Scorched Earth: (The Human Chronicles Saga Book #16)

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Scorched Earth: (The Human Chronicles Saga Book #16) Page 2

by T. R. Harris


  His adventures continue….

  Chapter 1

  Another day…another war.

  With his friends now trapped behind enemy lines, Adam Cain insisted on sitting in on the latest war briefing. It was held in the Union Military HQ building outside Phoenix, in a small conference room, the solitary air conditioning unit blasting with such resolve that Adam wished he’d brought a coat. There were six other officers in the room, all of higher rank, along with three serious-looking civilians.

  Admiral Morton Hollingsworth was speaking, referring to a large video screen embedded in the wall. “It seems that as we—the Union forces—were taking the lead in the fight against the Sol-Kor, the Juireans were sitting back and consolidating their forces. The result: a four-to-one numerical advantage for the mane-heads.”

  “What about from a firepower standout?” asked Rear Admiral Cletus Adame. “The reason we took the lead was because of our superior capabilities.”

  “Capabilities that are no longer superior, Admiral,’ Hollingsworth replied. “It seems that no sooner do we make some technological breakthrough in regards to weaponry or propulsion, before the Juireans have it, too. Then they improve upon it incrementally, which is then followed by our acquisition of the new technology from them. Both our R&D divisions are as porous as sieves. There aren’t any secrets anymore, gentlemen. The result is our firepower and technology levels are about on par, with the one glaring exception of the four-to-one advantage they hold in the number of warships. David.” Hollingsworth turned the briefing over to the another full admiral, David Nash.

  A new image appeared on the screen. It showed a graphic of the Orion-Cygnus arm of the galaxy, and next to it the minor spar called the Kidis Frontier. There were blue dots all along the border between the two arms, countering red dots on the Kidis side.

  “Currently we’re in a defensive standoff, but that’s about to change. The Juireans are funneling more assets into the Frontier, while the best we can do is create an ever-weakening deterrent force on our side. We certainly don’t have the assets to engage in any offensive actions. We estimate that within a month, the Juireans will have consolidated enough units on their side to launch an invasion.”

  “It’s even worse than that,” General Dominic Dinesh interjected. The gruff, seventy-four year-old officer was a throwback to the time before military ranks were consolidated, and one of the few to retain the title of General after the changeover. “The Union itself is now in jeopardy. Since we’re barely ten years old, many of our member planets lack any depth of loyalty to the Earth. Now they see the Expansion—an organization over three thousand years old—as having overwhelming military power and territorial dominance. Although none of them have come right out and said it, analysts believe that should an invasion occur, many of our members will bolt to the other side. It could turn into a domino-effect after that, leaving Earth to stand alone against the aliens.”

  The room fell silent, as each person in the room searched his experience and reasoning for a silver-lining to what had been revealed so far. None was found, only frustration voiced by Admiral Nash.

  “And this is the thanks we get for saving their scaly hides from the Sol-Kor.” A few glanced at Adam, as if to say, Sorry that all your efforts were in vain.

  “Excuse me, sirs,” Adam began. Although he was only a lowly Navy captain, he was the most-celebrated military officer on the planet. His words carried weight.

  “If we can’t beat the enemy militarily, then that leaves politics and technology. Is there anything that can be done on the diplomatic front?”

  “Unfortunately, Captain, for months we’ve been beating our heads against a brick wall, and with no results,” said Hollingsworth. “The Juireans have been planning this war for several years, and it’s ironic, but it was our success against Sol-Kor that accelerated their timetable. After our victories, most of the galaxy began looking to us as the default leader, the most powerful, the empire worthy of their loyalty. The Expansion was disintegrating, while the Union was growing. The Juireans see this war as the only way to save their empire. And a negotiated peace would only highlight their status as a second-class power in the galaxy, at least in their opinion.”

  “What about technology? Is there anything we’re working on that will give us a leg up?”

  All eyes turned to Admiral Rolf Kushner. He ran the Union’s Military Technology and Development Division. “Of course, Captain, there’s always any number of promising technologies we’re pursuing at any given time, yet none we can put into full production. Not yet. And as Admiral Hollingsworth intimated, it seems that as soon as we come up with something truly revolutionary, the Juireans get it, too. We’re pretty sure it’s not any of us passing this intel along to the Juireans. It has to be all the aliens we have in the division. As Dominic said, many of our member races have a very weak bond with the Union. Individuals can be easily bought.”

  “Can the aliens be restricted from the more sensitive labs?” one of the civilians asked.

  “Hell, some of them are making the most important contributions. If we cut out all alien involvement, we wouldn’t have nearly the number of breakthroughs we’re having.”

  The meeting continued for another hour, as each participant provided a more structured presentation regarding their area of expertise. When the point of exhaustion—and despondency—was reached, Hollingsworth adjourned the meeting, but not before tasking each of them to work on a solution to the crisis, no matter how wild or crazy it might sound. He was to present a plan of action to the President in three days. Everyone was counting on the best military minds in the Union to find a solution, a strategy that would not only save the Union, but the Human race as well.

  Adam stayed behind to speak with Hollingsworth alone.

  “I want to go after Andy and the others on Worak-nin,” he said.

  Hollingsworth’s face went ashen. He shook his head. “I knew this was coming. Son…there’s no easy way to say it, but it’s being reported that Admiral Tobias is dead.”

  Adam felt his knees go weak. He fought for the words. “Reported? How reliable?”

  “It came from Paulson. He has a short-range comm unit with him. His message was picked up by a passing vessel friendly to our side and relayed back to the Union.”

  “When…how?”

  “We just got the news two days ago. The Juireans found the group hiding out in the mountains and killed Andy, along with three of this men.”

  “And you didn’t tell me! What about the others?”

  “Only two of Andy’s team survived, Paulson and Sergeant Morgan.”

  “You know what I mean, sir. What about Sherri and Arieel?”

  The Admiral hesitated, which only made Adam’s heart race faster and his breath come shorter.

  “They’re alive,” the Admiral said, raising his hand. “Paulson tracked them back to Panur’s palace under heavy Juirean guard.”

  “And this was two days ago? Are they still there?”

  “Unknown. We haven’t had any contact with Commander Paulson since then.”

  “We have to do something—”

  “Like what, Captain? You heard the briefing. The Frontier is being locked down tighter than a drum, and the mane-heads are deploying passive detection buoys so they can track every ship that moves. And even if that wasn’t the case, it wouldn’t be you leading the rescue attempt.”

  “And why the hell not…sir?”

  “Calm down, Adam. You know why. You’re a symbol for the Human race, as well as the Union. How would it look if you went out and got yourself killed, just when we need our heroes alive and well?”

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. Your last little adventure didn’t end so well. It took a major effort to get you back from the Klin, and that was before the Juireans deployed thousands of additional ships to the region. Any rescue attempt now would be iffy at best.”

  “What about using the Mark VII?”
/>   Hollingsworth furrowed his brow and pursed his lips. “I’m not going to ask where you heard about that; I don’t want to know.”

  “It’s based on Panur’s trans-dimensional drive,” Adam continued. “With it I’ll be able to pop in and out before the Juireans can do a damn thing to stop me.”

  “That ship is experimental, and based more on the original modifications Panur made to the Pegasus than the TD ship. Besides that, it doesn’t work, not reliably. We’ve only been able to make three light-year jumps, and then with an hour recharge between hops. That’s makes it only slighter faster than a K-Drive in a full gravity-well.”

  “But it’s stealth.”

  “For three light-years. Then you’re sitting there for an hour with your ass hanging out, only able to maneuver on chem drive. It’s a power source problem. So far we haven’t been able to figure out Panur’s energy equations.”

  “I could take the ship above the plane and then drop into a less-guarded area of the Frontier. Even if the Juireans do detect the ship, I’ll be gone long before they can get to me.”

  “Admit it, after a few jumps they’ll know exactly where you’re headed.” Hollingsworth shook his head again, this time more emphatically. “Sorry, Captain, but it’s too risky. And what if the ship falls into Juirean hands? It’s a miracle we’ve been able to keep it a secret this long.” Hollingsworth snorted. “That’s probably because the damn thing doesn’t work! No…a rescue attempt with the Mark VII is off the table. Maybe another team with another ship.”

  “But Admiral—”

  “If you want me to make it official, Captain, you got it: Permission denied! Is that clear enough for you?”

  “I could go to—”

  “To whom? The President? Good luck with that. Now that he has you back from the Sol-Kor universe, he’s nervous as a cat every time you even get behind the wheel of a car. He needs your fame, Adam. He needs you out there as a symbol of Human ability and determination. Like it or not, you’re the personification of Superman to most of the galaxy. It wouldn’t be good press if Clark Kent went and got himself killed, now would it? Like I said, I’ll consider a rescue mission. But not with you—or Riyad, for that matter—and not in the Mark VII…which for the record, doesn’t exist.”

  Adam’s shoulders slumped. What could he do? He couldn’t let Sherri and Arieel end up like Andy.

  Hollingsworth placed a hand on his shoulder. “Adam, you’ve had one hell of a past twenty years. You’ve saved the planet and the galaxy more times than Captain Kirk, and helped make the Union what it is today. Isn’t that enough for one lifetime? Let the rest of us take over from here. Take my advice: Relax, and let the President parade you around as a symbol of Human superiority. Bask in the glory, son. You deserve it.”

  “And Sherri and Arieel?”

  “Let me worry about that. I’m not going to forget about them.”

  Adam smiled wryly. “Yessir. Sounds like a plan. I just have to get my Superman cape back from of the dry cleaners.”

  Hollingsworth wasn’t buying Adam’s sudden change of heart. “I know you’re being sarcastic, but I’m serious, Captain. Don’t let me find you sneaking around behind my back. The President will let me do what’s necessary if it means keeping you alive and well on good ol’ Mother Earth.”

  Adam saluted the Admiral before spinning on his heel and leaving the room. He was in a hurry. He had to talk with Riyad.

  There was no time to lose.

  Chapter 2

  “What the hell is a Mark VII anyway?” Riyad asked. He and Adam were slinking along a shadowed wall of an isolated hangar on the vast testing grounds of the Union Technology and Development Division. It was a little past midnight on the night of the war briefing. Adam was in full uniform, just in case.

  “It’s like the Mark IV we had, only more advanced. Ever since Panur made his changes to the Pegasus, T&D have been trying to duplicate the feat.”

  “And they’ve done it?”

  “Not completely…shush, we’re coming up on the sentries.”

  Adam came around the corner of the building with his chest pumped out and walking with purpose. The two guards at the hangar door jumped to attention and saluted. Even if the set of four gold bars on his shoulder boards weren’t enough, they recognized Adam immediately.

  “Captain Cain!” one of the E-5s stammered. “Good evening, sir. What can we do for you?”

  “Mr. Tarazi and I need access to the hangar. Please open the door.”

  The other guard was frantically scrolling through his datapad. “Sir, I don’t see your name on the authorization list. Either of your names.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t, sergeant. Datapads can be hacked. Our schedules are not to be broadcast. Now open the door.”

  “But sir—”

  Adam smiled. “Sergeant, are you trying to tell me that I’m not allowed inside? What do you think I’m going to do, steal the Mark VII.” The two guards looked at each other. “That’s right. How would I even know about the ’Seven if I’m not authorized to enter the hangar?”

  “I’ll have to make a call—”

  “And wake up a junior officer who doesn’t have the clearance to know about our orders? Do think every officer is privy to such classified information?”

  “C’mon, Bill, it’s Captain Cain.”

  The first guard looked at the second. He hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Of course, sir.” He grinned. “I’m sure there aren’t very many places you can’t go,” he said with a nervous laugh.

  The other guard had already tapped in the security code for the door. Adam walked through the doorway while Riyad grasped the enlisted man’s shoulder. “We’ll only be a minute. And hush-hush, sergeant. Top secret stuff. You understand?”

  “Yessir, Mr. Tarazi. And I’d like to say it’s an honor to meet the two of you.”

  Riyad smiled, flashing his impossibly white teeth at the guards. Then he winked.

  “Hurry up, Mister Tarazi, we don’t have all night,” Adam said impatiently.

  Once they were inside the hangar, Adam shut the door and locked it. Through his brain interface device, he activated the lights in the hangar. Even manufacturers on Earth were now using Formilian circuit controllers, which gave him control over more than just the lights.

  Fluorescent lamps in the ceiling popped on, quickly heating up to full strength, giving time for their eyes to adjust. The room was large and dominated by a sleek, silver-hulled starship. The craft looked very traditional, almost like a sleek jet fighter, but on a much larger scale. It was three hundred feet long by seventy wide, with a sloping forward section dominated by a pair of rectangular viewports. The fuselage widened closer to the aft section until it reached a pair of short matching wings radiating out on each side, with an oblong power generator attached to the ends. There was also a series of gangly-looking tubes strapped to the hull, looking out of place. They ringed the center section of the ship, held there by thick, black cables.

  They could also see several recessed ports lining the hull in a number of locations, as well as on the tips of the wing generators pods. Adam had read some of the specs. The ship possessed both energy and ballistic armament, and quite a few of them by the looks of things. There was also an experimental type of torpedo onboard, one which was capable of utilizing a form of trans-dimensional propulsion, if the power supply problem could be solved.

  The main entrance hatch opened on Adam’s mental command and the interior lights snapped on.

  The two men entered a sizeable airlock, which wasn’t in use on the surface but would come in handy in space. Beyond the next doorway, they entered a spacious central common room, more spacious than other starship layouts since it served multiple functions, such as dining, a lounge and auxiliary control, all without the need for dividing walls. The bridge was to the right, while the passageway leading to the engine room was lined with long tubes along each bulkhead, forward and aft. These were auxiliary energy generators, like those s
trapped to the exterior of the ship. With the incredible energy draw the jump-drive demanded, the ship’s designers had to use every square inch of available space. There were two small staterooms aft.

  There weren’t a lot of creature comforts aboard the Mark VII. This was a prototype, and clearly a work-in-progress.

  Adam and Riyad proceeded aft to the main engine room. Another hatchway beyond led to the service bay, which contained a small, six-person shuttle. Again, nothing fancy.

  “So what makes this ship so special?” Riyad asked. “I know it’s similar to Panur’s first version of the enhanced Pegasus, but obviously without any style.”

  “The geeks know the technology works, but they haven’t been able to fully power the modules yet. That’s why both the interior and exterior is full of extra of generators. That also makes the damn thing incredibly heavy, which then requires even more energy for non-gravity transits. My friend in T&D—who shall remain anonymous—said they’ve been pulling their hair out trying to make it work. It’s a case of damned if they do, damned if they don’t. Attaching a dozen exterior generators to the ship in order for the drive to function makes the ship too heavy to lift off the ground.”

  Riyad leaned against a huge round generator module and crossed his arms. “So, my friend, why are we here? I thought we were going to rescue Sherri and Arieel.”

  “I have an idea. Pogo!”

  Riyad frowned, confused.

  On a nearby control console, a pale green orb materialized.

  “Pogo? You named it Pogo?”

  “Yeah, just seemed right. It keeps bouncing around like a pogo-stick.”

  I know from your thoughts you actually named me after a cartoon possum.

  Now Adam frowned as the object spoke in his mind.

  Riyad moved closer to the tiny, four-and-a-half-inch diameter metal globe, covered in strange hieroglyphic markings. “I know…Pogo is supposed to be some kind of ancient power generator, so is that your plan?”

  “It’s worth a try.”

 

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