Last Species Standing: The Human Chronicles Saga #20

by T. R. Harris

  Aj snapped out of his reverie and beamed. “Thank you! Thank you very much. We’re an hour out. Thank you again!”

  The Nuorean frowned, moments before he cut the connection.

  Riyad moved up next to the young officer. “You did great Mister Chaudhory. Prepare for immediate dust-off upon landing.”

  “Aye, sir.” The Marine officer straightened up and nodded. Battling aliens was what he was trained for. He was more comfortable with an M-101 assault rifle in his hands than trying to deceive some gray thing over a comm link. He rushed from the room. He had six men with him who had shuttled over from the Rutledge. The other fourteen commandos of the combined Marine and Navy force were still on the jumpship, also preparing for the landing assault. Chaudhory and his men would be those pretending to have Cain’s team in shackles.

  Sherri was left alone on the bridge with Riyad. Everyone else was getting ready.

  “They’ll have to be pretty gullible to believe this.”

  “They just gave us permission to land.”

  “Or permission to steer right into a hail of flash cannon bolts.”

  Riyad tried to assure her with one of his trademark smiles. It didn’t work, probably because he was having trouble believing it, too. “The Nuoreans love to play games, even when they know it’s all bullshit. They think they can out maneuver their opponent by letting them believe they’re in control. We already know we’re not in control, so that puts us…in control.”

  Sherri frowned, and then laughed. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense…to you.”

  “It sounded better in my head.”

  “Most things do, sweetie. For my part, I’m ready for some action. It’s been far too long since I killed an alien that I’ve almost forgotten how to do it.”

  “It’s like riding a bike. A very deadly and bloody bike.”

  Sherri smiled. “You sure know how to sweet-talk a lady.” She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. It’s what ex-spouses did on occasion.

  As the Tobias drew closer, Arieel reached out through the ghost program and contacted Adam. He was a little skeptical of the plan, but agreed there was no other way for the two ships to approach the planet without a fleet of Nuorean attack vessels being sent out to greet them. It was one thing being tough-as-nails Humans, capable of defeating nearly any alien in the galaxy. It was another having your spaceship zipped open to the cold death of space. Not much you can do at that point…but die.

  Adam had to believe the Nuoreans suspected a set-up, and would be ready to act the moment anything went screwy with the landing or at the first signs of hostility; therefore, he would have to create a distraction.

  It’s safe to say Adam Cain was ready for some action. Even under normal circumstances he would feel the same. But now he had a whole menu of mutant superpowers to call upon, he was anxious to start bashing some heads.

  There were eight Nuorean ships in orbit, and they watched as the jumpship and the Tobias slipped into the atmosphere. The smaller luxury space yacht made the smoothest landing any of the occupants had ever experienced. That was expected of a ship that cost nearly a billion dollar-credits to build. Adam often wondered what the original owner would think about the name change he’d made, but since the ship had been transferred to Adam’s ownership, he felt he had the right. Besides, he preferred A.C. Tobias over Bezos. It just had a better ring to it and more meaning to Adam.

  The ships would be on the surface in two minutes. Adam moved toward the door of his room-slash-cell and tripped the locking mechanism. It was time to go to work.

  However, this time when he looked out in the hallway, he was greeted by the smiling face of the Cadre three-striper Crans, along with six armed sentries.

  “Are you planning on leaving us?” asked the alien.

  Adam smiled back. “Actually, I thought I go on a crazed killing spree, starting with the seven of you.”

  “You should know, Adam Cain, we are quite prepared for your rumored—”

  Adam’s fist came at the alien faster than his vision could register. There was nothing held back, and the force of the hit was enough to smash the three-striper’s head into an unrecognizable pulp. But Adam wasn’t through with him. He took hold of the body and threw it down the hallway, bowling over three of the guards, even as he tore into the other three with a savage whirlwind of fists, elbows and kicks. By the time he moved onto the three on the floor, he had armed himself with one of the alien flash weapons and proceeded to fill the corridor with a blinding series of flash bolts. He scooped up three other flash rifles and slung them over his shoulder.

  If there truly were only one hundred of the Third Cadre on the planet, that number was now down to ninety-three.

  Adam felt the rumbling of the Tobias and the jumpship landing. He moved down the hallway toward the exit….

  19

  Almost before the smoke cleared, the aft cargo bay doors opened and Lt. Chaudhory led the five prisoners down the ramp of the Tobias, guarded by his six troops and accompanied by an unrestrained Arieel Bol.

  A squad of Nuoreans waited for them, all armed to the teeth and weary of the prisoners.

  The members of Adam’s team were shackled, and the aliens rushed up and took custody of them and checking their binds. Satisfied, they let the entourage pass and make its way toward the line of metal buildings a hundred yards away.

  The Biddle took a few seconds longer to land and when the smoke cleared, a squad of Nuoreans rushed out to the aft cargo door. They had their flash weapons at the ready when the door began to slowly drop down to form a ramp.

  But there were no Humans in the open bay.

  A UFV JU-12—the jumpship—is a vessel two hundred feet long with two stubby wings to assist with atmosphere landings. And unknown to the Nuoreans standing at the rear of the ship, it also had an emergency escape hatch under the bridge where ten commandos had just exited, armed with M-101’s and grenade launchers. They split into squads of five and made their way along the fuselage toward the aft end.

  The Humans and Nuoreans spotted each other at the same time; however, the Humans were ready to initiate the battle. They opened up, cutting down the six Nuoreans before the aliens could get off a single flash bolt.

  The squads then joined up again and made a mad dash in the light gravity for the closest building. A hot rush of grey smoke obscured their run, as the Biddle lifted off and made for space. It was met by the Tobias, with both ships tasked with keeping the Nuoreans in orbit occupied and prevented from helping their Nuorean comrades on the surface.

  At the first sound of battle, Arieel released the shackle controls on the team. Freed from the restraints, Sherri, Riyad and Copernicus tackled their alien escorts, smashing heads and confiscating weapons. Lt. Chaudhory and his six men sprinted for the row of buildings, producing small handguns from under their civilian clothing. Flash bolts danced around them, and one of the Humans went down from a level one bolt to the head.

  The main force of Nuoreans were located at the ends of the ‘S-shaped’ row of seven buildings, which were connected to each other by thirty-foot long half-round tubes, like Quonset huts. The commandos from the Biddle were three building away and hiding in the space between the buildings, while Riyad and his team was in the space between the third and fourth building as counting from the south.

  Just then, a brilliant barrage of deadly level-one flash bolts began to slam against the buildings and into five more of the Humans.

  “It’s coming from the desert, across the landing field!” shouted one of Choudhury’s men. Riyad looked across the dusty plane and saw a row of Nuoreans appear from a dry wash about three hundred yards away. There were easily fifty of them in the line.

  “Where the hell did they come from?” Sherri asked. “Not counting the Cadre in orbit, there should have only been about sixty left on the surface. Counting the other groups shooting at us, that’s over a hundred.”

  Arieel had picked up a flash rifle from one of the fallen Nuoreans and was tr
ying to return fire. She was game, but not a very good shot. She used her Gift to contact Adam.

  Where are you?

  I’m in the second building, to the north. There’s a line of Nuoreans around the first building firing at you. I’ll see if I can take them out.

  There are more to the west, coming out of the desert. About fifty of them.

  Fifty? Adam thought of the Nuorean leader Qintis. He was probably still on the surface and would have come with support troops of his own. They were also expecting the attack.

  Nothing I can do about them now. Let me clear your position to the north.

  Adam moved back into the building where he’d been held captive and moved its length to the tunnel connecting it with the first building. He didn’t see any Nuoreans, either in his building or the tunnel. They could all be outside.

  He entered the first building in a sprint, his flash rifle leveled, ready for anything he saw. What he wasn’t ready for was the explosion.

  The entire building went up in flames, shattering the thin walls and turning the entire structure into a smoldering heap of heat and smoke. Adam was thrown into the air from the concussion, along with hundreds of pieces of jagged metal. He remained conscious, although he didn’t want to. His vision was nothing but smoke and fire. He felt his clothing on fire and smelled the burning of his hair and skin. He landed on the rubble, followed by several heavy sheets of scorching hot metal.

  It had to be his mutant brain cells keeping him alive. He had been in the center of the building when it exploded, just as the Nuoreans planned. Now, as he lay nearly crushed by the debris, he began an assessment of his injuries. Nothing appeared to be broken, probably the result of his enhanced strength and durability. But his hair and skin were another matter. He could sense severe burns—second and third degree—over most of his body. Yet surprisingly, he didn’t feel any pain, just a strange tingling sensation.

  He lifted the metal panels from atop him and let them slide to his side. There was smoke everywhere, yet he was able to see. It was as if he had a form of x-ray vision, but he knew he didn’t. It was just an acute awareness, thanks to his mutant enhancements.

  He looked down as his right arm. The clothing was burned away and his skin blistered and black. It was also changing right before his eyes. The black turned to a raw pink moments later, and the puss-filled blisters dried up. His skin was back to some semblance of normal within thirty seconds, even though the hair on his arm was gone. He felt his head; he was bald.

  He took a deep breath and felt a surge of energy flow through his body. He had survived the explosion with little consequence. He figured that would come as a surprise to the Nuoreans.

  His weapons were gone, as were most of his clothes. His shoes were still on his feet but his shirt was gone. His belt had managed to hold his pants in place, although both pant legs had burned away almost up to his crotch. He felt around. Everything else down there seemed to be intact.

  He picked up a four-foot-square piece of metal, intending to use it as a shield. It came in handy ten seconds later, as he climbed over the crest of the debris pile and into the view of the Nuoreans. Adam held up the shield in a savage show of defiance. His exposed bare-chest and rippled six-pack, all covered in soot and sweat, only added to the exhibition. He raced toward the line of aliens before any of them got over the shock.

  He hit the line like a fullback, swinging the metal shield from side to side. Four Nuoreans went down before the flash bolts came in. He was hit by two of them, but they barely slowed him down. He held the shield up and deflected two more energy balls, before he tossed the sharp metal sheet like a Frisbee. It spun through the air before slicing through two of the enemy.

  Adam relieved a dead alien of his weapon and began to open up. There had been about twenty Nuoreans at the start of his attack. Three now ran off into the desert. The Nuoreans weren’t cowards, but they did subscribe to the axiom of ‘live-to-fight-another-day.’

  Adam contacted Arieel.

  Don’t go in the buildings! he commanded. They could be rigged to explode.

  Are you all right? Were you close to the explosion?

  A little, but I’m okay. The Nuorean force to the north has been neutralized.

  The ones in the desert are closing in.

  Can you get through the connecting tunnels and to the other side of the buildings?

  Not without breaking through. Why?

  See if you can get to the large building across the parade field. Can you see it?

  No. Let me talk to Riyad.

  Riyad listened to Arieel’s report. His team was between two of the main buildings, their backs against the metal thirty-foot long connecting tunnel. He was just about to lead the team through a doorway in the side of south building. Now he told them to hold off.

  He banged the metal of the tunnel with his elbow. Then he got an idea.

  He pulled out one of the four small laser weapons he had tucked in his waistband. He was saving them for the Nuoreans; he really loved what the thousand-degree beams did to flesh, even if the duration was for only two seconds. Now he had a new purpose for the tiny weapons.

  He stepped back and activated the pencil-shaped device. A red beam appeared, terminating at the wall to the connecting tunnel. He had to work fast, cutting first up then over. He got half the job done before the battery gave out. The second laser did the trick. He kicked on the metal and it fell inward.

  “Everyone inside.”

  A moment later, he was cutting an exit hole on the other side of the tunnel.

  When he poked his head through, it was greeted by a series of bolt splashes from the aliens at the south end of the row of buildings. Answering bolts came from the north. Riyad saw Adam crouched down in a pile of debris from the fallen building. His cover fire was helping, but it wasn’t enough to clear the way to the warehouse.

  Suddenly, rounds from M-101 were added to the mix. The six remaining commandos from the Biddle had made their way around to building number one and were climbing over the rubble pile, shooting across the parade field at the aliens south of Riyad’s position. The fifty or so Nuoreans from the desert were at the buildings now, and pouring hot plasma bolts through the hole Riyad had made in the connecting tunnel. The team couldn’t stay here. They had to make a break for the warehouse.

  Riyad reached down and took Jym by the straps of his armor vest. Coop and Sherri took Kaylor by the arms, and the three remaining Humans with Lt. Chaudhory delighted in grabbing hold of Arieel anywhere they could.

  Everyone raced off for the huge building fifty yards away.

  When Adam saw Riyad break for the warehouse, he stood up and charged forward, closing the gap between him and the Nuoreans to the south with an unbelievable display of raw speed. He zigged and zagged, avoiding bolt streaks with ease. The commandos behind him cut for the warehouse as well, while Adam drew frantic fire of the aliens.

  Two more commandos were lost, but the rest of them made it to the building. Once inside, Adam slammed the door shut, and then with sheer strength, pulled one of the forklift-like vehicles over in front it.

  “Blast firing holes in the walls to the west and south!” he yelled. His orders were obeyed, but only after a brief moment was taken to gawk at the still impressive pile of treasure in the center of the room.

  “Is this the bounty?” one of the Marines asked.

  “Yeah, and you’ll be buried in it if you don’t move your ass!” Adam barked.

  The team moved to the indicated walls. Concentrated fire from the M-101’s opened up ten-inch diameter holes where barrels were thrust through, and the battle continued. The Marines and sailors were incredible shots, a lot better than the aliens. The Nuoreans specialized in ritualized arena combat called Sandica. They weren’t very good with rifles and hand guns.

  But the Nuoreans did have one advantage: there were a lot more of them than there was of Adam’s team. He was down to his original six team members, plus seven remaining Humans commandos. The
Nuorean force from the desert was still fully intact, and adding their numbers to the twenty or so remaining aliens from the buildings, placed the odds at seventy against thirteen—and Adam’s team was trapped inside a building, a building which could be easily destroyed by a cannon bolt from orbit.

  He thought about his two starships that had streaked for space. They were going up against as many as fifteen or so Nuorean fighters. The loss of Nolan’s men and his ship was really having an impact. If they were here, it might have been just what it took to turn the tide of battle. As it was, Adam wasn’t feeling too confident right about now.

  20

  The Biddle and Tobias reached orbit without an issue, but now they were inside a beehive of tiny two-man Nuorean fighters coming at them from every imaginable direction. The shields were holding, and slowly but surely, the pesky little starships were being taken out of commission.

  Lt. Darrin Drake was in the pilotseat of the Tobias, with Sergeant Larry Bond and Petty Officer Gregory Collins at other stations inside the plush pilothouse. They were each skilled commandos, but at the moment, they didn’t have a clue what to do next. Fortunately, they didn’t have to know. It seems that in a billion-dollar luxury starship with all the bells and whistles, the owner wasn’t expected to concern himself with such mundane activities as defense of the ship. Artificial Intelligence, along with some of the fastest, most-advanced computer systems in the galaxy, did that for him. All the three-man crew had to do was strap-in and hold on.

  The Biddle was another issue. The jumpship was built for speed, not for heavy combat. Its shields were adequate, but nothing special, and the four banks of flash cannon were slow to recharge. Major Ryan Drummond was in command, and it was all he could do the keep the ship moving and dodging the incoming bolts. His fire crew had taken out two of the fast and heavily-armed Nuorean fighters, but he was also aware that the over-the-top A.C. Tobias had splashed four—and it wasn’t even a military vessel.