also rebellious to a fault.

Two of the prisoners had been shot dead as they tried to escape the compound the first day. That had tempered the actions of the others, but it only made them more devious in their planning.

Adam was almost to the point of suggesting to Tobias that they were too much trouble to keep around, consuming valuable manpower to guard. He knew it was a heartless thought, but there would be no re-converting these men. As long as they remained alive, they would be trouble. He decided to give it another couple of days before making a final decision. After all, he was the ranking officer now.

A few days later a loose routine was established in the settlement. Adam and his men were involved in strategy meetings for their move into the Fringe. Kaylor came down to the surface—to be pushed around in a wheelchair they found in the base hospital—and began learning how to pilot the Klin ships. He found the controls to be basically along the same lines as other vessels. The Klin had originally invented the gravity drive and designed the basic layout for the controls. Except for a few logical refinements over the four thousand years since its development, nothing much had changed in the design. Kaylor, Riyad and Chris Mullis went on to train the SEALs and other volunteers from Chris’s men on the finer points of piloting the strange flying saucers. They took the ships off the surface for real-life maneuvers, much to the delight of the trainees.

The strangest part of the evolving routine was also one Adam should have anticipated. It seemed that one of the primary thoughts the newly freed men from the prison had on their minds had nothing to do with getting home, or even enjoying their new-found freedom. It had to do with the green-shirts. Some of the men had been held captive for ten years or more, and during that time had no contact with the opposite sex. Now that they were free to wander the base—as were the women—they spent an inordinate portion of their time trying to seduce the women.

This action produced its own side effects. The green-shirts had been spirited away from Earth many months, and even years before, and were subjected to the most degrading treatment imaginable. Some were raped, while others had been artificially inseminated. All had borne numerous children, some as many as five or six during their time with the 2G’s. The last thing these women had on their minds was more sex, even if it was on their own terms.

This caused an issue for the horny men from the prison, where tempers sometimes flared. Fights broke out among the men over the few women who were open to hooking up. This situation continued for most of the first week until the eighty-six men and sixty-four women reached an understanding of sorts, if only for the good of the community.

The base was so huge—at one time accommodating over ten thousand 2G’s—that all the freed men and women could claim their own domiciles. Adam grew concerned when the non-converts began to settle into a somewhat contented state of mind, pairing up with the women and staking claim to small slices of the base. He began to wonder how many would join his slowly growing army.

Some of the men and women had volunteered immediately, even though not all these early recruits were of fighting grade. Adam took them anyway. Every unit needed support personnel and having these people around would help free up the SEALs to do most of the heavy lifting.

Vanholden had been one of the earliest volunteers. He also helped organize viewing sessions of the President’s speech, as well as interviews with the current members of Adam’s army. As the first week stretched into the second, Adam’s force grew by forty, to include twenty-eight men and twelve women.

There was still a small group of about twenty men and eighteen women who insisted on returning to Earth. Adam was good at his word and had found three of the men who were experienced pilots back on Earth. They were trained to pilot the Klin ships, of which one was to be used for the trip back to the homeworld.

He was also surprised to find that four of the seven scientists were also opting for the return trip. It seemed that the thrill and spontaneity they’d experienced when deciding to join Adam for his interstellar adventure had worn off by now. Some had abandoned families when bolting for the landing craft. Adam couldn’t blame them, but still he feared for their lives—all their lives—as they would return to face the Klin and their single-minded and heartless goal of perpetuating the war. The Klin had proven that they weren’t beyond cold-blooded murder of millions of people to further their agenda. They would not hesitate to kill every last one of these men and women if they saw them as a threat.

Adam would contact Admiral Keller beforehand and give him a heads up, in case he could do something to guarantee the refugees landing rights on the planet. Unfortunately, this could tip the admiral’s hand that he was working with Adam. Again, he didn’t have much optimism for their successful return to Earth, but he would let them go.

Two weeks into their stay on Calamore, Adam called a strategy meeting among his top lieutenants. Final plans had to be defined that would get them on the right track, along with a number of other issues they had to discuss.

The meeting was attended by all the regulars, but now included Derrick Vanholden, along with another recent volunteer named Josh Cohen and a green-shirt named Ingrid Sorenson. Cohen had held the rank of colonel in the Israeli army at the time of his abduction, so his skill set could come in handy.

As far as the women were concerned, it turned out that Annabelle Pasqual was not much of an intellect and had no desire to take a lead position. Ingrid, on the other hand, was a fiery pistol of a woman who had a wit almost as quick as Sherri’s. The two quickly became inseparable.

“Okay, we need to get down to brass tacks if we’re to have any chance of success against the Juireans,” Adam began the meeting. “First of all, we have to have the freedom of movement within the Expansion, and we certainly can’t do that aboard the Juirean battlecruiser and the Klin ships. Riyad….”

“My pirate fleet consisted mainly of Silean Exitor-class ships. These are sleek, fast ships with decent weaponry. They have a compliment of about twenty-five and are the preferred mode of long-range transportation throughout the Fringe. Any of these ships we came upon, we’d make a point of retaining. The other merchant ships we attacked were usually stripped and set adrift.”

“Where can we get these ships—Silean, you called them?” Tobias asked. Adam really enjoyed having the lieutenant at his side. Even though he always deferred command to Adam in the most respectful way, it was hard for him to forget his officer training. Adam had a certain level of expertise himself, but everyone knew Tobias was the only real officer in the room, at least until Cohen had been brought into the chain of command. But even though Cohen outranked Tobias on a strictly military level, Tobias was a SEAL, and by default, this whole operation was under American control. Cohen had no problem with this arrangement.

“Two ways, Mr. Tobias: We can either steal them, or we can buy them. If we steal them, then we have to lie in wait until one happens along, and then hope we can take her without too much damage. That will take time and considerable effort, and we risk taking casualties along the way.”

“That leaves buying them,” Chief Rutledge commented. “What do we use for money?”

“I have a plan that should get us most of what we need, but that route will also be risky. It involves making a call on an old friend of Adam’s and mine.” Riyad looked over at Adam and saw the look of confusion on his face. “Kroekus.”

“You’ve got to be kidding? He wouldn’t let us within a hundred kilometers of him or his headquarters, not after our last meeting.”

“All I need are six of your SEALs, and to contact my old second, a Nimorian named Angar.”

“Is he still alive?”

“I’m pretty sure. I saw his ship bolt out from Dimloe just as the battle was turning. He’s a pirate, and always will be. I’m sure he’s reestablished himself in the underworld and would have a way of contacting Kroekus.”

“Who’s this Kroekus character?” Tobias asked.

“I’ll tell you,” Sherri spoke up, a little too loudly. “He’s about as close as you can come to Jabba the Hut in real life; a fat slob of a creature who controls most of the organized crime in the Fringe. I wouldn’t count on him helping us too much, Riyad.”

“Trust me, Sherri. I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse,” replied Riyad, doing his best Don Corleone imitation. Adam was surprised to find that even the Lebanese were fans of The Godfather.

“Okay, let’s assume that we can get our hands on some of these ships,” Adam continued, “where are we going to set up shop? We can’t stay here. This is too far from the Fringe and it’s well-known to the Klin and the 2G’s. As their Human forces begin to invade Juirean space, they will eventually return here.”

Riyad spoke again. “During my research into possible locations for a Klin base in the Fringe, I found two planets with decent gravity, other than Zylim-4. Z-4 is a bust now, so we might try the other two. However, before you get too excited, they are on close-in hot worlds.”

Carol Nash had been the only scientist to join the inner circle. She spoke next. “That could be a problem unless our base is in the terminator zone between the hot and cold sections. Do these planets rotate?”

“One does, the other doesn’t. There’s a large underground mining facility on Viemon-2, right at that terminator zone you mention. It’s in the Castorian system, and there’s a large, abandoned section that’s been tapped out by the mining conglomerates. And because of the gravity, most of the mining that still takes place is done by robots and automated equipment. We should be able to set up operations there. And it’s also right in the middle of the Fringe. We’ll be able to strike targets with relative ease.”

“What about the Juirean presence in the area?” Cohen asked, speaking for the first time. Cohen spoke perfect English, having acquired a lot of his advance training at the Naval War College in Rhode Island. He had also been born in America, in Kansas City, but his family immigrated to Israel in 1987, when he was seventeen.

At first, he and Riyad had been leery of each other, but as they began to work closer over the past two weeks, they began to see that their new reality trumped any animosities from the past. Adam was glad to see they had gained a certain respect for each other, and that working together would not be a problem.

Adam spoke next. “We can assume that since the destruction of their fleet, the Juireans will have reinforced and enhanced their presence in the Fringe. The region has become the border between what would be considered Juirean space and Human space. You can bet a lot has changed since we left. As for now, we have no idea what those enhancements may be, but that’s what we’re here for. With communications now established with Admiral Allen, we’ll not only be able to attack the Juirean infrastructure in the Fringe, but also provide him with much needed intel regarding their forces there.”

“Won’t the Klin also be providing intel for us—meaning the people—back on Earth?” Chris Mullis asked. “As you’ve told us before, the Klin need us to kick some butt early on in this war just to make it competitive.”

“That’s true, but we have to accept all Klin intelligence with a grain of salt. They want us to weaken the Juireans, but they also can’t have us plow through them with little effort—if that’s even possible. They need us to win some, and then lose some. But you’re right. At first they need us to win, just so the people back home will believe we can prevail in this war.

“But back to Riyad’s plan. The bulk of our forces can probably stay here until you can get us some ships. We can take the battlecruiser into the Void and then use the shuttle to get us to Nimor.”

Adam surveyed the faces seated around the large conference table. They looked anxious for some action. “Sherri, how about you help the Chief and Carol coordinate our move to Viemon-2. We’ll need as much information about the facility as the Library can provide. We’ll also need to start stockpiling supplies, weapons, ammo and the like. Unfortunately,” he said with a smile, looking at the SEALs in the room, “we’re going to have to start using the bolt launchers more, at least until we can establish a resupply line with Earth. I know, they’re awkward and limited, but we’ll eventually run out of real ammo once the fighting starts.”

He hesitated as he noticed several of the people at the table taking notes. Good, they’re taking things seriously. “If there’s nothing else, then we’ll adjourn. I will meet with each of the teams individually as we approach our jump off point. We go in five days.”

Chapter 44

Adam picked a team of six SEALs to accompany them to Nimor so Riyad could find Angar and implement the balance of his plan. Adam was anxious to meet the Nimorian, if he was still alive.

At the very beginning of Adam’s adventure, it had been Angar who attacked the Klin ship he was on. It was also Angar who boarded the Klin ship and rescued Riyad just before it exploded. He also led the assault on the Nimorian jail that provided the diversion so that Adam, Kaylor and Jym could escape back to the FS-475. For those first few days that Adam had existed in the alien world, Angar had been there—just out of Adam’s view—yet playing an integral part in the events.

Yes, Adam was very anxious to meet this amazing alien.

Sherri and four other SEALs would accompany Adam and Riyad on their mission yet would stay aboard the Juirean battlecruiser with Kaylor and Jym. They would serve as backup for the main force, should the need arise. Sherri had insisted on coming along, saying that she was the only person who could guide the SEALs in the event of a rescue mission. Adam was glad to have her along. He knew her capabilities. Besides, they hadn’t had much time to spend together since he had acquired his new rank and responsibilities.

Lt. Tobias remained on Calamore to coordinate communications with Admiral Allen and to begin the training of the non-converts who chose to join them. It had also been decided that they would not allow the other non-converts to return to Earth until Adam’s force moved into the Fringe. Tobias instructed his men not to reveal any information regarding their plans—or the location of their new base—to any of those returning to Earth. Undoubtedly, the returning Humans would be subjected to all kinds of interrogation by the Klin, and they couldn’t reveal what they didn’t know.

On the fifth day, the great Juirean battleship left orbit and initiated a deep-well. They would skirt the Barrier and enter the Void on the Rigor side of the Fringe. The Barrier was filled with too much matter to risk direct passage through it.

Even though gravity-wells protected star travelers from most debris that could damage or even destroy a spaceship, the densities found in nebular gas were too much for the wells to handle. It took a fine balance of interstellar material to both feed the drive, yet not overload it at the same time. There was nothing worse than blowing a well, and then finding oneself moving at near-light speed in a cluster of debris, where even the smallest particle was capable of ripping the largest starship to shreds.

The passage to the Nimorian system would take nine days in the battlecruiser. Adam and Riyad would take the landing craft the rest of the way in. For this part of the operation, all they needed to do was locate Angar.

Fortunately, the trip into the Void was uneventful, and even though they did detect additional activity near the inner boundary of the Void, no one saw fit to make contact with the Juirean battlecruiser.

The Kyllian asteroids provided a good hiding place for the cruiser—just as they had been for the elusive Klin computer core. Adam and Riyad were in the pilothouse of the Juirean landing craft, headed for Nimor on a homecoming of sorts. Nimor had been Adam’s first experience with an alien planet, and he could vividly recall the shootout with the Rigorians, an event that first revealed his Human superiority. A day later, Adam first encountered Riyad Tarazi.

As they approached Nimor, Adam stared out the viewport and began to sense a sickening feeling in his stomach. Almost two years had passed since he’d last gazed upon the surface of the planet, and at that time his only thoughts were about finding a way home. Now his life had become a lot more complicated, and his goals affected more than himself. There was nothing for him back on Earth. Now all he had was the mission—and the revenge. He was committed to both one-hundred-percent

With so much additional Juirean activity in the Sector, detecting a small military craft approaching the planet didn’t raise any concerns with the Nimorian authorities. When the inquiry came through, Riyad simply stated they were on a survey mission of the area north of Gildemont and would be landing at a non-designated location of their choosing. The Nimorians didn’t challenge the Juirean spaceship.

Riyad scanned the Library, and quickly located the relative of Angar’s he was seeking. When he mentioned the name Fredic Dess to Adam, Riyad was surprised to find that Adam knew him.

“He’s the bastard who first had us arrested. I didn’t know he was related to Angar.”

“How do you think we got all the information about you and the Klin ship? And I see he’s moved up in the world after receiving the money I paid him for that information.” Riyad scanned the screen, detailing the latest information available on Dess. He now lived in an exclusive region of Gildemont, usually reserved for the very wealthy. Riyad didn’t recall paying him enough to make such a move, so Angar must have skimmed a little extra from the pirate coffers for his relative.

If anyone would know Angar’s whereabouts, it would be Fredic Dess.

They did a gravity landing in a large vacant area east of Dess’s compound. The plan was simply to ask where the former pirate leader could find Angar and leave it at that. Even still, Adam chose to wear full gear, along with an M4 complete with attached grenade launcher. You just never knew for sure….

Riyad was dressed in a simple blue tunic, with an MK-17 holstered around his waist.

As the two Humans casually approached the front entrance to the compound, they were surprised to find half-a-dozen guards manning the gate hut and lining the upper levels of the surrounding walls. It seemed strange to have this much security around a residence, especially that of a former bureaucrat for the local government.

Four Nimorian guards were at the guard hut, along with two Rigorians eyeing them suspiciously from the wall, each cradling Xan-fi flash rifles. Adam’s own outfit looked intimidating and out of place, so the guards saw him as the primary threat. The Humans didn’t hesitate in their approach, but instead tried their best to look as though they belonged there.

“State your business!” one of the Nimorians called out when they were about ten meters from the gate.

“I am Riyad Tarazi here to see Fredic Dess. Please announce my arrival.”

The Nimorian ducked back into the hut. A moment later, he reappeared. “You are to approach the monitor,” he said, as weapons were raised in their direction.

Riyad and Adam neared the hut and stood in front of a small monitor camera mounted along the hut’s fascia. Both the Humans looked up at the camera. Adam was hoping that in his current garb, Dess would not recognize him.

Suddenly, a voice called out from a hidden speaker. “General! It is you!”

Riyad immediately recognized the voice. “Angar, you’re here?”

“Yes, sir. Please enter. I thought you were dead.”

“You know me—I’m indestructible, my friend.”

They were allowed through the gate and directed into the main foyer of the massive residence. Yes, Fredic Dess had been paid additional credits beyond what Riyad had authorized. But that was water under the bridge. So much had changed since then.

Angar’s black furry body appeared, wearing a gold jacket and dark blue pants. Another Nimorian—Fredic Dess—was a step behind, dressed in a gray robe and a look of suspicion. Angar stopped a couple of steps in front of his former leader.

“I am surprised to see you again, General. The last time there was a Juirean cruiser closing on you over a moon of Dimloe. And I have not heard from you in all this time. So many of our crews were lost that day, I thought you were among them.”

Angar led Riyad and Adam to a large green sofa. They sat down, while a Nimorian female brought in ice water for them to drink. Adam doubted if Human chemistry was programmed into the home’s dietary module, so water was always a safe bet.

Angar and Dess sat in two chairs opposite the sofa, and Adam saw Dess’s gaze lock onto him.

“You’re the Human who broke out of the jail building,” he stated flatly.

“And you’re the one who turned me over to the Juireans.”

Riyad sat his glass on a table in front of the sofa and watched as the two beings eyed each other. “Calm down everyone. Everything worked out as it should. We are all still alive,” and then while looking around the room, “and some are doing quite well, I see.”

Angar also noticed the tension between Adam and Dess. “Yes, my General. Once I rounded up what remained of the Fringe Pirates, I have been using my cousin’s home as a base of operations. We are just now beginning to recover some of our lost status, although nothing like during the height of your leadership, General. But why have you returned, and why to Fredic’s home?”

“We came looking for you.”

Concern crossed Angar’s face, a look Riyad noticed immediately. “No, my friend, I am not here to cause you harm. In fact, I have a business proposition for you.”

Angar shifted his gaze from Riyad to Adam, and then back again. “What sort of proposition?” Angar’s voice trailed out slowly as he spoke.

“Don’t trust them, Angar,” Fredic Dess said quickly. “They could be working with the Juireans.”

Adam and Riyad laughed out loud. The sight of their long, white teeth caused both aliens to recoil slightly before the two Humans could catch themselves. They’d been away from alien society long enough to have forgotten some of their manners.

“We laugh because the idea of Humans and Juireans working together is so preposterous. As a matter of fact, there is a war coming soon between us and the Juireans.”

“There have been rumors. And you expect to win this war?” Dess asked, sarcasm thick in his tone.

“You should ask your cousin if he believes we can win,” Riyad said, matching Dess’s tone.

“What is this proposal you have for me?” Angar asked, quickly changing the subject.

Adam spoke up. “We want you to contact Kroekus and set a meeting for you and him somewhere away from his headquarters.”

Angar stared at Adam for several seconds, waiting to see if the Human was serious or not. When nothing further came from Adam, Angar shook his head.

“Kroekus is a very dangerous being. What makes you think I could even contact him?”

Riyad spread out a wide grin, being cautious this time to keep his mouth closed. “Since you have resurrected the Fringe Pirates, you must be in contact with Kroekus. You forget who you’re talking with.”

“And even if I could, General, it does not sound like you mean to do my relationship with the Silean any good. If I agree to help you, his trust in me could be jeopardized.”

“That’s why I would offer you ten-million credits for your help.”

Angar—as well as his cousin—were visibly stunned by Riyad’s statement. Adam was equally shocked, but he kept his emotions to himself, his main concern being the fact that between the two of them, they didn’t have a single credit, let alone ten-million.

“Ten million…just for arranging a meeting?”

“Not exactly. I also want you to broker the purchase of three Exitor’s from Kroekus and arrange for their transport to a location of my choosing.”

Angar was silent for another long moment. Ten-million credits was a lot of money, even for the new head of the Fringe Pirates. “Do you have the credits with you?” he asked.

“Not yet, but I will. You know what I’m capable of.”

“If I understand…Kroekus will sell three starships, making his profit on them, and I will make ten-million? That doesn’t seem like too bad of a proposition.”

“It’s not. But I need you to arrange the meeting immediately and have pilots standing by to fly the Exitors out as soon as you get the word they’re available. Can you do that?”

Angar looked over at his cousin, who nodded. “I think that can be arranged. But I have never met Kroekus face-to-face. What excuse would I use for meeting outside his office?”

“Tell him the Juireans are looking for you, and you will be arrested if you appeared at his office. He will know what happened the last time a Fringe Pirate showed up at his doorstep. How soon can you be on Silea?”

“Five days. I will contact Kroekus immediately and arrange for the purchase. But, General, I must be assured you will have the credits, not only for me, but for the purchase of the spaceships.”

“Leave that to me. I have vastly more resources than I had before.” Riyad handed him a data chip. “This is encoded. Contact me here with the details of the meeting. At the time of purchase, I will transmit the coordinates where the ships are to be delivered. And one last thing: do not mention my name to Kroekus. That is of paramount importance. ” Then Riyad grinned again. “It’s good to be working with you again, Captain Angar.”

Angar grinned back. “It is General Angar now, sir.”

Chapter 45

Adam and Riyad returned to the battlecruiser and immediately set off for Silea. The cruiser was much swifter than Angar’s ship and would arrive a day before the Nimorian. This would give Adam time to transport his team of SEALs to the surface and prepare them for the operation. The cruiser would hide in the gaseous upper atmosphere of the Silean system’s largest planet, in a delicate balancing act between its own gravity-well and that of the huge planet.

Adam briefed the SEALs on what they would find on Silea. This world was completely different from Calamore, populated by a menagerie of alien creatures. Besides Kaylor and Jym, the SEALs had never seen another intelligent alien, and Adam knew they were in for the shock of their lives.

Just like the last time Adam was on the free-wheeling planet, he set the landing craft down in one of the minor spaceports. The landing craft was not as noticeable as the Cassie-1, so no one paid it much attention. But once on the surface, they ran into the same problem Riyad had when he arrived in the Juirean shuttle—they had no money.

Adam left that problem up to Riyad, who scurried off with a smile on his face. He returned two hours later, the smile still on his face, but now with a stack of credits in his hand.

“It’s like taking candy from…from an alien!” he said with a smile.

Tom Johnson, one of the SEALs in the team, cast him a quizzical look.

“Don’t ask,” was all Riyad said.

With the credits, Adam rented two transports, placing Riyad at the controls of one, and Adam in the other. Adam took four of the SEALs with him and sent the other two with Riyad. The SEALs—including Adam—were decked out in full combat regalia, including two with .300 mag sniper rifles.

When Riyad’s datapad lit up with an incoming message from Angar, he learned that the meeting had been scheduled and was to take place at the north end of Grunnel Park, a large greenbelt area adjacent to the main open-air market in Dargor, the capital city of Silea. The time was set for Day16, which placed it well after sunset. That would help with their plans. The SEALs were all fitted with night-vision goggles.

Riyad placed his transport on a side street along the main road to the meeting place. Kroekus would have no reason to suspect anything out of the ordinary, but he would still be cautious. Riyad would slip in behind the crime lord in the transport and relay directions to Adam, just in case there were any last minute changes. Adam’s SEALs would already be in position overlooking the rendezvous point.

There was a parking area just off the grass where the meeting would take place. Adam sent three of his men across the street to the nearest building next to the parking lot. He stood in the darkness next to the car and watched as the men easily scaled the exterior of the four-story building and took up positions on the roof. Through his comm unit, he could hear his men laughing among themselves at the thrill of the seven-tenths gravity compared to Earth. He almost felt guilty when he told them to cut the chatter. He could still remember his first experience, and how strong and powerful he felt.

Adam and Chip Upton moved into the park and stationed themselves in the cover of some low-lying bushes. This end of the park was deserted, and they could see how most of the booths in the market were closed up for the night. Kroekus would have chosen this location for its privacy.

A transport approached and pulled into the parking lot. It was Angar, and he was alone, as instructed. He stood outside the transport and removed the jacket that covered his green tunic. It was warm at this time of night, and the fur covering most of his body made the jacket unnecessary. The pirate stood in the darkness, looking around nervously. Riyad hadn’t told him there would be others at the meeting, only that the money would be arriving sometime soon.

Adam’s communicator squawked. It was Johnson, who was with Riyad. “Moving into position now, east side of the parking lot.”

“Roger that,” Adam said.

Then Riyad was speaking in his ear. “Three vehicles—Kroekus in the middle. I count four guards in each car, front and rear, plus the ones in with Kroekus.”

“Alpha Team, multiple target scenario,” Adam said. “When they arrive, rotate clockwise from subject and identify with numbers. Each man designate your targets.”

A series of rogers came over the comm. All they had to do now was wait for Kroekus to show himself.

Two minutes later, a parade of white light flooded the parking lot, as the three cars in Kroekus’s caravan entered. The middle car pulled up next to Angar’s transport, while the other two flanked it, their lights pointing inward, illuminating the other two cars.

Adam flipped up his night-vision goggles and sighted along the barrel of his M4. He could clearly see the fat crime boss as he struggled to climb out of the backseat of his transport. Eight Sileans encircled Kroekus and Angar, armed with flash rifles, and scanned the surrounding area for any movement. Two more guards stood to either side of the huge Silean, their eyes fixed on Angar.

“Johnson, one and two,” came a voice through Adam’s comm. “Kendall, three and four….” The count went around until the six SEALs had each identified which targets they would take.

“Riyad, you set?”

“Roger. At the tree to Angar’s six.”

“We go on my command,” Adam said. Through his scope, he watched as Kroekus waddled up to Angar, who shifted nervously as the much taller and bulkier creature approached. Adam was too far away to hear the initial conversation, but he knew it couldn’t continue very long. Riyad had communicated to Angar that the money would be coming along just as the meeting started, and Angar’s nervous glances toward the road was making Kroekus nervous as well.

“Ready,” Adam said. “Go, go, go.”

In the still quiet of the night, Adam could hear the muted puffs of the weapons as bullets were sent toward their targets. The 5.56-millimeter rounds, which were not known for their long range stopping power on Earth, nevertheless exploded into the soft bodies of the Silean guards, literally ripping them apart where contact was made. Even though a few of the SEALs had multiple targets to take out, it was almost as if every guard was hit simultaneously. They dropped into piles of shattered and bloody alien flesh.

Adam was up and on the go, sprinting over the grass with superhuman speed. In a second, he was standing next to Angar, his own weapon leveled at the wide-eyed crime lord. With his slower alien reactions, Kroekus blinked several times, and glanced around to see all his guards lying dead around him. His gaze focused on Adam, and his eyes grew wider.

“You! Do you know what serious trouble you are in?” Even though his words were defiant, his voice trembled as he spoke.

“It is you, Kroekus, who’s in trouble.” Riyad appeared out of the darkness.

Kroekus at first displayed additional shock at seeing the former pirate leader, but then it shifted quickly to one of resignation. He looked at Riyad, then at Adam. He eyed him up and down, taking in the black and gunmetal gray gear he now held confidently in his hands. Two of the SEALs moved in to cover him, their faces marked with black and green grease. The other SEALs remained on station.

Adam and Riyad let Kroekus take in the scene at his own pace. It was important that he realize the hopelessness of his situation.

Angar stood next to Riyad, savage anger on his face. “What are you doing, Riyad?” he shouted, not bothering with his customary General while addressing him. “You never said anything about this.”

“Just a way of getting his attention,” Riyad said without taking his eyes off Kroekus. Riyad allowed himself a wide, toothy grin.

“I’m back,” he said.

“I can see that, and you are with Adam Cain. This cannot be good.”

“That all depends on you, Kroekus. I’m a fair man. We are about to open negotiations, and depending on how they go, you could come out of this okay.”

“Explain yourself. I did not know you were back with the Pirates.”

“He is not!” Angar protested.

“No, I’m here representing a much more powerful force. But first, I would like to conclude a transaction we started well over a year ago, one that was rudely interrupted. It has to do with the credits I have on deposit with you.”

Adam could see Kroekus display a look of frustration on his alien face. The shock of the situation had passed, and from his life-long position of absolute power, he couldn’t see the danger he was in. After all, how could anyone honestly threaten Kroekus, especially here on Silea?

“If you have gone through all this trouble for your five million credits, then take them. I will waive my holding fee.”

Riyad continued to smile as he shook his head. “I appreciate that, Kroekus, but I believe I have another offer for you. Seeing that you have had the use of my credits all this time, I believe you owe me interest for their use.”

Even now the Silean felt he could bargain. “I find this highly unusual, but I can see where a fair amount of interest would be acceptable. What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, let’s see. I think a fair return for the use of my credits would be in the range of…one hundred million credits.”

Both Kroekus and Angar let out audible gasps. “That’s not reasonable!” the crime boss shouted into the night, his words disturbing the silence of the park. “I will not pay you that much. I will not!”

Riyad nodded. “Okay, I said this was a negotiation. So let’s negotiate. I know that even one hundred million is not beyond your ability to pay. In fact, it is still a small part of your assets. So I will make you a deal.”

Riyad stopped speaking and continued to stare at Kroekus with the full-tooth grin.

After a few moments, Kroekus finally spoke. “What…what is this deal?”

“It’s very simple. One hundred million credits…or I kill you right here,” Riyad lifted the MK-17 and placed its barrel against the forehead of the stunned alien.

“You…you cannot be serious? What good would it do for you to kill me? You would not get your credits.”

Riyad lowered the weapon. “You are correct. But killing you is something I have always desired. It would bring me much pleasure to do so.”

Kroekus began to stammer, as spittle drained from his open mouth.

“But let me further sweeten the deal,” Riyad said quickly. “You were brought here so that Angar could purchase three Exitor’s from you. That transaction can still go forward. With the one hundred million credits you now owe me, I will pay you fifty million for the ships.”

“But they are worth twenty-five million each!”

“So I get them at a discount. Isn’t that fair, considering how I was treated at our last negotiation?”

“So I only have to pay you fifty million…for my life?”

“Correct. But you can also consider the fifty million as an initial investment in our new partnership.”

“What partnership?”

Riyad took time to look around at Adam and at the other SEALs surrounding them. He made sure that Kroekus did so as well. “You are a very well-connected and powerful being in the Fringe. As such, you are probably already aware of the attack on my homeworld of Earth by the Juirean fleet.”

“Yes, I am aware. The Juireans are in a panic in this part of the Expansion.”

“That’s because they were defeated, my friend. The almighty Juirean fleet was crushed by the primitive Humans. In addition, you have witnessed first-hand how deadly Humans can be, even as individuals. Imagine a whole planet of us, all rushing into the Fringe to exact our revenge on every alien we see—including you and your Sileans. What I’m offering you is an opportunity to join the winning side in the coming conflict. As you can see from our encounter tonight—plus the annihilation of the Juirean fleet—it will be the Humans who come out on top.”

“I do not understand what you mean.”

“I know you’ll be making a hefty profit from the coming war. Most creatures like you usually do, and from both sides. But I want you to work for us. Go ahead and make your profit off the Juireans. But we need you to relay to us any and all information regarding the Juireans and their allies.”

Kroekus blinked several times. “You just want me to send you information—to spy for you—that is all?”

“That’s all. And for that, I will pay you twenty-five million credits.”

A sour look crossed Kroekus’ face. “Paid from the credits you say I owe you?”

“Now you’re catching on.”

Kroekus managed a thin grin of his own. He had now reached a point where he knew he would survive the evening. “Is there anything else you need to negotiate for tonight, with the credits I still owe you?”

“No, that will do for now. I just need you to release the ownership of the three starships to General Angar’s pilots, and to make arrangements for the delivery of twenty-five million credits to one of the ships.”

“And I suppose you want me to do this now, before we part ways tonight?”

“Of course, my friend.”

Riyad led Kroekus to his transport, where the bloated alien squeezed into the backseat. He took a communicator, and after a few moments of conversation—with Riyad and Adam listening to every word—the transaction was complete.

“It will take about half an hour for the credits to arrive at the ships.” Kroekus had returned to his cocky self. He looked at Adam.

“I once remarked that there was a whole world of your kind out there somewhere, while thinking what a formidable force that would be. It seems my instincts were correct.”

Adam nodded. “One thing you will learn about my kind, Kroekus, is that we may not go out looking for a fight, but we’ll certainly finish one once it starts. Humans are made for fighting, and this conflict that’s coming will be like nothing the galaxy has ever seen.”

“Of that I am sure, Adam Cain.”

Adam leaned in closer to the alien. “Then keep that in mind when the time comes to betray us: no matter how long it takes, we will get our revenge.”

Adam could see the mighty crime boss swallow hard, as a look of fear flashed in his eyes. Hopefully, the alien got the message.

A while later, Riyad stepped up to the open door of the transport. “Just confirmed delivery of the money, and the ships are lifting off. Angar, I’ll have your credits at the rendezvous point.”

Then Riyad leaned into the doorway and smiled at the fat Silean. “So long, and thanks for all the ships!”

Chapter 46

The rendezvous with Angar’s pirates was set for the burned out base on Dimloe. Angar hadn’t been too happy about that, not with the surface gravity on the planet being so oppressive for his kind. But a payday of ten million credits was worth a little discomfort.

The Exitor-class spaceships were some of the largest that could comfortably land on a planet with such a gravity coefficient, and when Adam and his men got a good look at them from ground level, they were truly impressed. Long and sleek, the ships measured approximately one hundred meters in length with a beam covering thirty-five meters. There was a wide forward view port where the bridge was located, and the Humans saw no fewer than four forward bolt turrets, two on each side of the bridge. There was a long, low dorsal-like fin running almost the entire top length of the vessel, which housed the electronics and scanning arrays. A full one-third of the rear section of the ship was comprised of the gravity generators, separated by the landing bay at the rear of the ship.

These ships were fresh off the line, and their surface hulls shimmered with the sparkle of pristine silver paint. Adam’s SEALs were so new to the reality of space travel that they walked around the mean-looking starships with expressions of awe and wonder. Even the concept artists at some of Hollywood’s top special effects companies couldn’t have designed more impressive spaceships.

And now they belonged to Adam and his raiders.

Angar landed a few hours later in his own Exitor-class ship, albeit one in less pristine condition. His had been acquired several years before Riyad joined the pirate ranks, during a merchant ambush in the Void. Since then, it had been through numerous raids and battles and was showing signs of wear. It had been from his ship that the first bolts were fired that disabled the Klin ship Adam had been on, allowing him to escape and live another day. If he’d continued to Dimloe aboard the Klin ship—as a prisoner-abductee—there was no telling where he would be today.

Angar approached Riyad and Adam through the blackened and debris strewn landing field of the base, a look of anger still drawn across his hairy face.

“I hope you are satisfied,” he barked out at Riyad. “I doubt if Kroekus will ever trust me again—for anything!”

Riyad grinned back at the feisty Nimorian. “Relax, Angar. With ten million credits, you no longer need to lead the life of a pirate and can retire to a paradise of your choosing.”

“I don’t want to retire. I like what I do.”

Riyad lifted the box that contained the credits and set it in front of his former associate. In his rush to leave the presence of the Humans, Angar reached forward and grasped the box. The handle slipped out of his tiny hands and the box fell to the floor. The weight of the credits, coupled with the added gravity of Dimloe, made the box heavier than the tiny alien could lift. He looked embarrassingly up at Riyad. “Could you help me with this?”

“Of course, my friend,” Riyad said, as he effortlessly scooped the box up in his arms and began the walk with Angar back to his ship. “You know, you should really consider joining us. As we go about our mission supporting our side in the coming war, I’m not opposed to making some extra credits on the side.”

“I cannot…will not,” Angar answered immediately. “Pirates have never taken sides in any conflict. That is why the Juireans have left us alone, for the most part.”

“As you wish, but the offer stands. But I have to warn you, I don’t think the Humans will respect your declaration of neutrality once the shooting starts. They will see you as just another force of aliens to be defeated.”

Angar stopped in his tracks. “Why would they do that? We intend them no harm.”

“I guess it would be the concept of ‘if you’re not with us, then you’re against us.’”

Angar plopped down on a set of crates that had survived the attack on the base nearly a year before. He looked defeated. “Maybe I will retire.”

Riyad sat down next to him, the box of credits in his lap. “Come on, Angar, join us. It’ll be fun. I could sure use your ships and your pirates. We made a pretty good team, you have to admit that.”

Angar looked over at Riyad and attempted a smile. “Yes, we did…for the most part.” Then his face turned serious. “But you often treated me very badly.”

“I’m sorry about that. But I’ve changed. I was very lost and frustrated at the time. Now I have a different set of priorities and a new perspective on life. I will even let you remain the General of the pirates.”

Angar was silent for several moments. “I can stay in charge? And I can still make credits?”

“Yes! This is wonderful, my friend. You have made a wise decision.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Just stay in contact with us. Once we begin our operations, we will send instructions on how you can help. But in the meantime, anything you hear or see regarding Juirean troop movements, get those to me as soon as possible.” And then he flashed the widest grin he could without displaying his teeth. “But now, go spend some of these credits—and enjoy yourself. You are now a very wealthy Nimorian!”

Chapter 47

“What did he say?” Adam asked as Riyad rejoined him a few minutes later.

“He’s onboard,” Riyad said with a wide, toothy grin. “It looks like our little network of spies and resistance fighters is growing. I’m still not so sure of Kroekus, however.”

“Me neither. But he is a pragmatist, and as such will side with the winning team as soon as possible. We just have to make sure our team is the winning side.”

Riyad ran his hand along the smooth, cool surface of the nearest Exitor. “These will help.”

Adam patted Riyad on the back, and then with a wide grin of his own said, “I’m quite impressed with your negotiating skills. You’re a regular Donald Trump. Remind me to never play poker with you. “

“Yes, it did turn out quite well. And we still have fifteen-million credits. So what now, Boss?”

“Let’s get these ships over to Viemon-2, then the men—and women—from Calamore. The invasion should be only a couple of months away. We need to start making our presence felt in the Fringe. And I think I know just the place to start.”

Chapter 48

Two weeks later, Adam stood in the main control room for the massive airlock of the now-deserted mining colony on Viemon-2, watching the last of the Exitors drop to a smooth chemical landing. This ship was carrying the last of Adam’s SEALs, the last to leave Calamore after securing the base and releasing the non-converts who had not joined them for their fateful trip back to Earth.

Adam knew it would not turn out well for them. He was afraid they would be treated the same as he and the others had been treated four months before. And the Klin would be very anxious to learn all they could about Adam and his activities in the Fringe. He was an unknown the aliens had not planned on, and they would spare no means possible to extract whatever information these men and women could provide.

Adam had also lost over half his scientist population when four of them chose to return home. Seeing that they had never been abducted or held prisoner, Adam was hoping they would be treated better. But he doubted it. They had heard enough stories and been witness to the results of Klin hospitality, that they too would be a risk to the Klin.

After destroying all the communication equipment on the base, Tobias left the 2G’s and yellow-shirts back on Calamore. It was decided that it would be a waste of manpower to keep them prisoner, and no one had the guts to exterminate them. They would just have to fend for themselves as best they could, possibly even starting a tiny Human colony of their own out of necessity—that was until either the Klin or the Juireans discovered them.

As the huge, lumbering overhead doors began to close over the airlock, Adam caught a glimpse of the Hell outside the base. Viemon-2 was hands down the worst planet he’d ever been on. It lay only forty-seven million kilometers from its star, and because of the rare synchronicity of its rotation and orbit, one hemisphere of the planet constantly faced the star, baking that surface in two-thousand-degree heat, while the other froze at a temperature approaching two hundred fifty degrees below zero.

As Carol Nash explained, since the planet didn’t have an atmosphere the extremes of hot and cold did not intermingle on Viemon-2. This allowed for a narrow one-kilometer band between the two extremes to maintain an almost pleasant temperature range of between one hundred forty below and two hundred fifteen above zero. This was a temperature range spacesuits could tolerate.

The mining fanatics on Castor had discovered this abnormality nearly five hundred years before and had been coming to Viemon-2 in their primitive chemical rockets long before the Juireans arrived. Once gravity-drives were introduced, the Castorians set up even larger and more productive operations on the planet. They found the Juireans to be a ready and willing customer for the planet’s natural resources.

But like all endeavors the Castorians undertook, they went overboard, and soon even the rich veins of ore on Viemon-2 tapped out. Now the once-massive mining operation was limited to a small section north of Adam’s location and run completely by robots. Even automated ships would land near the site to transport the ore back to Castor.

When Adam’s forces descended on the world, no one on Castor took notice, and with a surface gravity equal to point-ninety-two of Earth’s, the base was turning out to be just what the doctor ordered.

Lt. Tobias was aboard the last Exitor. He and Adam greeted each other warmly once the airlock was pressurized.

“Well, they’re on their way,” Tobias said, referring to the people returning to Earth. “I tried to warn them, but they wouldn’t listen.”

“That’s okay, LT. I would have opted for the return trip myself if I was in their position.” The two officers began the long walk back toward their quarters. “Are you ready to start causing some damage?”

“Hell, yeah!” Tobias answered. “I heard the stories from the men on Silea. I’m ready to experience some of this superman-like stuff myself.”

“It’s a real head-rush, that’s for sure.”

“So you believe a two-prong attack might be best?”

“Communications over interstellar distances is of major importance. I say we knock out the Juirean’s relay stations first and leave them in the dark, at least temporarily. Any word on when the invasion will start and when the supply ship is expected?”

“I’ll have comm set up with Earth within the day, now that I’ve brought the equipment from Calamore. We’ll be able to get a better feel for the invasion then. But I’m estimating within sixty days. The fleet’s on the way. The supply ship will be here in about two weeks.”

“That’s great news.” Adam said, as they entered one of the underground tunnels where housing had been set up. Adam had a space for Tobias next to his. “No problems on Earth then?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. But that’s a story for another day.”

Chapter 49

There was a large storage hangar at their new base where the SEALs trained. It was also the location where Adam called a final meeting before they embarked on their latest missions.

All eighteen SEALs were there, along with Riyad, Sherri, Chris and Josh Cohen, the Israeli colonel. It had been six weeks since the assault on the Klin base on Calamore, and the SEALs were chomping at the bit for some action. The six who had accompanied Adam and Riyad to Silea had told their stories about the thrill of reduced-gravity operations, and now the rest of them wanted to get into the game. If they were indeed supermen, then they wanted to start acting like them.

“Okay, let’s get started,” Adam began, getting their attention. “Team Alpha will accompany me to Melfora Lum, while Riyad and Team Bravo head for the monitoring station.”

There were backslaps and light ribbing among the military personnel. Lieutenant Tobias raised his hand.

“I still think it’s a bad idea that you go in as part of the assault, Captain.” His voice was serious. “You are in charge now, not one of the grunts.” All the Team members knew what he meant.

“I understand that Andy,” Adam said. “This is just something I have to do.”

“He likes to kill Juireans,” Riyad said with a grin.

“Yeah, who doesn’t?” Tobias said. “But he’s more important to the unit than a single mission.”

Adam could tell the lieutenant wasn’t happy with his decision, especially since he had ordered both Tobias and Chief Rutledge to remain aboard their respective command ships to help coordinate the attacks. Each man would be outfitted with personal homing devices so they could be tracked in real time. They would also serve as the Teams’ navigators, tasked with getting them in and out of the field of battle safely and swiftly.

“Just give me a few early victories, LT,” Adam said, “and then I may choose to sit on my ass back at command and sip coffee, while the real men do all the fighting.”

The light banter covered the more serious nature of the moment. The Humans were about to begin their first direct action against the Juirean Expansion. This would set the tone for all the other missions to come. Cain’s Raiders, as they had come to call themselves, were about to get their first real test against an alien enemy.

“You’ve all been briefed and Team Bravo has been practicing in space against the Juirean cruiser. We’re ready! Saddle up.”

Chapter 50

Adam, Sherri and Peanut, along with eight other SEALs, boarded the first Exitor for the trip to Melfora Lum, a journey of six days from their base on Viemon-2. The other Team was led by Riyad, along with Cohen, Chris Mullis and six SEALs, aboard the second Exitor. The journey to their destination would also take six days. The attacks would take place simultaneously, designed to add confusion and make their small force appear larger than it was.

Rutledge was assigned command of Team Bravo, Tobias of Alpha.

Both ships lifted off smoothly under the anxious and watchful eyes of the other members of Adam’s army. This would be their first real test, and many of the non-military people on Viemon-2 were understandably nervous. If anything tragically befell the Teams, they would be alone on this barren rock, with no real leadership to speak of.

Billy Piscopo was especially troubled. Sherri had been growing more distant from him since their arrival on the planet, and she had insisted on accompanying Adam as part of his Team. Besides the obvious danger involved in the mission, Billy was beginning to suspect that there was more going on between Sherri and Adam than she let on.

Whatever it was, it would have to wait for a few days to be resolved, if then. With the departure of the others, he was put in charge of the base. Now he had more to worry about than just himself.

Chapter 51

Melfora Lum was the headquarters for Juirean activities in the Fringe. A world very similar to Juir, it was the most settled and cosmopolitan of the Fringe Worlds. Throughout its thousands of cities, the inhabitants of the planet tolerated the Juireans as best they could. As Members of the Expansion, they retained the autonomy they’d been promised. Yet with the Juireans setting up base there, most of their internal affairs were influenced by what the Juireans might think. This caused most of their leaders to be more restrictive with their laws than most other Member worlds. This created resentment among the Melforeans—as the natives were called—but not enough to boil over into any real opposition. It was just a feeling they had when thoughts of the Juireans came to mind.

The Juirean command center was in the Melforean city of Hi’Jea. Prior to recent events involving the Humans, the Juireans had confined themselves to a nineteen-kilometer square section of the city called Kri. However, in light of recent events, the Juireans had expanded beyond Kri, and now had barracks, administrative centers and landing fields in nearly every section of the sprawling city. And parked in orbit around the planet were nearly fifty powerful warships, not counting the dozens of others scattered throughout the rest of the Fringe.

Adam’s Exitor-class starship had been christened The Stonewall Jackson, or simply The Jackson, after a long-distant relative of Sherri’s. Adam already had his chance to name a spaceship and had retired the name of the Cassie-1. The less he thought of Maria and Cassie, the better. He respected their memory, but now he had to avenge their deaths.

Sherri jumped at the chance to name the ship and had spent a full week before coming up with a suitable moniker. When she announced her decision, he cringed. “Are you serious? What significance does that have for any of us?”

Sherri was genuinely hurt by Adam’s comments. She stormed out of his room saying, “Screw it! Then you name the damn ship.”

He chased after her and apologized. If old Stonewall had significance to her, then that was good enough for him. After all, who would have named a Juirean Counselor’s shuttle the Cassie-1?

The Jackson began a slow gravity descent toward Hi’Jea after receiving clearance from Entry Command. Gaining clearance had simply taken a cover story that the ship was bringing heavy equipment to the Belsonian Industrial Complex. Adam was also surprised to learn that no onboard inspection would be required, even after they loaded up as many bulky and rusted pieces of equipment as they could find lying around the base on Viemon-2, in case they were boarded. After a few minutes of debate, the crew reasoned that the lack of security must have been from the belief that no one in their right mind would send a strike force against the very center of Juirean strength in the Sector.

That was precisely the reason Adam picked this target.

Because of the tight quarters at the landing field, The Jackson used a chemical landing and set down on the planet around Day16, just as the Melforean sun was setting. Each member of the team began to suit-up for the assault.

Adam sat in his stateroom, Sherri seated next to him, as Tobias and Peanut surveyed the results. “Not bad,” Tobias said with a grin.

“Yeah, you better keep Kaylor away from Sherri, otherwise we may have some alien hanky-panky going on.”

“Knock it off you two,” Sherri said. “This is embarrassing enough as it is.”

Adam and Sherri were each wearing plastic attachments hooked to their ears that wrapped around their chins and across their noses. Each of the attachments had prominent one-inch long protrusions dangling below each ear, looking vaguely like fingers—or some other appendage often not mentioned in mixed company. The attachments had been painted to perfectly match their skin color. Also, they had light blue lines painted on their faces and hands.

The effect was passable, at best. But now Adam and Sherri looked like a cute little Belsonian couple, Kaylor’s race. At night—and at a distance—they hoped it would be enough to get them close to their target.

“Let’s get this over with,” Adam said, as he slipped a large coat over his gear vest, M4 slung over his shoulder. Sherri donned her own oversize coat, and the two aliens headed for the cargo bay.

A quick link as the ship dropped for the surface reserved a large, covered transport for the team, ostensibly for the equipment they were delivering to the Industrial Complex. Adam and Sherri found the vehicle parked a safe distance from the LZ, and drove it back to the ship, where the nine SEALs climbed into the back, each in full combat gear and carrying an extra duffle bag. None of the SEALs were in disguise.

The Belsonian Industrial Complex was located twenty clicks from the landing field, and they made good time by merging onto a transit line that was relatively empty at this time of night.

Peanut stuck his head into the driver’s cockpit. “I don’t see any hover cars or flying suits. What kind of alien world is this, anyway?”

“Yeah, it was kind of a letdown for me, too,” Adam said. “I feel we’ve been duped by all the sci-fi movies.”

“But I sure like the feel of this gravity,” Peanut said. “It’s like I just dropped fifty pounds overnight!”

“Just wait until you start operating in this. It will give you one raging hard—” Adam stopped abruptly, remembering Sherri was seated next to him in the dark. He had too quickly fallen back into his old locker-room habits.

“Were you going to say hard-on, Captain Cain?” she asked. “Why don’t you just say woody, or pocket-rocket, or throbbing gristle, or the holy rail, or the stain-maker? Or even Johnson, if Petty Officer Tom Johnson won’t mind.” Adam could hear the smile in her voice. She always reveled in making men feel uncomfortable with her shocking vocabulary. “Just treat me like one of the guys.”

“Where’d you come up with all those?” Adam asked. “There were a few in there I hadn’t even heard of.”

“Goes with the territory, boys. Goes with the territory.”

The Belsonian Industrial Complex was a large, filthy-looking cluster of ten-story warehouses and manufacturing plants. They refined metal ore into steel here, although of much lower quality and strength than on Earth. The Belsonian government owned most of the equipment, although the Melforeans owned the buildings and the land. It was a complex set up, but it worked for them.

Adam pulled the transport up to the main security gate, leaning back in the seat to keep his face in the shadows. He felt silly with the dangling appendages below his ears, and he could feel them bounce around every time he spoke.

The Belsonians also manufactured parts for Xan-Fi flash rifles in the Complex, but not the entire weapon. Even so, security was very tight entering the area—that was unless you were a Belsonian.

Belson was located eight Sectors closer to the Core, and as such, not a lot of Belsonians resided in the Fringe. Those that did either worked for the company, or were criminals or crewmembers aboard large merchant ships, such as how Kaylor got his start.

The guard stepped forward, as two more cradled Xan-Fi’s in their arms. Once the guard recognized the appendages, his mood lightened considerably.

“Greetings. What is your business here this night?” he asked, setting a steady eye on Sherri’s obvious female form in the dim light of the passenger seat. Belsonians were polygamists, and as such considered any female fair game.

“Just a load of rusty metal for the smelters. So where are you from?” Adam asked.

“Creeses originally, but I was living in Grymore before coming to this stinking place. What about you…and your fine mate?”

“We come from Jelsse,” Adam said, reciting the name of Kaylor’s home town. “We will be returning that way as soon as we make this drop.”

“Possibly you could delay your departure a while as me and my brothers mate with your female?”

“That would be a possibility, just as soon as we make our drop.”

The guard quickly stepped back and motioned for his brothers to open the gate. They had satisfied grins on their faces as the transport moved away and into the Complex. The sooner the truck returned the better.

“I think you really enjoyed pimping me out like that,” Sherri said, feigning insult.

“Anything for a quick buck, my dear. Besides, I didn’t hear you complaining.”

They proceeded deep into the Industrial Complex, following a map Adam had memorized from an orbital view of the area. They came to the edge of the Complex, where a ten-meter-high wall of concrete rose up before them. The height of the wall couldn’t hide the massive, dish-shaped antenna that rose to a dizzying height in the field beyond.

That was their true target: The main communication relay facility for the Juirean Command, the main link between the Fringe and Juir herself.

Chapter 52

Most of the SEALs and non-SEALs aboard Riyad’s ship were somewhat accustomed to space travel by this time, but still, the Barrier up close was always something to behold.

The nebular clouds of gas and debris filled the entire viewport, and the light from every color imaginable painted the pilothouse like a vision from some psychedelic trip. Riyad allowed the men to take in the view for a few minutes before reminding them of their task.

“Let’s get suited up. It’s going to take four hours to get there. Besides, if you think the Barrier is impressive from inside the ship, just wait until you’re outside.”

With that, the members of Team Bravo anxiously filed off the bridge, heading for the cargo bay.

The eight members of the team climbed into heavy spacesuits, one helping the other to squeeze in and seal their suits. Chief Rutledge cinched down the last bolt around Riyad’s helmet and knocked on the lens.

“Y’all come back now, you hear.”

“Yes sir,” Riyad said, flashing his trademark smile.

“I ain’t no sir,” Rutledge replied. “My parents were married.” Then his face turned stone hard. “But seriously, be careful, buddy.”

“Will do, Chief. It’s just a walk in the park—if your park is a zillion-zillion cubic meters of outer space!”

The Team moved to the main exterior airlock dressed in their bulky suits yet aided by the reduction in gravity they’d set for this section of the ship. They crowded in, each carrying a bag strapped to their waist belt.

“Hook up,” Riyad ordered, and they clasped safety lines to loops in the belts. “Okay, here we go.”

The airlock door slid aside and Team Bravo was looking at the brilliance of the Barrier with only two millimeters of glass in the helmets separating them from the great vacuum of space. Even the SEALs, who were used to HALO jumps—high-altitude-low-opening parachute jumps—inhaled sharply. Riyad had made several free-assaults on spaceships before, so he was accustomed to this. But four hours in free flight—that would be a record.

This was the only way they could approach their target undetected. The monitoring station was a large, circular platform sitting at the edge of the Barrier and looking away into the Far Arm. It would be from here that the Human fleet would be first detected. It was imperative they take it out.

With it being such a high-priority facility, it was also heavily guarded.

Riyad had named his ship the Secura, which was the Italian word for free from fear or doubt. It was also the middle name of his mother. Yes, Riyad Tarazi had some Italian blood in him. The Secura had entered the area in dark mode, coasting to within a thousand kilometers of the station. Any closer would put them in range of the station’s mass detectors, which as Jym had explained, sounded a lot like radar. Riyad and his tiny band of free-floaters would be undetectable because of their small size.

Each suit was equipped with a reactive backpack that would propel them to their destination. Riyad activated his pack and began to pull the string of warriors behind him as he set off for the station, which was invisible from this distance. His heart rose up in his chest as Riyad got the impression he was shooting off into the vastness of space, surrounded by an infinite amount of…nothing. It was a humbling experience.

The tiny homing beacon inside his helmet kept them on course, even though after a few minutes of jetting through space, they got no sensation of movement. Nerves were triggered, as the team got the feeling they weren’t going anywhere. Instead, they were frozen in space with no point of reference for light-years around them.

Spirits improved when the tiny dot of the monitoring station came into view. It grew larger by the minute until the true size of the target began to dawn on them.

The station was huge, measuring four hundred meters in diameter. Except for a small maintenance crew housed at the very center of the disk, the station was fully automated. This didn’t mean it wasn’t protected. A dozen or so bolt launchers dotted the surface, linked to automatic fire controls set to destroy any approaching threat. Whether the small mass signature of the approaching SEAL team would be enough to activate the sensors…they would know very soon.

In addition to the gun turrets, there were two small Light Quarter-Ships standing sentry about a thousand meters off the station. They had been moved there a couple of weeks before as a precaution against an attack upon the station. The Juireans could not afford to be without their forward eyes, not with the Humans massing for an invasion of Juirean space.

Riyad signaled for the team to unhook. Johnson and Krug activated their packs and set off for each of the Quarter-Ships. The three remaining SEALs—Krug, Tindal and Weir—along with Riyad, Cohn and Chris, shot out for the large structure of the station.

The Team had practiced maneuvering in the bulky suits around the Juirean battlecruiser. They had learned how to stop their forward momentum, and how to attach themselves to the hull using magnetic knee plates. They also practiced attaching the limpet mines to the hull of the Juirean ship, just as they would on the monitoring station. Yet, even though they had practiced their task ad nauseum, nothing compared to the real thing.

The monitoring station was a lot larger than the Juirean battlecruiser, and being disk-shaped, it made the whole structure seem as though it went on for an eternity in every direction. The team moved under the platform. Once under, however, their minds did a flip-flop with their perspective, and now placed the metal hull of the station below them. This actually helped the saboteurs deal with the immensity of the station much better.

Surprisingly, Jym had been able to pull up a pretty good schematic of the station off the Library. Just as you can find just about anything on the internet back home on Earth, the station revealed its secrets. Each of the men had their designated location on which to place their mines for maximum effect. But as they separated, Riyad began to feel his stomach tighten. He watched each of the other members of his Team fade off to become tiny specks on the surface of the station and looking out at the awesome size of the Barrier now above him, he suddenly felt alone and insignificant. The sooner he set his mines, the sooner he could get back to the Secura.

Riyad lifted his left arm and referred to the tiny screen on the datapad attached to his sleeve. He had two mines to set, and the screen guided him to the points on the hull with relative ease.

He approached a thin metal array that rose about five meters from the smooth metal surface. It was one of the relay antennas for the station. He opened the bag and removed one of the limpet mines the SEALs had brought with them from Earth. The explosives were designed to be attached to the hulls of ships by magnets, so there was no problem attaching to the hull of the station. This blast would penetrate the surface hull and enter the main trunk line to the station’s computers. Added to the simultaneous force from all twelve explosions, the station should be damaged beyond repair. Riyad had been assured the mines would do the trick.

He moved on to his second—and final—location. It was an array similar to the first, yet about twice as tall. As he approached, he noticed a small yellow light flashing above a round glass lens. He moved closer to the lens. It moved.

“Heads up, people, they have monitors on the hull,” he said into the ether.

“Yeah, I saw that, too.” He recognized the voice as that of John Tindal, one of the SEALs. “My light’s turned orange. What about yours?”

Riyad’s yellow light turned orange. Something was happening inside the station. “Mine, too. Be on the lookout for any movement on the surface. Johnson, Krug…how are you coming?”

“This is Krug, I’m on my way back to the rendezvous point.”

“Johnson here, just leaving now.”

“Oh shit!” It was the voice of Josh Cohen.

“What is it?”

“Something that looks like a small tank is coming my way. It’s on metal tracks, with a turret sticking out the front of it. I’ve placed the charge, and now I’m hiding behind the array.”

“Johnson here,” said another voice in Riyad’s helmet. “The ship I’m at just began to move. It’s pointing toward the station. I think the gig is up, boys.”

“Are all the charges set?” Riyad asked. Immediately all the other seven members of his team called out their affirmatives. “Good. I don’t think the Quarter-Ships are going to fire on the station just to knock us off, but I don’t want any tank-like things to take us out either or find the mines.”

“Rutledge here. All members need to activate their packs and scatter. Use your homing beacons to get back to the Secura. When you’re clear, I’ll blow the charges.”

“Roger that,” was Riyad’s reply. “Josh, where’s the tank now?”

“Damn, it’s right here, just on the other side of the array. I keep having to move around it to stay out of sight.”

“I have one coming my way, too.” It was Chris Mullis.

“Rutledge here. Cohen, use the array for cover and activate your pack. I’m blowing the charges in thirty seconds. Everyone go!”

Riyad obeyed, and in a second he was shooting away from the station, heading for open space. The packs operated by released compressed gas, so there were no trails noticeable from any of the packs. He looked toward his feet and watched the station shrink.

Just then, a thin, bright flash of white light shot out from the surface of the station to his right. But the flash wasn’t aimed at him. Instead, it zeroed in on a point off the station, and in seemingly empty space. The streak ended at a point, and a small flare was seen.

“Josh! Acknowledge! His comm’s gone dark.” It was Rutledge back on the Secura.

Silence.

“Cohen, come in.”

Still nothing.

“I’m blowing the charges now, before anyone else gets taken out.”

On the distant surface of the station, Riyad saw numerous simultaneous explosions. Like most explosions in space, the flash from the charges only lasted a split second, but the effect was widespread. At each point where the mines had been set, the hull ripped apart. Most of the force from the explosions was channeled inward; however, when it hit the open voids inside the craft, it expanded rapidly. Secondary explosions erupted from inside the structure, and large pieces of the station began to blow outward.

Off to Riyad’s left, he saw one of the Quarter-Ships also showing the effects of the limpet mines. Large amounts of yellow and green gas were shooting out of a large hole in the aft section of its hull. Another hole toward the forward section was expanding rapidly, also from secondary explosions within the ship.

And then the Juirean warship exploded.

Riyad saw large pieces of shrapnel tumbling toward him, their surfaces lit by the brilliant kaleidoscope of the Barrier. He steered sharply to his left, as a jagged piece came within a hundred meters of him. He changed course by forty-five degrees and was soon clear of most of the debris. He looked back at the monitoring station—or what was left of it.

The mines had done more damage to the station than figured. It was split into three sections, which were each drifting away from each other in what appeared to be slow motion. What lights had been visible on its surface were now dark, the only illumination coming from the Barrier.

There came a click in Riyad’s ear. “This is Rutledge. Give me a status rundown, each of you.”

“Riyad, a-okay,” he said starting the roll call. Soon everyone had checked in, everyone except Cohen.

“Just a question, but can anyone see his remains?” Rutledge’s voice was low and taunt.

“I think I was closest,” said John Tindal’s voice over the comm. “I can’t see anything through all the debris.”

“His tracker is offline, too,” Rutledge said. “Okay, let’s regroup and get the hell out of here.”

There was silence on the comm after that. Riyad found the location of the Secura on his datapad and steered the pack jets in that direction. Four hours would give them plenty of time to mourn their fallen comrade. Their tiny rebel force had just suffered its first casualty—at least as far as Riyad Tarazi knew….

Chapter 53

Adam Cain pulled the transport parallel to the outer wall of the Belsonian Industrial Complex. The SEALs jumped out the back with their extra duffle bags and climbed to the roof of the truck. Even still, the top of the wall was a good three meters above them. Adam and Sherri joined them on the roof.

“Time to fly, boys,” Adam said with a smile. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

The maneuver had already been practiced, so two of the SEALs moved until they were facing each other and joined their hands together. Adam placed a foot in the cradle formed by the SEALs and they easily propelled him into the air. It was almost too much force, as Adam was a meter or so above the top of the wall and in mid-air. He fell back toward the surface, barely managing to land on the top of the meter-wide wall, balancing there for a second before dropping to his knees.

“Dudes, dial back the muscles. In this gravity, you don’t need so much.”

Each of the men wore ear-comms, and Adam heard a variety of chuckles from the team. Being assisted in a jump of around nine feet was something they did on occasion, but they’d nearly thrown Adam over the wall.

One by one, the SEALs assisted each other to the top of the wall. Petty Officer Bob Hawkins would stay with the transport and keep guard. The last person to the top was Sherri, and Hawkins made easy work of the task by lifting her from her waist and into the air. Two SEALs on the wall grabbed her outstretched arms and pulled her to the top.

They secured sharp metal grappling hooks to the wall and lowered four ropes to the grassy field on the other side. However, they didn’t use the ropes to descend—they would be used for their return trip. Instead, each man—and Sherri—jumped from the top and dropped effortlessly to the ground below.

Adam surveyed his team. The giddy smiles from the jump quickly faded, replaced with looks of stern determination. This was their job, and they took it seriously.

The communication relay loomed above them, climbing to a height of three hundred meters. It resembled a large satellite dish, resting on a massive base of metal supports which widen at the base to an area covering a hundred meters square. The entire structure was brightly lit by numerous spotlights, both the array itself, as well as its base.

And there were guards—lots of them.

Near the base were a number of maintenance shacks, and even a building that looked like a small barracks. With the importance of the comm relay, an entire platoon of troops were assigned to protect it. Adam had a fairly good idea as to the troop strength, from the aerial views they’d acquired while in orbit around the planet, waiting for arrival clearance. There were about forty troops guarding the relay, positioned mainly near each of the four corners of the support base.

The team of nine SEALs and Sherri huddled in the cool, meter-high grass, while Adam peered through his scope at the compound surrounding the relay tower. The explosives they had with them would be inadequate to completely destroy the relay tower; their hope was to topple the gargantuan structure, destroying it that way. That would mean concentrating the charges on one particular foot of the base. Adam looked for the easiest target to attack.

With the relay structure bathed in light and surrounded by guards, their task was not going to be easy. Stealth would be preferred, yet as Adam scanned the large support rods leading up from the concrete floor of the base, he was at a loss as to how to keep their mission a secret. He had no doubt that his small squad of SEALs could take out the guards if need be. His issue came with exfiltration after the attack.

He scanned to his right and saw the main entrance to the compound. The other three walls surrounding the communication relay were twice as high as the one running along the Industrial Complex, and there were small flash-weapon turrets dotting the top of the wall, pointed outward. Adam had chosen the route through the Industrial Complex because this bordering wall was shorter and less fortified. The Juireans figured that more security was not called for on this side of the compound since the Industrial Complex was itself a secure facility.

Adam’s team would exit from the same direction which they entered, so he had to have some way of drawing attention away from the extraction point….

“Middleton, Macal and Shores,” Adam whispered; he knew they could hear perfectly through their ear comms. “Take up a position near the main gate. On my signal, open up, with grenades first. We need to make the guards believe an attack is coming from the front. Leave your bags with us.”

Without acknowledgement, the three men set off through the grass and weeds. Each man was equipped with their trusty M4A1 carbines, along with the SOPMOD version with M203 grenade launchers.

“The rest of us will approach the southwest corner of the support structure. Most of the guards will be drawn toward the main gate. This corner is not the farthest from the gate, but if we can get the dish to fall in that direction, it should create a big mess, and give us time to get out safely. Once the relay is down, there should be enough confusion on the scene that the aliens won’t know what hit them. Do you concur, Lt. Tobias?”

From his position back in The Jackson, Tobias had been listening to every word. “I concur, Captain. Try to use a little of that superman shit, if possible.”

“Will do.”

Adam turned to the anxious faces around him. Each of them—including Sherri—had black and green grease streaks on their faces. “Use your knives. We’ll approach until we’re behind that shed, and then take out targets as they present themselves. Let’s go.”

Several of the men had placed grass from the field in their ghillie suits and now blended in perfectly with their surroundings. Four of them set off for the maintenance shack, while Adam, Sherri and the other two SEALs followed behind.

As they got closer, more light illuminated the landscape—something SEALs did not relish—yet they made it to the back of the shed without being spotted. Wheeler, Maldonado, Peanut and Radiches fastened their M4’s to their vests, and then pulled black-bladed SOG knives from their sheathes.

There were five alien guards standing near the closest support for the relay base, with two others walking by the front of the maintenance shack. They were Melforeans, not Juireans.

Adam watched the two aliens approach. They were about two-and-a-half meters tall, with impossibly long arms and angular faces. Their eyes were wide apart and extremely narrow, making Adam wonder how they could see out of them at all.

With a nod to Peanut and Maldonado, the two SEALs leapt from their cover and literally flew the remaining three meters to their targets. Landing behind them, the men wrapped muscular left arms around the chests of the aliens while sliding the blades across their throats. It had been decided that body thrusts against the aliens may not be as effective as slitting their throats, since no one was really sure where their organs were located. It was always a good bet—in the very least—that your target would be silenced with a throat-cut.

The Humans lifted the dead aliens and hustled their bodies behind the shed. The five aliens near the support structure would be more difficult to approach.

“What are these things made out of, Styrofoam?” Carlos Maldonado whispered, as he tossed his dead alien aside. “They’re as light as a feather.”

“Knock it off,” Adam commanded. “I’m going to initiate the diversion at the main gate. Most of the guards should head that way. We’ll take out all who don’t. Hill and Radiches, take up covering positions. The rest of us will get in and attach the charges.”

Everyone nodded their understanding. “Main gate, go with assault.”

Almost immediately, the team heard the poof, poof, poof of M203 grenades being launched from their tubes. The men shot them high in the air, so they landed on each side of the main gate. Brilliant and ear-shattering explosions filled the night. Three more explosions immediately rocked the scene. Adam saw several of the thin-boned Melforeans fall to the concussion and shrapnel. Then he heard the distinctive sound of M4 fire, intermingled with random blasts from several flash rifles.

Adam lifted his M4 and looked through the scope. He had trouble believing what he saw. The Melforeans at the gate were firing at each other. This was an added bonus he hadn’t counted on.

In front of the shed, a dozen or more guards raced by. Unfortunately, six others took up firing positions within the very support structure his team had to reach.

“Take them out,” Adam commanded. Immediately, several quick blasts of suppressed muzzle fire sounded to his right. Two seconds later, the six aliens were dead, their bodies literally ripped apart by the force of the 5.56mm rounds.

The team set off over the hard concrete surface for the nearest support stanchions. With Hill and Radiches crouched on one knee, looking outward, the rest of the team set about attaching limpet mines to the towering metal support elements for the relay dish several stories above. They set the charges, and then moved farther into the jungle-gym of meter-thick metal supports, setting more charges as they went.

“Captain, something’s approaching!” Hill called out.

Adam handed his bag to Sherri, who returned his worried look with a wide-eyed look of her own. “I’m on my way,” he said, and then set off through the forest of white metal bars.

Adam slipped in next to Randy Hill, who had taken cover behind a wide, right-angle beam of the structure. Adam looked in the direction Hill was pointing.

Through the splash of light shining up onto the array, two electric carts were approaching on the concrete pad that surrounded the base of the relay tower. They looked something like Segways, the one-person electric carts from Earth. Yet each of these had an alien standing at the controls, and a mean-looking, industrial-sized flash rifle protruding from its front. In the side light from the spotlights, Adam noticed the light blue shimmer of a diffusion screen surrounding each of the carts.

The carts swung up in front of them, yet they did not fire. Instead, one of the aliens called out, “Please cease your activities and surrender immediately.”

Adam thought it was the most-polite way anyone had ever asked him to surrender, and yet he knew it was just the way most aliens talked. The two native guards made no attempt to cover themselves, knowing they were safe behind the diffusion screen.

Adam smiled and turned to the other SEAL. “Watch this.”

He stepped from behind the metal support and into the open. Then in a blink of an eye, he lifted his M4 and sent two quick blasts into the body of one of the guards. The non-electric bullets passed through the diffusion screen as if it wasn’t there. The guard on the left looked over at the shattered remains of his companion, his narrow mouth now hanging open in shock.

After a second, he turned his attention back to Adam, who already had his weapon aimed at the guard. Adam winked, before fingering the trigger.

Returning to Hill, who was frowning. “I don’t get it?”

“The carts were shielded by a thing called a diffusion screen. Unfortunately for our alien friends, they only stop things with electrical charges, like the bolt weapons everyone uses here. They’re no good against bullets.”

“That’s good to know.”

Just then, the rest of the team came out of the maze of the support base. Sherri’s eyes were wide, a wild look of excitement in them. “All the charges are set, sir!” she said with enthusiasm. Adam could see the almost-sexual response she was having to the whole operation. This was really turning her on.

Adam sent her a smile. “Good. Let’s get back to the wall and blow this thing. You at the gate, pull back. Meet us at the extraction point.”

“Roger that,” came the immediate reply.

Even after the SEALs retreated from the main gate, there was still firing going on. It seemed that the guards inside the compound were in an intense firefight with those outside the gate, each thinking the other party was the aggressor. The commotion allowed the team to sprint back for the wall at speeds that would have broken every Olympic record in the hundred-meter dash. In turn, they scaled the wall with the help of the ropes they’d left earlier.

Adam was the last one on top of the wall. He crouched on one knee and pulled the detonator control from his left thigh pocket. Without hesitation, he flipped up the cover and pressed the button.

One tremendous explosion rocked the base of the relay tower as all the charges when off simultaneously. It was so powerful that the concussion reached him sitting atop the wall of the compound. But it only lasted for a moment before the brilliance of the blast was lost to the night. Adam’s heart sank, as he saw that the relay dish hadn’t moved an inch.

Then a high-pitched squeal reached his ears, like the sound of a hundred screaming banshees, baying in the night. The sound of flash bolts coming from the main gate area ceased, and a deathly silence fell over the compound—all except for the tortured groaning emanating from the relay support base.

Then…movement.

Adam saw the mighty tower begin to lean—ever so slowly—and then faster. As the relay dish began to topple, Adam heard the hysterical screams of aliens near the front gate. The dish was falling their way, and the realization was just now dawning on the Melforeans.

Faster and faster the dish fell, until it crashed to the ground in a thundering cloud of dust and smoke. The wall Adam was on trembled from the impact, as pieces of cracked concrete began to fall from its face.

He jumped to the top of the transport truck and then to the ground before the wall crumbled completely. He slipped into the driver’s seat and sent the truck pulling away from the falling debris. Sherri sat in the passenger seat, a wide smile stretching from her lips, her eyes wide. Suddenly, she leaned over and pulled Adam’s face to hers, while planting a hard, wet kiss on his lips, the first in many months.

When she released him, she held up the flimsy Belsonian mask she’d been wearing. “Do we really need these things anymore?” she asked, the grin never leaving her face.

“Nah. I prefer to keep my dingle-berries in my pants, and not dangling from my ears!”

Soon the truck was rumbling through the chaotic streets of the Industrial Complex, as more creatures struggled to find out what all the commotion was about. There had been explosions and bolt-fire…and now a quake of some kind.

As they approached the gate, Adam and Sherri saw the guards were in a panic as well. From their vantage point, they could see that the mighty communication relay had collapsed, and from all the sounds of battle coming from that direction, they knew there’d been an attack on the facility. The guards too were busy fortifying the gate against entry into the Complex that they hardly noticed Adam’s huge transport truck race through the gate.

Chapter 54

Within two hours of the attack, Adam and his team were back aboard the Jackson, its generators charging, preparing for liftoff.

Adam and Sherri joined Tobias in the pilothouse. The lieutenant had become a pretty proficient pilot; he was in the pilot’s seat, Kaylor to his right in the second chair.

“Any word from the Chief and Riyad?” Adam asked, as he watched the planet of Melfora Lum fall away below him.

He noticed that Tobias did not answer immediately. “What happened?”

“We lost Cohen. Some kind of automated sentry robot. Shot him as he was getting off the station.” Tobias didn’t turn as he spoke the truncated sentences.

Adam was silent for a long moment. He hadn’t known Josh Cohen for long—or very well for that matter—yet he did respect the man. And since their numbers were so few, every loss of life was a tragedy.

“He’ll be missed,” Adam finally said.

“Hear, hear,” was Tobias’ standard reply.

Unfortunately, Adam had heard him recite the phrase too many times in the past, and as their mission against the Juireans grew longer and more intense, Adam was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

Chapter 55

Two weeks later, the supply ship arrived from Earth. Everyone gathered around the alien flying saucer and greeted the crew who had volunteered for the five-month-long voyage. They were all military personnel, twelve men and three women.

Six of the men would be remaining as part of Adam’s slowly-growing strike force. All the new arrivals moved about the base with expressions of both wonderment, and uncertainty. Adam watched their faces change with the second; one moment saying, “What an adventure,” to the next asking, “What the hell am I doing here?” It couldn’t be easy on them, but in light of what happened on Earth, many more had wanted to come and join the force. These were just the first of many.

The leader of the group was Warrant Officer 3 Darren Cole. He was U.S. Army Special Forces, a helo pilot, who had flown over fifty missions throughout Afghanistan and Iraq. A tall, stocky man crowding two hundred twenty-five pounds and forty-four years of age, he had lost his entire family to the Juirean attack, and as such, he was out for blood—even green blood if that’s what the alien bastards had.

Adam liked his attitude; he would fit right in.

But more than that, everyone was anxious for first-hand news about home. Although communications had been established with Earth, messages took four hours to be sent back and forth, and they had to be very careful with what was said in case curious ears were listening in.

Cole and his second, a gunnery sergeant named Kyle Littlefield, joined Adam and his top lieutenants in Adam’s quarters. The base had once been manned by living beings, who figured that if they had to suffer through a tour of duty on this hellish rock, they would at least do it in comfort. Accommodations on the base were huge and with all the comforts of an alien home.

After the raids on Melfora Lum and the monitoring station, the members of Adam’s army were feeling pretty good about themselves, even though they felt guilty celebrating in light of Cohen’s death. The SEALs handled it better; they’d been there before, far too many times. But now the top brass were all scattered around Adam’s room, anxious to hear what Cole had to tell them.

“It’s been really tough,” he was saying. “Can you imagine over a billion people killed in one day—not even a day—but a few hours? Some people just went berserk and there were mass suicides all over the place. They thought it was the End of Days…or something like that.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your family,” Sherri said. She was seated on a large couch next to Adam.

“Thanks. It’s hard to wallow in one’s sorrow when there’s enough death around for everyone.”

“What’s the mood of the planet?” Lt. Tobias asked.

“It’s better, I guess. It seems like most of the people have bought into the idea of getting revenge against the Juireans.”

Sherri kicked Adam in the ankle, gently. He looked over and gave her a wry smile. Revenge was going around, it seemed.

“They can’t build ships fast enough for all the people looking to join up. The fleet’s on its way, and there’ll be another ready in about nine months, they tell me.”

Cole was part of Admiral Allen’s inner circle, so he was aware of the role the Klin had played in starting the war. “Any word about the Klin or the 2G’s?” Adam asked.

“Except for a few of us, everyone still thinks they’re the cat’s meow. Do you know they even go around with ‘Savior’ written on their shirt pockets?”

“No shit?” Chris said. “Those goddamn bastards.”

Then Cole smiled. “Don’t worry about them too much,” he said. “Admiral Allen has them figured out pretty well, along with the President and Admiral Keller. The 2G’s may come from the same stock as the rest of us, but they’re really missing what it means to be Human. Admiral Allen plays them like a violin. They don’t have any concept of sarcasm, or even of lying. And they’re so starved for acceptance that all the Admiral has to do is throw a few compliments their way, and he can get anything he wants.” Then his face turned serious. “It’s the converts we have to watch out for. Talk about bastards, those guys are the real traitors—”

He stopped abruptly and looked embarrassingly at Adam.

“Don’t worry about it, Mr. Cole,” Adam said. “I’ve gotten used to the label by now.”

“Well, Mr. Cain, I’m supposed to tell you that the President apologizes for everything he said about you. He knows now that you—and all of you—were set up. He says that when this is all over, he’ll make sure your name is cleared, and that you’ll get the recognition you deserve.”

Adam nodded at the Warrant Officer, slightly embarrassed. “That’s what I’ve been told. But frankly, I’d be happy if he can just keep the supplies coming, so I can kill more aliens.” He smiled broadly. “And with you and your men joining the effort, we can now chalk up even higher scores.”

Cole turned serious. “Oh, and one other thing; the Saviors—I mean the 2G’s—have somehow found out about you being out here.”

“How did that happen?”

“It’s the converts, like I said. These guys were born and raised on Earth, and then voluntarily joined the Klin. They’re not so easily spotted. They’re trying to infiltrate nearly all of our operations.”

“Any luck?” Riyad asked.

“Some. One of them got really close to Admiral Keller, before he and Allen purged his ass off.” He smiled again. “He’s working for us, now.”

“Glad to hear it,” Adam said.

And then Adam Cain looked around the room at the anxious faces gathered there. Everyone was smiling and talking with each other. There seemed to be a renewed spirit in his little clan, and a common belief that they could actually contribute to the war effort.

Adam would continue to lead them, and yet he was still waiting for that one moment, that one instance, when he felt he was getting the revenge he so desperately sought. It may be just a fool’s errand—a calling that had consumed the souls of countless people before him—each seeking their own form of justice, of redemption.

But there was one thing that Adam Cain knew for sure: He wouldn’t stop until justice was done—or he was dead.

Chapter 56

Fleet Marshal Relion entered the private chambers of Council Elder Hydon with a look of concern on this face. Hydon looked up from his work desk and noticed the expression. The Marshal was not prone to physical displays of his emotions. This had to be serious.

“Yes Relion, please give me your report.” With a wave of his hand, Hydon offered the other Juirean a seat.

“My Lord, we have lost contact with Sector 17.”

“Explain.”

“All relay communications with the Sector and the Juirean headquarters on Melfora Lum ceased abruptly. There is also a major sentry station near what they call The Barrier that is now offline.”

“How long until links can be reestablished?”

“It could take up to six months, my Lord. We’re re-routing thin communications through some of the larger ship’s relay units,” was Relion’s answer. The look of concern didn’t leave his face.

“Do you think this is the start of the invasion, Fleet Marshal?”

“If not, then it is a precursor. It also demonstrates that there are Human forces already operating within the Sector.”

“What is the status of our blocking forces in the region?”

“Another one hundred ships are in route, arrival time estimated to be one month.”

Hydon was silent for a moment as he weighed the scenarios in his head. “That could be very close. If the invasion has started, we will know in a few days. If not, then I agree, it is very near, and our additional forces may not arrive in time. Monitor all civilian links coming out of the Sector for any indication of hostile activities until a direct link can be reestablished with Melfora Lum.”

“Those procedures have already been implemented, my Lord.”

“Good. I would expect nothing less.” The Elder hesitated as another thought came to mind. “You believe there are Human forces already present in the Sector?” he asked. Relion nodded his agreement. “Then we must establish a counter force of covert agents of our own to address this threat. Undoubtedly, this group of Human saboteurs will continue to move farther into Juirean territory as the invasion progresses. We must identify and destroy them before they can have an impact on the field of battle.”

“Yes, my Lord. I will employ many of our existing agents yet put them under the leadership of a new directorate to be based out of my headquarters. We will fight their strategy with a matching one of our own.”

“Exactly. We cannot allow the Human agents to operate with impunity within our territory. They must be found out and eliminated. These Humans are proving to be a diabolical and shifty opponent, and it appears they are well-versed at the ways of war. It may be wise for us to learn from their actions, so we may become better warriors ourselves. It has been a long time since we have faced such a foe. The Juirean people may be strong, but the Humans are proving to be ruthless and cunning. All the more reason why they must be destroyed at all costs.”

Chapter 57

Nigel McCarthy and Carter Thomas approached Limmore through the meditation gate of his estate and walked up to the Senior Fellow without invite. This action annoyed Limmore to no end, but he chose not to display his emotions to the approaching Humans. Instead, he remained seated on the hard wooden bench, waiting for his uninvited guests to begin the conversation. He didn’t have to wait long, as the brutish McCarthy began speaking right away.

“Cain and his raiders have destroyed the relay station on Melfora Lum, cutting off all communications between Juir and their forces in the Fringe. The fleet is not yet to the Barrier. Those bastards are telegraphing our invasion to the Juireans!”

Internally, Limmore smiled. He knew McCarthy and his associates believed him to be a major decision maker in the Klin hierarchy, often coming to him with their concerns, looking for guidance or authority to act. However, little did they know, Limmore was closer to what the Humans would call a psychologist, rather than a strategist or a person of power. He was assigned to study the Humans and to manipulate their various actions to fit the needs of the Klin. He—and other members of his fraternity—had been at their task for nearly a thousand years, beginning right after the primitive and barbaric race had first been discovered. Even then, the Human race showed great promise as a potential surrogate in the Klin plans against the Juireans, and to date, they had not disappointed.

But lately they’d proven to be slightly unpredictable. This renegade force operating within the Fringe was a perfect example.

But not so Nigel McCarthy; he was as predictable as the change from day to night.

“The Juirean elements in the Fringe are still inadequate to resist your forces, Mister McCarthy, and the actions of Mister’s Cain and Tarazi are of minor significance. The Juireans will soon reestablish communications and the invasion will proceed as planned.”

“Can’t your people in the Fringe do anything to stop them? And they appear to be getting help from people back on Earth.”

Now this was news Limmore found interesting. “Do they know the person they are assisting?”

“Yes they do! That’s what’s so unbelievable. Even after blaming Cain for the Juirean attack, they’re still helping him.”

Limmore thought for a moment. If there were elements on Earth who were helping the traitor Adam Cain, then they must not believe him to be responsible for the Juirean attack. That would mean others believe the Klin to be responsible, and this could cause a loss of control over a segment of the Human population—

“Well? What are you going to do about this?” McCarthy demanded, after Limmore took longer than the Human felt he needed for comment.

Limmore intentionally took another moment or so before answering. The arrogant and bombastic Nigel McCarthy was such a chore to deal with; it took incredible patience on Limmore’s part every time they interacted.

“We will look into the situation. It is obvious that some of the Humans on Earth do not believe Cain to be the traitor we portrayed him to be. But even then, the Humans have no choice but to continue working with the 2G’s. Without our help, they are no match for the Juireans.”

McCarthy grinned. “That remains to be seen. We made pretty easy work of them when they attacked the Earth. It seems like you Klin need us, as much as we need you.”

Limmore displayed a full-tooth smile at the Human, knowing that the naïve creature would see this action as a sign of friendship and agreement. However, Limmore knew it to be a challenge. The stupid Humans were so arrogant as to believe that they were the only race the Klin had recruited in their struggle against the Juireans. Limmore also knew the Klin’s own time of Reckoning—in regard to the Juireans—was close at hand. Yet he truly doubted that it would come at the hands of these obnoxious and disgusting creatures.

But for the time being, these fools would serve their purpose—if only as fodder in the coming war with the Juireans.

The End

Next up…

A free preview of

The Tactics of Revenge

Book #4 of

The Human Chronicles Saga

Adam Cain…

…is an alien with an attitude.

His story continues…

Chapter 1

The Humans caused all of this…

As Poul walked quickly down the concrete walkway toward Lann Hall, he couldn’t decide whether he was happy or sad. In either case, tonight would be a life-altering event for him, and if one thing was for certain, he was glad to be out of his chamber and away from the chattering of his mates.

Poul had to admit times were tough on Hyben. Ever since the Juireans had pulled their ships out of the maintenance yards and sent them off to confront the evil Human threat, his hours had been cut back drastically, and what credits he did have in reserve had been quickly exhausted. And now his lumic-mate was badgering him constantly about the lack of mature food he was bringing into the chamber—with the nagging urged on by his two nin-mates. For their part, the females were doing the best they could, producing pups at a feverish pace. Yet even then, it was barely enough to keep the older offspring fed.

That practice—of feeding freshborns to newvins—was another problem for Poul, and one potentially greater than the financial difficulties he was in. The succulent meat of the recently emerged freshborns carried within it all the essential chemicals and nutrients that his older offspring required. Yet as more of their diet consisted of freshborn flesh, they risked addiction to the taste of their brethren. As adults, Poul and his mates could resist the urges, but not so the younger members of his pod. If he could not provide more mature meat for his family—and soon—then all his offspring would be forever lost to the blood-lust for young meat.

As newvins, this practice was accepted, if frowned upon. But as adults, the killing and devouring of freshborns was strictly forbidden. If something wasn’t done soon, his older offspring would be hopelessly consumed by the desire for this forbidden flesh, and they would seek it out, either from his pod or from others. Already, there were reports of newvin attacks on outside pods. And now Poul—within his own chamber—was breeding a new horde of these potential cannibalistic feeders.

It was bad all over Hyben, and even though no formal battle had yet been joined between the Juireans and the Humans within Expansion space, the coming war was already having a devastating effect on his planet, as well as the Sector as a whole.

As it turned out, the rumors had been true, and the population of the Expansion soon learned the shocking reality behind the recent attack upon a planet called Earth—and the resulting destruction of the Juirean fleet. At first, many had refused to believe the stories, but now even the Juirean-controlled newscasts were reporting on the defeat.

Poul found the news to be of considerable distress. It had been over four hundred years since the Juireans had first swept down upon Hyben, dispelling any disbelief in the existence of other life forms within the galaxy, and as the centuries passed, the natives of Hyben had become completely integrated into the Juirean Expansion. The planet now served as a major maintenance hub for most of the starships traveling throughout the nearby Sectors, with dozens of off-world species intermingled among its native population. If the Juireans were now vulnerable to defeat then the entire structure of the Expansion was at risk. And where would that leave his planet, his race and his pod?

For his part, Poul had once been a very accomplished tech-installer, maneuvering expertly within the narrow confines of any number of major-class starships, working on various gravity generators, air purifiers, computer modules and more. It was this experience he was counting on to land him a well-paying position aboard one of the hundreds of new Class-5 warships soon to be coming out of the Sectors beyond the Core.

Even now, the Juireans were engaged in a massive building frenzy, the likes of which had not been seen since the days of The Mass. Yet as they turned out dozens of new starships every month, the Juireans soon discovered a problem. They had the means of production and they had the materials; what they lacked were the crews for all the new ships being built to counter the marauding Human invaders.

And that was the impetus for the meeting taking place that evening in Lann Hall.

If Poul could find work aboard one of these new warships he would immediately gain two distinct benefits. First, he would earn enough credits to provide a better life for him and his pod, including mature meat for the newvins, sparing them the possibility of having to be put down by the authorities. And secondly, it would get him off the planet—and away from the constant berating from his mates.

As Poul hurried to the meeting, he firmed his resolve to do whatever it took to gain employment with the Juireans—even if such employment did carry with it the danger of confronting the evil Human barbarians. Yet in light of his current financial situation, it was a risk he was willing to take.

However, as he rounded the corner of Jun and Myyu Streets, Poul’s heart sank. There—in the dimming light of early evening—he saw a long line of Primes, snaking its way out of Lann Hall and wrapping around the entire building. There were at least a thousand other beings all there with the same goal in mind as he.

Dejected, Poul stepped to the back of the line, just behind two shorter creatures in black cloaks and hoods and prayed to the Bello Gods that the Juireans were looking for more than just a hand-full of new recruits for their ships this evening. After all, he couldn’t face the prospect of returning to his chamber with bad news for his mates. If he did, they just might set upon him in a feeding frenzy of their own.

As more creatures lined up behind him, each seeking their own ounce of salvation from the depressed economy, Poul produced a wry grin and thought: If my mates did fill their bellies with my flesh, at least then my troubles would be over. I wonder what I actually taste like?

Nerves soon got the better of him and Poul began to chat with the other beings in the line. The native behind him was named Jyyl, and he had worked at the power generating plant in Muull until the workforce had been cut back six months before. He was an expert with containment chambers, and Poul agreed that Jyyl’s skills should be in demand aboard any decent-sized starship. Jyyl returned the encouragement to Poul.

The smaller of the hooded creatures in front of him was more talkative than the taller one. It was a female, and she agreed that the need was great for crews aboard the new Juirean ships, saying there should be plenty of work for all.

As the line moved inexorably forward, Poul’s mood improved. Even though there were more than a thousand applicants for the crews there that night—with more joining the line every minute—he was feeling much better about his chances.

Eventually, Poul entered the hall and the line continued to wind its way toward the table where the Juireans sat. There were five of them, all green-haired Guards, looking serious—and bored. Poul had encountered numerous Juireans aboard the ships he serviced, although he had never spoken with one directly. He was both nervous—and excited—at the prospect of having an actual conversation with one.

As he fixated on the Juireans, Poul couldn’t help but notice that the table they sat at was surrounded by eight very large and impressive-looking creatures of a species he didn’t recognize. He knew the Juireans often traveled with bodyguards these days, a practice Poul found particularly disturbing. After all, these were Juireans, the leaders of the Expansion. The fact that they now required guards themselves meant that the Human threat was apparently much more serious than first believed.

Poul tried to put these thoughts out of his mind, but that became more difficult when he noticed the two massive electronic posters displayed on the walls behind the Juireans. Each showed the same larger-than-life Prime, with powerful, muscular arms streaked with bulging blue veins. The creature was naked from the waist up, with bandoliers of Xan-Fi power packs crisscrossing his chest, and in his hands he cradled an evil-looking double-barrel flash rifle. The beast was displaying blood-dripping fangs and horns sprouted from his forehead, just above the red, fierce eyes that stared down at all in the room that evening.

Above the image—and written in Hyben with letters standing two meters tall—were the words: “This is YOUR Enemy. This creature will destroy your homes, your families, your way of life. Beware the Human Savage. Join the Juirean cause today and save your worlds. Signing advance available.”

Poul swallowed hard, staring at the image. He could not understand Juirean logic; an image such as this did nothing to firm his resolve. Rather, it only made him question his decision to come here in the first place. After all, the Hyben were more pacifists than warriors. In fact, if it wasn’t for the dire financial condition he was in, Poul would have left the hall that moment and returned to the safety and security of his chamber, far beneath the warm, red soil of his homeworld.

Poul glanced around the room, noticing a number of additional tables set up where members from a dozen different species were all seated before Hyben bureaucrats, each busily entering data into computer terminals. Very few of the occupants in the hall were being turned away; it appeared the Juireans were taking all comers. Poul looked up at the menacing image again and then back at the tables where recruits were being enlisted. By now, he was only a few creatures from the Juireans; it was now or never. If he was going to change his mind, it would have to be soon….

The two hooded figures in front of him moved up to the Juirean table.

“State your name and race,” one of the Juireans commanded without looking up.

The taller of the beings spoke first. “I have a question: Do you allow mating pairs to enlist together?”

The Juirean glanced up. “That depends. Does your mate have any skills that would be of value?”

The female stepped a little closer to the table. “Yes,” she stated. “I have skills.” She then reached up and pulled the hood back from her head, revealing a cascade of long yellow hair. “I’m very good at killing Juirean scum—like you!”

In a flash, the female produced a half-meter long double-edged sword. She displayed it momentarily before the widening eyes of the five Juireans seated at the table. Then with a push of a button on the hilt, the sword expanded out to a full meter in length. With a flick of her wrist, she sent the shiny blade in the direction of the Juirean who had been speaking; an instant later his head separated from his neck and tumbled sideways to the floor.

Before the others could react, the female had severed the head of the Juirean to her right, while the other hooded creature produced a blade of his own, decapitating the other three Juirean Guards in a single, fluid motion of his sword.

Poul was sprayed with Juirean blood as he stood in shocked disbelief, before being shoved out of the way by a surge of bodyguards, all rushing forward to pile upon the two assassins. Poul fell back into the line of waiting recruits, starting a cascade of tumbling bodies that continued through at least twenty or more of the beings behind him.

Through his panic and confusion, Poul now saw two large piles of bodyguards, completely subduing the killers. But then a blood-covered blade suddenly shot out of the back of one of the guards; it quickly receded, only to appear a breath later out of the back of another. In the meantime, one of the hulking guards in the other pile flew into the air and landed face up in front of Poul. The guard’s eyes were closed, and although Poul could see no wounds, he instinctively knew the creature was dead.

And then the two assassins exploded out of the piles of now-dead guards, standing with fierce, wild looks in their eyes, blood dripping down their faces and staining their clothing. As Poul lay on the bed of creatures who had fallen with him, he looked at the face of the male assassin, and then at the image looming behind him on the wall. Except for the lack of horns and fangs, the creature standing before him was a Human!

The stampede had begun, and Poul strained to regain his feet and make his way to the exit. Yet before he could, the female Human shot past him at an unbelievable speed, crashing through the panicked crowd to place her back against the double exit doors, preventing any in the room from escaping. The Human male then jumped effortlessly to the top of the table, where only moments before the five Juireans had sat. He threw off his blood-soaked cloak and swung a Xan-Fi flash rifle from around his back. He lifted the deadly weapon in his hands and sent a bolt into the ceiling.

The room became deathly quiet, as all eyes fell upon the Human. Holding the flash rifle as he did, the image of the savage Human killer was now complete. This was the enemy—and the enemy was here, on Poul’s planet.

The Human waved the rifle to his left. “All of you move to this side of the room—hurry!” And then the creature pointed the barrel of the rifle directly at him. “Everyone except you.”

Poul nearly fainted, and his nin-arms began to click and quiver uncontrollably. He used his mid-arms to place the nins in his pockets to still them, and then rose slowly to his feet. The Human was staring at him.

“You seem like a peaceful creature,” the Human said to him. “Why do you want to fight against us? Our war is with the Juireans, not you.”

Poul was surprised that words could still emanate from his throat, even though they cracked as they did so. “I do not want to fight you. I just need the credits to support my pod.”

The creature nodded. “I can understand that.” Then the Human looked behind the table and down at the boxes of Juirean credits sitting on the floor, the source of the signing advance most of the recruits were to receive that evening. He turned to address the room.

“My name is Adam Cain—remember that; you will be asked. We Humans are at war with the Juireans because they came to our homeworld and killed over a billion of our people. We were no threat to them, yet they attacked anyway, purely out of fear and evil intent. But you can be assured that we will not rest until every last Juirean is dead. You can join them…and die. Or you can remain neutral, and you will not be harmed. The choice is yours.” Then the creature looked down at Poul. “Come here,” he commanded, as he jumped off the back of the table.

Poul did as he was told. The Human bent down and scooped up a large handful of credits from one of the boxes. He reached across the table and began to stuff the chips into a pocket of Poul’s robe. The blood-stained creature repeated the process three more times, until Poul’s pockets were bulging with easily a year or two worth of income. His heart pounded in his throat, and he was growing light-headed.

“All of you in this room will receive a share of the credits the Juireans brought with them. Use them as best you can. When Humans win this war—and we will—trade will not be restricted among the worlds, nor will we horde the secrets of technology. You will be allowed to start businesses and to prosper as never before.” The Human—Adam Cain was his name—looked again at Poul. “You only have to fear us if you join the Juireans. If not, then we will leave you in peace. Now you, come over here and start passing out these credits for as long as they last.”

And then the Human rapidly closed and opened one eye at him—just one. Poul was at a lost as to the meaning of the gesture, but he sensed he and the blood-soaked beast had shared a moment, a connection of some sort. A heartbeat later, the creature was gone, dashing from the hall, with the female close behind.

For a moment, no one in the room moved, and then suddenly there was a surge toward the table where Poul stood. Whether it was out of a sense of duty—or survival—Poul began to place stacks of credits into the eager hands of the other occupants in the hall. He continued to pass out the chips as fast as he could, his actions maintaining a delicate balance between hysteria and panic within the noisy crowd of wide-eyed creatures.

These credits would help, Poul thought—for a while. But then he would have a decision to make. He could continue down his current path, or he could try to find another line of work, one not associated with Juireans or the weapons of war. In light of the encounter he’d just had with the Human beast, the latter path seemed like the most-sensible—and healthy—to follow.

The End of this FREE preview of

The Tactics of Revenge

Book #4 of

The Human Chronicles Saga

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Novels by T.R. Harris

Human for Hire Series

Human For Hire

Human for Hire (2) - Soldier of Fortune

Human for Hire (3) — Devil’s Gate

The Human Chronicles Legacy Series

Raiders of the Shadow

War of Attrition

Secondary Protocol

Lifeforce

Battle Formation

Allied Command

The Adam Cain Saga

The Dead Worlds

Empires

Battle Plan

Galactic Vortex

Dark Energy

Universal Law

The Formation Code

The Quantum Enigma

Children of the Aris

The Human Chronicles

The Fringe Worlds

Alien Assassin

The War of Pawns

The Tactics of Revenge

The Legend of Earth

Cain’s Crusaders

The Apex Predator

A Galaxy to Conquer

The Masters of War

Prelude to War

The Unreachable Stars

When Earth Reigned Supreme

A Clash of Aliens

Battlelines

The Copernicus Deception

Scorched Earth

Alien Games

The Cain Legacy

The Andromeda Mission

Last Species Standing

Invasion Force

Force of Gravity

Mission Critical

The Lost Universe

The Immortal War

Destroyer of Worlds

Phantoms

Terminus Rising

The Last Aris

The Human Chronicles Box Set Series

Box Set #1 – Books 1-5 in the series

Box Set #2 – Books 6-10 in the series

Box Set #3 – Books 11-15 in the series

Box Set #4 – Books 16-20 in the series

Box Set #5—Books 21-25 in the series

Box Set #6 — Books 26-29 in the series

REV Warriors Series

Rev

REV: Renegades

REV: Rebirth

REV: Revolution

REV: Retribution

REV Warriors Part 2

REV: Revelations

REV: Resolve

REV: Requiem

REV Warriors Series Part 1 Box Set - The COMPLETE Series (5 books)

Jason King – Agent to the Stars Series

The Enclaves of Sylox

Treasure of the Galactic Lights

The Drone Wars Series

Day of the Drone

In collaboration with Co-Author George Wier…

The Liberation Series

Captains Malicious

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