“What did you say?” said Jonas, surprised by Anki’s outspokenness.
“He saved my life. He fought against five Kemmar and killed them all to save me.”
Jonas stared at the little girl, speechless. He then looked up at Jon and said, “Is this true?”
“It is,” said Jon.
Jonas relaxed his posture. “You saved my granddaughter’s life. I am in your debt.” He bowed his head to Jon showing his gratitude and respect.
With that gesture the men who were advancing on Jon stepped back and the room went back to a more relaxed state. Breeah had forgotten how quickly a perceived slight could turn bloody among her people. She looked at her father and spoke with a more respectful tone, “He is a good man, father. He saved both our lives, more than once.”
Jonas’s eyes hadn’t left Jon’s, but thankfully his posture remained relaxed. “It appears I am doubly in your debt, Captain,” said Jonas, begrudgingly.
“Forget it,” said Jon.
Breeah looked down at Anki and put her arm around her.
Anki looked up, smiled and said, “I think Jon and Grandfather are going to like each other.”
Chapter 71
High Lord Toth surveyed his forces on his tactical display. His fleet was now fully mobilized along the edges of Otan space. The military movements hadn’t gone unnoticed and the Otan responded by mobilizing their own forces in response. Now the two fleets squared off against each other with just empty space between them.
Of course, that empty space consisted of the border between the two, as defined by treaty. It was that treaty in particular that High Lord Toth intended to break.
With his forces in position it was time to act. As a customary diplomatic gesture, he established communication with the Otan fleet commander, Admiral Gurzail. A communication display flickered on and Gurzail’s face appeared.
The Otan were hideous creatures with no hair on their bodies and only a handful of teeth in their mouths. Their heads were obscenely small for their bodies with disproportionately large eyes. Toth could barely stomach looking at the thing and wondered why a treaty was ever established with such repulsive looking lifeforms.
“This is Admiral Gurzail, commander of the Otan fleet. Why have you mobilized your forces along our border?”
“Admiral, I am High Lord Toth, of the Kemmar Empire. I am here to offer you a gift.”
“What kind of gift?” Gurzail said, cautiously.
“The gift of life. Recent developments have made it necessary for the Kemmar Empire to annex Otan space. I give you one opportunity to withdraw and save the lives of your men.”
“This is outrageous. The Kemmar and Otan have a treaty, which you will violate if you cross into Otan space.”
“You are correct, Admiral. It is out of respect for that treaty that I am giving you the opportunity to withdraw peacefully. What is your answer?”
“You want my answer?” Gurzail shouted. “Cross our border and I will bathe in your blood. That is my answer you Kemmar scum.”
Toth bared his teeth at the display. “I was hoping you would say that.” Toth turned off the display. He opened a communication with his fleet officers, “This is High Lord Toth. Begin operations.”
He watched on his tactical display as his fleet lurched forward, crossing the border into Otan space. In response, the Otan fleet moved to engage the invaders.
Each side’s carriers spit out hundreds of fighters which raced forward to attack each other. The darkness was lit up with energy bolts and explosions as innumerable celestial dog fights took place.
The squadrons met each other in a no man’s land where they were out of the range of the other side’s heavy guns. Here, the first important victory in this battle would be decided.
The fighters streaked back and forth across the sky. Toth watched with interest as the Kemmar pilots displayed their fighting prowess. The Kemmar were a warrior race. They lived for battle. Admiral Gurzail was foolish not to take his offer.
The Otan were simply outclassed. As the battle progressed, it became clear that the Kemmar possessed the more advanced fighters. The Kemmar kills added up and the Otan fighters slowly lost ground.
With the Kemmar fighters dominating the engagement, Toth ordered a squadron of destroyers to move in. The Otan countered with their own squadron, blocking the Kemmar advance.
The two destroyer groups engaged each other with energy weapons and missiles. While they weren’t as fast and agile as the fighters, they still had some maneuverability, but moved together in tight battle formations.
Toth sent in the remaining destroyer squadrons, trying to overwhelm the Otan. Gurzail impressed him by keeping up and countering his moves with his own squadrons.
A broad line of battle took shape between to two groups of destroyers. Whenever one side tried to gain an advantage, the other countered the move. The back and forth between the two continued, while the Kemmar fighters easily outclassed and destroyed the Otan fighters.
A squadron of Kemmar heavy cruisers entered the fray to support the destroyers. They tried to outflank the Otan squadrons, but the Otan Admiral was still up to the task and moved a squadron of his own cruisers to intercept.
The Admiral’s abilities continued to impress Toth. He fought defensively, which compensated somewhat for the weaker nature of his force, but it would not be enough. The Kemmar fleet was superior in ability, and in numbers. The outcome of the battle was never in doubt.
As the battle wore on the Kemmar fighters really showed their superiority, enjoying a two to one advantage against the Otan fighters. That advantage allowed some of the fighters to support the larger cruisers and destroyers.
To even things out the Otan deployed their battleships. Toth bared his teeth and ordered his own battleships to engage. The battle would now be fought in earnest as the hulking warships squared off against each other and traded blows. The battleships on each side were evenly matched and both sides took damage as the giant vessels pounded each other.
The earlier fighter battle proved to be the deciding factor, as Toth had expected. The Otan fighters had been virtually wiped out freeing up all the Kemmar fighters to assist the heavier Kemmar squadrons.
One by one the Otan destroyers and cruisers blew apart. With each lost ship the Kemmar advantage grew greater and the Otan became increasingly outnumbered.
As the battle wore on destroyers and heavy cruisers were able to offer their assistance against the Otan battleships. With the Otan battleships weakening under the weight of the Kemmar attack, the Kemmar fighters hastened their demise with suicide attacks.
Each fighter that got through the Otan defenses punched a hole in their target’s hull. The hull breaches compounded, crippling the Otan battleships until each ship fell off the battlefield in blinding explosions.
With the battle all but over Toth opened a communication with the Grand Sovereign.
“It is done, Eminence. The Otan fleet has been defeated.”
“Excellent, High Lord Toth. You will take your force to the capitol and remove the Otan rulers. You will then secure Otan space,” Grand Sovereign Tsogt said.
“Yes, Eminence.”
“While you are doing so, you will dispatch scout ships to their far border and amass as much intelligence as you can on their neighbors. These humans. I want to know everything about them, their worlds, and their defenses.”
“Understood, Eminence. May I ask the goal of this information?”
“Invasion.”
Book 3 - Ronin
Chapter 1
Standing on the Chaanisar Bridge, Jon felt as though a colony of fire ants scurried across his limbs. Several weeks had passed since their rescue from DLC station, yet he still couldn’t get used to the fact that he was on a Chaanisar ship. After a lifetime fighting against them he didn’t think he ever would.
Everywhere he turned he saw the Juttari, the aliens he was born and bred to kill. The conquerors and oppressors of the human race. Everywhere
he looked he saw their script. Every inch of the ship was defaced with their symbols. The ship’s very existence was an affront to all notions of humanity.
Worse still was its crew. The ultimate abomination. The Chaanisar. Once human, they were stolen from their families as children, violated with alien technology, robbed of all free will, and forced to serve their alien masters.
Turned against their own kind, they committed the most heinous atrocities in human history. Years ago he had taken a vow to kill any Chaanisar that crossed his path. Yet here he stood, on a Chaanisar bridge. No matter how hard he tried to justify it, one dreadful word confronted him again and again.
Collaborator.
His rational mind continuously reminded him that these Chaanisar had revolted and slain their Juttari masters. These Chaanisar had fought for and rescued his Marines. They rescued Breeah, her daughter Anki, and the rest of the surviving Reivers. They even continued to search for and rescue the remaining members of his crew.
His best friend and security chief, Kevin St. Clair, believed in them. He fought side by side with them. He vouched for their sincerity. To Kevin, they were valiantly trying to recapture their humanity. It was a noble cause, worthy of support. At least that was Kevin’s opinion.
Jon only saw enemy. Atrocity. Chaanisar.
“We will be jumping to our new search coordinates in two minutes,” said Colonel Bast, commander of the Chaanisar ship.
Jon simply nodded, his skin still twitching, invisible swarms of insects crawling across every inch. A wary truce existed between the Colonel and Jon. Colonel Bast tried hard to win Jon’s respect, and under other circumstances Jon would have gladly given it. The man was a born commander, better than most he’d encountered. But every time Jon looked at his uniform he was reminded that Bast was Chaanisar. No matter how hard he tried, that reminder always triggered an old, deeply rooted fury.
“Did I miss anything, Captain?” said Kevin St. Clair as he strode onto the bridge, his height and hulking frame unmistakable. Jon had served with Kevin on countless missions, and he was one of the best operators he knew. He couldn’t think of any other man he would rather go into battle with.
“We’re about to jump to the next search vector,” said Jon, some of the edge lifting now that his friend had arrived.
“Good. Let’s hope our lucky streak keeps going.” Kevin, crossed his powerful arms in front of his chest.
With each search they had recovered more members of the Hermes crew. Their numbers had swelled and Jon felt good about their prospects. They had been very lucky, and they both knew it. What they needed was a ship of their own. One step at a time, Jon reminded himself. They still had people to find.
The lights on the bridge dimmed, signaling they were about to jump. “Here we go,” said Jon, feeling a pang of anxiety in his belly. He dreaded the thought of finding dead crewmembers. He was responsible for the fate of every single one of them. His decisions scattered them across this region of space, a thousand light years away from home. The guilt was his alone.
The stars on the ship’s viewscreen were replaced by a large planet as the ship completed its jump. It looked similar to Earth, with oceans and continents covering its surface. Jon ground his teeth together as he waited for the scan results. Beside him Kevin exhaled sharply, showing his own impatience.
“Picking up Space Force beacon,” said the Chaanisar officer. “Signal is coming from the planet’s surface.”
“Hell yeah,” said Kevin, sharing the relief Jon felt. “Lady Luck is still on our side.”
“Let’s go suit up,” said Jon, smiling. “We’ve got people waiting for us down there.” Jon and Kevin turned and headed for the exit. Ever since he came on board he had personally led every ground based rescue mission. Bast had initially resisted. He believed that the away missions should be a mix of Space Force and Chaanisar. He wanted the crews to learn how to work together. But Jon insisted. They were his people and his responsibility. In the end Bast relented and the rescue missions became a Space Force operation.
“Contact,” announced the Chaanisar tactical officer, stopping Jon and Kevin in their tracks. “Picking up Kemmar warship orbiting the planet.”
“Damn it,” said Jon, spinning around. “They’re going after the escape pod. We’ve got to get down there.”
“Agreed,” said Bast. “Prepare your team for insertion and leave the warship to me.”
As Jon headed for the exit he was once again impressed with Colonel Bast. If only he wasn’t Chaanisar, he thought as he left.
Chapter 2
Jon sat on the steps of his back porch, watching his mother tend to her small vegetable garden. It wasn’t much, but it provided fresh produce for the family, supplementing the meat Jon and his father brought home from their hunts. Up here in the mountains that usually meant elk, deer, and the odd moose. It also meant being away for days at a time, something Jon never felt comfortable with. While he knew his mother was a capable woman, he hated leaving her by herself. Whether they were hunting for food, or hunting the enemy, it still meant leaving their home vulnerable.
It wasn’t that his mother couldn’t fight. She was as fierce as any man. She had taught Jon much of what he knew, especially what she called the “intimate arts”. This was how she referred to fighting with a blade. A gun, no matter what type, was impersonal. It killed from a distance. Whereas with a blade you were close enough to smell the target’s last meal on his breath. She could protect herself. Of that there was no doubt. Still, if the enemy came in numbers while they were gone….
All these years, the resistance remained one step ahead. The vast mountain forests helped them stay hidden. They regularly changed locations, never staying in one place too long. Most important were their mobile bio suppressors. The bio suppressors established a perimeter around their location, masking their biological signatures from any satellites or drones searching the area. If a drone were to fly by all its sensors would see was forest. They were careful, and they were still alive.
“Are you just going to sit there, or are you going to pitch in and give your poor old mother a hand?” she said, using her forearm to wipe her brow.
“You’re hardly old, mom,” said Jon, getting up from his perch. He reached into the air and effortlessly caught the garden hoe she threw at him.
“Compared to you I’m old. If anyone should be relaxing it should be me. Now bring that thing over here and make yourself useful.” She pointed to a patch of soil that needed breaking up.
Jon smiled and quietly followed his mother’s instructions. He seized the hoe with both hands, swung it over his head and down towards the ground, digging the long slender blade into the dirt and pulling up the soil underneath. He repeated the movement as his mother watched. The exertion felt good and relieved some of the tension that had been building in his shoulders.
“Are you ready?” she asked, scrutinizing him.
The question made him swing harder as anger fueled his labor. He knew she was asking about the upcoming raid he was going on. “I’m ready.”
“Good. It’s a bold plan, but we need to be bold if we can ever hope to defeat the Juttari.”
“The Governor won’t know what hit him,” said Jon, swinging so hard he wondered if the wooden shaft would break.
“Never mind all that,” she chastised. “Arrogance will get you killed. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, mom. I understand,” Jon said, losing some of his intensity.
His mother studied him carefully, then nodded. “I hate that you have to go on raids at your age, but these are the times we live in. This is the cost of freedom.”
“I know mom.”
“If you’re prepared and careful you have a better chance of coming home alive.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You mean you’ll be careful.”
“I’ll be careful.” He could see how worried she was, despite her hardened exterior. The last thing he wanted to do was add to her stress by being
argumentative, even though he wished she trusted him more. He had been on several raids already, and always came back uninjured, yet before each raid she acted like it was his first time out.
He swung the hoe again with all his strength, letting go of his frustration as it impacted with the ground. He may be only fourteen years old, but he had already killed. Both his father and grandfather said he was a man, no less than any other man in their cell. His mother, however, still looked at him like a boy.
It was irritating and comforting at the same time. The boy inside him was quickly slipping away, yet part of him still wanted to hold on. For all his bravado, deep down inside he still wanted fun and games. The man in him took hold and blocked that train of thought, scoffing at his weakness. He brought the hoe down again with all his might, crushing the resistance of the hardened earth.
“I wish I could come with you,” she said.
“I wish you could too, mom.”
She dropped her shoulders and sighed. “I’ll only slow you down. This damn injury makes me a liability.”
“You can still fight as well as anyone else.”
She smiled at the compliment. “Unfortunately I can’t run as well as anyone else.” There was a rare hint of sadness in her voice. He knew it weighed heavily on her that she couldn’t participate in the raids anymore. That she couldn’t protect him.
“Don’t worry, mom. If all goes well we’ll be bringing you back a present.”
“Yes, a big fat traitorous present. I’ve sharpened a special welcoming gift just for him. I hope he likes it.”
Chapter 3
Jon stepped into his combat suit. As it powered on it instantly sensed his body. The hard, flexible material wrapped around him and locked into place, covering his entire body. He lifted his arm, the movement creating a low whining sound, and squeezed his metal clad hand into a fist. He immediately felt the increased strength the suit gave him. The Chaanisar combat suits were designed to take advantage of the super human Chaanisar abilities. While this didn’t make a difference for the rest of his team, it meant that he could augment the superior strength and speed the symbiont had empowered him with to achieve astounding results. When the helmet stretched over his head and face his HUD lit up. It displayed tactical and diagnostic information about the condition of his suit, his vitals, and those of his team.
The Pike Chronicles - Books 1 - 10 Page 48
