by T. R. Harris
90
Riyad, Sherri and Copernicus raced off for the ramp leading to the tunnels under the huge stadium, leaving Adam to face off against the huge Cadre officer. They’d passed an armory earlier, and if the Humans in the barracks were to have any chance of survival, they would need firepower.
The corridors were empty and the trio found the armory without a problem; however, they couldn’t carry enough weapons to arm even a tenth of the prisoners.
“We need one of those electric carts,” Copernicus yelled. “Everyone stock up. There has to be something around here we can use.”
They loaded up with all the flash weapons and power packs they could carry, plus a few long blades which they slipped through the weight-belts around their waists. The belts were locked on, so until they could figure a way of breaking the locks, they were on for the duration.
They ran to the stadium exit and stared off into the fading light of early afternoon. In the distance, they saw the barracks; to the left, the main office building. There were only a few aliens rushing across the dusty ground, while dozens of shuttles streaked for space on columns of white and black lifting exhaust.
There was a hum behind them, and when they turned, all their prayers were answered. Or they would have been if the occupants of the six-seat electric cart weren’t firing at them with flash weapons.
The team split apart, with Sherri diving to her left while Riyad and Coop jumped to the right. They took cover along the tall exterior wall. Sherri reached around the wall and fired into the dimly-lit corridor. Return bolts slashed against the wall or zipped past into the outer staging area.
Riyad and Coop joined the firefight, although none could see what they were firing at. After a moment they stopped shooting and listened. The hum of the electric motor could still be heard, but it was a light, steady sound. The cart was active, yet stationary.
Coop dashed into the tunnel, disappearing into the thick darkness a moment later. Sherri and Riyad waited.
A flash blinded the pair momentarily, followed by the hum of the cart growing louder.
“Don’t shoot—it’s me,” Copernicus shouted. He pulled up in the cart, the front two seats soaked with blood. “Get in; we have to go back to the armory.”
Riyad and Sherri climbed into the seat behind Coop, not anxious to sit in pools of fresh alien blood—even though their once-white uniforms were covered in the stuff. Coop turned the cart around and headed back down the tunnel.
He was leaning forward, looking for something, when he scrapped the side of tunnel with the cart.
“Watch where you’re going, dumbass!” Sherri yelled.
“I would if I could!” Coop shouted back. “Where the hell are the lights on this thing?”
He was right. With all the lights off in the complex—and the Qidos sun about to set—it was almost pitch black in the underground tunnels. Suddenly, a single ray of powerful light shot out from the front of the cart.
“Way to go, Coop, my hero!”
“So now I’m your hero again, and not your dumbass?”
“I didn’t say that. You can be both.”
They arrived back at the armory and Coop angled the cart so the light lit the interior. A minute later they had the back seats filled with flash weapons and power packs. There were two hundred Human prisoners, and even taking everything in the armory, it wouldn’t be enough to supply them all. But it was a start.
Five minutes later they pulled up to the first of the barracks. The place was dark. Riyad and Copernicus burst through the doors—and were tackled by a dozen crazed Humans who pressed them to the hard floor with the mattresses and began kicking and punching them with savage fury.
“Stop it!” Sherri yelled from the doorway. “It’s us.”
The mugging quickly subsided. “What the hell?” Riyad said.
“We thought you were Nuoreans,” said one the prisoners. “When all the shuttles started taking off and the lights went out, we thought it was now or never to make a break.”
“You’re right about that,” Copernicus said. “We have weapons outside to help you. There’s a Nuorean force are on their way to kill you. Arm up; we need to warn the others.”
The prisoners poured from the barracks, rushing to the cart and grabbing every weapon they could. Sherri hoped in the driver’s seat and sped to the next barracks, and the next. She was out of weapons by then, although it wouldn’t have made a difference if she wasn’t.
The forth barracks was engulfed in fire, with screaming prisoners racing from the doorway only to be cut down by flash bolts fired from three huge armored vehicles. Someone in the lead truck spotted Sherri on her cart and opened fire. She slid out the passenger side, painting her face and upper torso in a bath of alien blood. She ducked behind the cart as it was buffeted with bolt after fiery bolt.
And then the flame-lit scene was illuminated even more with return fire, a lot of it. It wasn’t completely dark, not yet. However the rain of white-hot plasma bolts lit the place up like Times Square. The Humans were on the march, and they outnumbered the Cadre Nuoreans ten to one. The sheer volume of flashes striking the armored trucks turned the black metal red with heat, forcing the aliens out the back. Many were cut down, but some began lobbing hand grenades toward the Humans to cover their retreat.
More of the desert landscape lit up as the battle began to move away from the burning barracks building and toward the huge arena complex. Fleeing Nuoreans entered the stadium, dodging streaking flash bolts. A dozen ran into the grand arena itself, tossing bombs and firing bolt launchers until other new packs had to be snapped in. The Humans were entering the arena, as well. They still outnumbered the aliens, but not by as much.
A few lights were coming back on, providing graphic context to the horrific scene. The gaunt-faced Humans were reckless in their assault and paying a price. But they didn’t care. All they wanted was some payback for the abuse they’d suffered under the Nuoreans.
Adam looked around the field and spotted the two swords from his earlier fight with Azon—his and the alien’s. He went to Azon’s.
The retreating Cadre fighters were more focused on the mad rush of Humans coming through the entrance ramps than they were Adam. This allowed him to position himself behind them, poison sword in hand.
A Nuorean came within range and Adam laid the blade across his back. Another turned toward the scream of his companion; Adam knelt and slashed the creature’s unprotected thigh. Two more came within range and tasted the tip of his sword. That was all it would take. After that, Adam was running across the field, dodging flash bolts as he searched for non-existent cover.
The battle lasted a few moments more, until only three Nuoreans managed to make it across the open field and to the exits on the other side of the arena. The Humans were content to let them go. Now they gathered over their fallen comrades or in small groups, helping the injured to the ground to rest.
Adam’s once-white outfit was almost entirely soaked in blood—all of it his. But he was still standing and happy to see his three teammates and best friends cross the arena towards him.
Riyad looked around at the litter of dead aliens, some with their uniforms on fire from contact with the flash bolts. “How do you like your Nuorean, regular or extra crispy?” he asked.
“No preference,” Adam replied, “so long as they’re dead.”
Sherri took his injured right arm and examined the cut. “Are you all right?” The tone of her voice asked the more important question.
“Yeah, I’m fine, really.”
She didn’t seem too convinced. “I can’t believe a little rinse was all it took to clean the swords. I really thought we’d come back here and find you dead.”
“No such luck. You’re stuck with me for a little longer.”
She looked off to the main entrance ramp to the arena. “Med-kits are in the armory,” she said. Then she snorted. “I’m sure they’re only for injured Nuoreans; they wouldn’t waste them on any of us stinking a
liens.” She and Riyad rushed off to retrieve the kits.
Copernicus Smith was limping badly, his formerly white uniform now sporting a leg of white cloth, the other almost completely red. He smiled at Adam.
“You’ve done well—for an old man,” he said. Then the smile vanished from his face and he looked to the sky. “What the hell happened up there?”
Adam shook his head. “The high price of victory, that’s what.”
“A fleeting victory, Mister Cain. They’ll just keep sending in more ships.”
The blazing aurora cast a flickering, greenish glow over the arena and the faces of the victors. Adam made a quick count: twenty-two prisoners were still standing, with another six being cared for by others. They could be packed in the landing bay, corridors and staterooms of the Najmah Fayd and evacuated to Castor. After that, Adam would be free to continue with his mission.
Sherri was back, and she cleaned and dressed the deep cut on his forearm. Then she and the others rushed off to help the others.
“Kaylor, how’s the ship?”
The answer came back through his ATD. “No issues. Very few Nuoreans left in the area—at least live Nuoreans.”
“Good. We’ll be packing the ship with survivors. Should be around thirty. Clear out what space you need. Sherri’s patching up those she can and then we’ll start loading.”
“Understood. And how are you, my friend?”
The computer couldn’t translate Adam’s mental shrug. Instead it only conveyed his words. “Same as usual.”
But Adam knew that wasn’t true.
Adam replaced the bandage on his forearm when he saw Sherri making her way towards him. Her forehead was creased, her long blond hair now a tangled, soot-strained mat on her head.
“Let me take a look—”
Adam took her hand as she reached for his arm. “Relax, babe, I’m okay,” he said with a smile. “You need to concern yourself with your more critical patients.”
She looked at the trace of blood that had oozed through the gauze. Seeing that it hadn’t spread from the last time she checked, she looked back at the glum of the body-strewn battleground. There had been two hundred Human prisoners when the battle began. Now fewer than thirty remained.
“So this is what victory looks like?” she asked in a whisper.
“From my experience…it is.”
Her questioning eyes turned back to him. “What now? This was just a battle, here and in space; there’s still a war to win.”
The weak smile vanished from Adam’s lips, replaced by a fierce, stony look of determination. “I think we both know what has to be done. It’s the only way.”
A moment of quiet acceptance passed between them before Sherri nodded. “And we’ll lead the charge, of course.”
“Who else can we trust to get the job done?”
The pair looked though the shimmering green light to where Copernicus was moving between the survivors, helping them onto carts for the ride to the Najmah Fayd. Without looking at Adam, Sherri said: “You’ve always been the one, you know?” Then she laughed. “I just never knew how long you’d last.”
“Yeah, I have managed to beat the odds. But hey, you know me—I’m indestructible.”
Sherri took his face in her hands and kissed him hard on the lips. As she drew away, she smiled. “I’m beginning to believe that.”
Adam laughed. “Now, go, tend to your flock. They need you more than I do.”
The sad look returned to Sherri’s face. “I guess that’s always been our problem; you could get along fine without me.”
He didn’t have a response, so all Sherri could do was hang her head and walk away into the lingering haze. When she was gone, Adam turned his attention back to the cut on his arm, his own words echoing in his mind. He pulled back the bandage.
The wound was still there, only now it was an angry red line in his skin—fully closed—where thirty minutes ago it had been an open cut a quarter-of-an-inch deep. He replaced the bandage and he let out a long, breathy sigh. He stared off into the distance, contemplating an unknown future.
“Wouldn’t you know it,” he said aloud. “I’m turning into a damn mutant.”
Epilogue
They ended up jumping the Najmah Fayd to Silea instead of Castor; the atmosphere was more suitable for Humans and they had better medical facilities for the injured. On the planet, they also got the news about the space battle with the Nuoreans. It was bittersweet.
An estimated nine hundred enemy ships escaped the nuclear bloom, while only twenty allied ships survived. A makeshift fleet of defenders joined the survivors after that, led by General Angar of the Fringe Pirates. Although the fleet never exceeded three hundred ships in total, the Nuoreans decided not to stay and fight to the last ship. Instead, they bolted away, headed for the edge of the galaxy.
Adam knew word of the battle would make it back to Andromeda, and then the invaders would devise a new game plan. That’s what they did, what they would always do. The Milky Way had become the Nuorean’s ultimate challenge match.
They had to be stopped, and for Adam, there was only one way to do that.
Once all the passengers aboard the trans-dimensional starship had been offloaded and cared for, the small crew met on the bridge to decide their next move.
“We don’t have a choice,” Copernicus said. “They won’t stop otherwise.”
“Agreed,” said Riyad.
Four-foot-tall, bear-like Jym looked from one Human to the other, his expression one of shock. “You cannot seriously be considering this?”
“You don’t have to go, Jym,” Riyad said.
“I didn’t say I wouldn’t participate, just that the concept is beyond belief.”
“Like Coop said, we don’t have a choice,” Adam stated. “We have to destroy the mid-point generator—”
“And all the others leading to it,” Sherri added.
“They’ll just build more,” Kaylor pointed out.
“True, but it’ll take a couple hundred years, like it did the first time,” Adam countered. “In the meantime, the Milky Way will have time to prepare. We have the Najmah Fayd; we might as well take advantage of her while we can.”
“Silly name,” Jym whispered.
“What name, the Najmah Fayd?” Sherri asked.
“No…Milky Way. My people call the galaxy Zandon-Zur. That is a much more noble and majestic name for a galaxy.”
Sherri smiled and nodded. “On that we agree, sweetie.” She petted his fur-covered head. He didn’t stop her.
“So it’s agreed” Adam said. “We take the fight to the Nuoreans, all the way to Andromeda, and put an end to this war once and for all.”
Sherri let out a snort. “Yeah, this war. But then they’ll be another and another after that.”
Riyad laughed. “That’s the way it has to be, my love. There’s a small, but dedicated group of people out there who keep track of everything we do. Without more challenges to overcome, more quests to embark upon, no one would give a damn what we do.”
Adam added his laugh to Riyad’s. “That’s right, dude. We have to keep the readers happy. And if that means going all the way to the Andromeda Galaxy to kill a few aliens, that’s just what we’ll do.”
The End of The Cain Legacy
The Andromeda Mission
And now…
Book #19 in
The Human Chronicles Saga
Copyright 2017 by T.R. Harris
All rights reserved, without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanically, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Adam Cain is an
Alien with an Attitude
His adventures continue…
91
“Wake up, Luke. There’s been a disturbance in the Force.”
Adam pushed Riyad away. “Leave me alone; I’m trying to sleep.”
“Sleep later, young Skywalker. It’s time to get up and kill aliens.”
Adam opened an eye—just one. “How many?”
Riyad flashed his trademark smile. “Hordes, my friend. Tall ones, short ones and in all the colors in the rainbow.”
“You promise?”
Riyad backed away, feigning indignation. “Luke…I am your father. Would I lie to you?”
Now fully awake, Adam sat up on the bed. “Now that’s a disgusting thought.”
“You could do worse than my golden bronze skin-tone and heart-melting smile.”
Adam grinned. “I take it we have a new gravity wave?” He stood up, feeling refreshed and anxious.
“Yes…and a strong one.”
“How far?”
“The report came through a couple of minutes ago. Command estimates we’re about two hundred light-years away. And it’s a tight schedule. This one might work, if you still think this is the best way to go?”
A moment later, Adam Cain and Riyad Tarazi were headed for the bridge of the Najmah Fayd. “I’d rather try this than a couple of thousand trans-dimensional jumps to the midpoint generator,” Adam said. “If anything went wrong on the way, we’d be trapped in one-and-a-half-million light-years of open space.”
“So hitching a ride with the Nuoreans over to Andromeda is a better idea?”
“We’ve been through this before, Riyad. As soon as we pop into their galaxy, we’ll make a quick jump away from any bad guys in the area.”
