by John Walker
Behemoth
Rise Of Mankind Book 1
John Walker
Copyright © 2016 John Walker
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
DISCLAIMER
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This story contains explicit language and violence.
Blurb
Three years ago, Earth was attacked by an invading force so devastating, only one ship in the fleet survived. Their hard won victory came from the aid of an alliance of aliens long at war with an aggressive force. With the aid of advanced technology, humanity retrofitted their surviving vessel. The Behemoth became a shield against any future incursions.
Now a strange ship has arrived, heading straight toward Earth. As it is not answering hails, the Behemoth heads out to intercept. The operation is interrupted by other visitors from beyond the solar system. Outnumbered the Behemoth must fend off the invaders once again but this time, the stakes are much higher.
Table of Contents
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
Epilogue
Chapter 1
Something pulsed. A quick interruption in the endless hum collected by long range scanners directed at the edge of the solar system. Lieutenant Oliver Darnell caught it immediately and brought up a list of operations in the area. Increased mining work might account for a false positive on the early warning system.
But the schedule showed no civilian activity in that particular region. Olly frowned and redirected the necessary resources to gather more data. The hair on the back of his neck bristled as he thought of the last time such an anomaly occurred. Three years ago, Earth lacked the technology to proactively detect an incursion so far out. Signs of the attack were studied after the fact and catalogued for future reference.
Olly busied himself preparing analytical applications, programs designed to capture as much data as possible on the second ping. He adjusted his headphones for better noise cancellation, cutting out his fellow crew members as they went about their tasks. Boosting the gain, he stared at the screen intently, willing it to hurry up.
Enhanced long range equipment combined with high speed satellite relays made his job a lot easier. When he graduated from the academy, the system hadn’t been fully deployed. Data mining took hours back then but with a little help from the Alliance and some human creativity, Olly could monitor the Solar System in close to real time.
The second pulse made Olly’s heart race. He hoped it might be a glitch in the sensor arrays but no. Something was definitely out there moving fast. His analytics went into action, plotting speed and course, method of propulsion all while trying to capture the shape of the object.
These initial tests would rule out whether Olly found something natural like a comet or space debris and tell him whether it came from one of the friendly cultures of the Alliance or…the other guys.
A tap on his shoulder made Olly jump and he turned to see Lieutenant Commander Stephanie Redding smirking at him. She was a fit woman in her early forties, her dusty blond hair thick on the top and cropped short at the bottom. Her service record spoke of a brilliant pilot and her extensive experience also made her a logical third in command.
Olly pulled the headphones away from his ears and sat up straight. “I’m sorry, Ma’am.”
“What’s got you so intent?” Redding tilted her head to see his screen. “What’re you tracking there?”
“I’m not entirely sure yet.” He let out a breath and turned back to the data. “I hope to have a report ready soon. Whatever it is seems to have appeared near Pluto.”
“Conventional travel?” Redding asked. Olly anticipated the question but he didn’t have a good answer.
“Our early warning doesn’t go beyond our solar system so it’s possible the thing has been trundling along at sub-light.”
“Opinion?”
Olly shrugged. “Do you want pessimism?”
“I’ll take realistic.”
“Okay, let’s take a stab at this.” Olly put his readings on the main screen, a bunch of charts and constantly flickering numbers off to the right. “What we’re looking at here is trajectory and velocity. Right now, it’s moving in a consistent direction. This column here shows how it’s defying gravitational pulls of larger items it passes.”
“Like a space craft.”
Olly nodded. “Exactly. I’m analyzing its propulsion now…” He tapped away at the keyboard, frowning at what he discovered. “I see thrust and fluctuating power output consistent with the amount of energy necessary to defy those solar bodies but something is preventing me from penetrating the hull.”
“Could it be Alliance?” Redding squinted at the screen. “A message?”
Olly let out a long breath. “Sure. Or…”
“I know what you’re going to say, Lieutenant.” Redding hummed. “You said it’s moving in a consistent direction. Give me the course heading.”
“Here, Ma’am,” Olly replied. “It’s heading for Earth.”
Redding stood up straighter and moved back to her station. “Ensign,” she directed her comment to the communications officer, Agatha White, one of the newest additions to the bridge crew. She’d only just graduated from the academy and through stunning marks, got a post on the Behemoth. Olly liked her but at only twenty years old, the girl proved a little naive for his taste. “Patch me through to Commander Everly.”
“Aye, Ma’am.” Agatha turned to her console and worked the controls.
Redding continued, “keep compiling information, Olly. Whatever that thing is, I kind of doubt anyone invited it. The captain will want a serious briefing. Make sure you have everything he needs.”
“Aye, Ma’am.” Olly put his headphones back on and hunkered down. All the times he complained about the boredom of third watch came back to haunt him. If this thing heralded another attack, would the Behemoth be able to hold them back? And what if they’d found something else even more terrifying than the bastards who attacked them before?
He shook his head and forced himself to focus. Idle thinking would do no one any good. Gathering facts, compiling data and providing these reports would go much further than speculation or fear. Humanity had lived in the shadow of terror for too long. They’d bounced back from devastation once already. Oliver wanted to believe they never would have to again.
But the Behemoth had not been truly tested yet, not against a real foe. Conventional weapons no longer proved a match for the vessel, but what of the advanced armaments of their true enemy? Even the Alliance officer couldn’t say for sure and she came with a lot of experience.
Perhaps this object would be the maiden voyage the Behemoth needed to prove not only to her crew but the people of Sol as well that they had a r
eal deterrent against interstellar marauders. All the cultures of the world got behind the rebuilding of the Behemoth and many hopes were pinned on her success.
I sure hope she’s up to the challenge, Olly thought as a third wave of information filled his screen. The best equipment and resources money can buy went into this beast. Us humans are probably the weakest link. Here’s to hoping we’re up to the pressure…and whatever this thing represents. Okay, Darnell. Parse this data and get to work. The time for wonder is over.
***
Captain Gray Atwell smirked at the intent expression of Clea An’Tufal as she puzzled over the chessboard, carefully contemplating every piece. He’d learned a lot about the alien in three years of working with her. The liquid silver irises and black-purple hair provided the outward signs of how she differed from humans, but those were merely superficial. To understand the differences of a Kielan, one had to delve into their culture.
Gray found it easiest to compare them to the Japanese with their stringent discipline and impressive work ethic. Kielans seemed to take it to an extreme. Clea worked harder than any three human technicians, tirelessly moving from one shift to the next as one part advisor, one part worker. She learned swiftly and adapted to situations exceedingly well.
Best of all, during grueling hours of work, she maintained a good sense of humor. He’d never seen her succumb to misery. Yes, she sacrificed some dizzying emotional highs by not experiencing the lows but Gray considered it a pretty fair trade. She’d explained once that the concept of depression was foreign to them. They’d defeated the state of mind centuries ago.
Kielans boasted many traits which made them enviable but their culture wasn’t perfect. They suffered under the weight of familial expectation and most children followed in the footsteps of their parents. This meant they always had someone to live up to, someone who’s successes and contributions to society may have been very high.
Clea said she volunteered to be the liaison for Earth because such work tended to be difficult to compare to others. She had a better chance of being judged on her own merits than those of the people who came before her. Gray understood. He chose to join the military rather than follow in his father’s footsteps into the world of application programming.
As a result, no one would compare him to his father in anything but morality and personal accountability.
The fact an alien race which evolved thousands of light years from Earth fostered the same desire to be measured individually fascinated Gray. Clea started out as someone he wanted to understand and eventually became a friend. Despite their differences, and often because of them, they complimented each other well in the preparations of the Behemoth as a bleeding edge military vessel.
“You know, you’re never going to win if you just stare at them,” Gray teased and took a sip of brandy. “I’m pretty sure you already know how you’re going to beat me anyway.”
“I’ve played through this game six times, Gray,” Clea replied evenly. “Right now, there are one hundred ninety-seven thousand seven-hundred forty-two possible games we could experience.”
“Please tell me you’re not planning on going through them all in your head right now,” Gray said. “And where did you pull that number out of? Some kind of computational craziness?”
“No.” Clea glanced up at him, smirking. “I read it on the extranet the other day. Apparently, there are almost infinite possibilities when it comes to chess. The article stated a typical session takes about forty moves with an average of thirty choices per move. Shocking for a seemingly simple pass time with only thirty-two pieces, wouldn’t you say?”
“Those are some pretty insane statistics.” Gray scratched at the white hair of his right temple. Five short years ago, his hair was nearly black but the attack and then years of feverishly administering the rebuilding of the Behemoth took a toll on him. He remained fit but his hair betrayed his age and at nearly fifty, he sometimes felt it.
His blue eyes carried wisdom and all the difficult decisions he made over the past twenty-five years as a military officer. He remained lean, his powerful frame still muscular and fit. Aches and pains hadn’t really set in but a few exercise sessions reminded him he was no longer twenty-five years old.
Even modern medical technology, which kept people going for vastly longer than a hundred years before, couldn’t take away the weight of the spirit. Gray saw a great deal during his military career and he carried those experiences everywhere he went.
“Don’t worry, Captain,” Clea said, moving her pawn two paces. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got a good chance at winning this time.”
“Why?” Gray leaned forward and took her pawn with his. “Am I due?”
“In a word, yes.” Clea shrugged. “Either that or you’re getting what you deserve for all those times you trounced me while I was still learning.”
“As we both know, sometimes the best way to learn is to lose.” Gray glanced out the porthole at the stars beyond and let out a deep breath. “The key is to ensure your losses don’t carry costs too high to make the knowledge worth it.”
Clea clicked her tongue, a behavior she learned from the Chief Engineer Higgins. “You’re drifting back to the attack, Gray.”
Gray held up his hands. “I didn’t say anything at all! You brought it up.”
“Really.” Clea raised her brows. “Humans can be very coy when they want to be. How do you do it? Pretend as if you’re not thinking of something when it’s quite obvious you are?”
“Self-deception?” Gray grinned. “We’re the masters at that.”
“Oh yes, I’m quite aware.” Clea didn’t look at the board as she moved another piece. “Check.”
Gray squinted at the game. Just as he reached to make his move, the com buzzed. Saved by the bell, he mused to himself, I hope. He moved over to his desk and engaged the connection. “Captain Atwell here.”
“Gray, it’s Adam.” Commander Adam Everly was his first officer and oldest friend. They’d attended the academy together though graduated a year apart. Since then, they served at many of the same posts. “Redding contacted me from the bridge. They picked something up on long range scans. They want us to see the data right away.”
Gray’s heart leaped in his chest. Could this be the precursor to another attack? Three years ago, Earth scientists retrospectively examined data collected from the borders of their solar system. Their findings led to the construction of the satellite array positioned near every planet and solar body with a predictable gravitational rotation.
Are they back?
Gray turned to Clea who stared back at him with a grave expression. They both knew it was possible. They may well be on the verge of another skirmish, one without the benefit of Alliance intervention. But he knew enough not to jump to conclusions. He needed to shake off his worry. The crew would pick up on it immediately. Calm confidence settled over him, the exact sensation he needed his people to see in the face of the unknown.
“Thanks Adam,” Gray replied. “Clea and I will meet you in the briefing room. Have Olly bring his findings.”
“Sure thing. See you there.” The connection cleared.
“I guess our game’s on pause.” Gray pulled on his uniform jacket, black with gold piping on the shoulders and seams. He fastened the silver buttons up the front and straightened his collar. “Shall we?”
“Indeed.” Clea donned her own coat, a mirror of the captain’s with fewer bars on the shoulder. As a liaison, she enjoyed the rank of Lieutenant Commander but tended to exert her authority only when absolutely necessary. “It may not be what you think.”
“Then again,” Gray headed into the hall before continuing, “it very well might be. Do you know any Latin?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Si vis pacem, para bellum,” Gray said. “It’s something my military history professor spouted off like a prayer. I always thought he was just being pretentious but when the attack came, his words came back to haunt me and I agre
e with them more than ever before. If we’d followed them then, we might’ve stood more of a chance.”
“So what does it mean?”
“If you want peace, prepare for war,” Gray replied. He looked around as they walked, admiring the solid design all around him. Thick metal coated the walls, screens here and there displayed readings from various departments throughout the vessel. He felt it hum beneath his feet like a sailing ship of old succumbing to the waves. “I think the Behemoth fits the saying, don’t you?”
“If anything could embody the concept of preparing for war, this machine would be it,” Clea agreed. “My human history is nothing compared to yours but there is one thing I picked up in my reading.”
“Oh?” Gray summoned the elevator. “Do tell.”
“Humans have many talents. You are all infinitely creative and cunning, capable of amazing feats when your backs are pressed to the wall. And in those days when your enemies gather around you and threaten what you hold dear, you fight with a ferocity my kind has only seen in the very threat we all face now.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Clea. Every living thing wants to live. Self-preservation compels us all.”
“Not to the same extent as humanity exhibits.” They boarded the elevator. “At least, that’s if your history books are to be believed and are not merely fiction. After all, the battle of Thermopylae suggests some pretty outlandish behavior. How much of that do you feel is mere boasting?”
“I don’t know but I will tell you this. The Greeks of that era knew what was at stake when the Persians came to their doorstep. The total annihilation of their way of life. If those three hundred Spartans would not have given the rest of Greece time to rally, Western thinking may never have come to be. I can relate to the generals of that time right now…facing an overwhelming foe with so few but like them, we have an advantage.”
“Which is?”
