The Legend of Earth (The Human Chronicles Saga -- Book 5)

by T. R. Harris

  “Bullshit!” McCarthy said, replacing Simpson in the face-to-face standoff with Adam. Tobias and Riyad moved up to flank him.

  “It’s okay, guys,” Adam said to them. “We’re just having a discussion.” He turned his attention back to McCarthy. “Whatever’s going to happen on Juir is a couple of months away. Until then, we have run of this ship and time to assess our situation.” He looked over at Simpson. “We may find a way to escape – I’m not opposed to that – but we can’t jump headlong into something until we have all the facts. Most of us have Special Forces training. We know better than to simply react to a situation.”

  There was an awkward silence in the room, as McCarthy’s team looked to him for guidance. Eventually, the hulking, ginger-hair man smiled at Adam. “Fine, we’ll do it your way – for now. But get one thing straight, mate, you’re not in charge of me or my men.”

  “Roger that, Mr. McCarthy, but we are on the same team. We have to work together.”

  The space opened up some around the two men as people in the room began to relax. Adam held out his hand to McCarthy and smiled.

  Nigel gripped the hand tightly, squeezing it hard in a macho act dominance. Adam matched his grip – and then reeled off a powerful left hook to McCarthy’s jaw.

  McCarthy fell heavily to the deck, as tensions soared once more between the two opposing teams. Adam jumped back and raised his hands. “I owed him that!”

  “Stand down!” McCarthy commanded from the floor, while propping himself on one elbow and massaging his jaw with his other hand. He grinned up at Adam. “Good form, Mr. Cain. I guess I did deserve that.” He rose to his feet. “But that’s the only free one you’ll ever get.”

  McCarthy turned away, shoving his way through the throng surrounding him, heading off into the ship; his men followed like a gaggle of steroid-enhanced geese.

  Adam looked over at Sherri and winked.

  “Men,” was all she said.

  McCarthy and his nine-man team claimed the ship’s forward compartments for their own, with McCarthy in the captain’s quarters and Carter Thomas in the XO’s. This area was reserved for the ship’s Juirean contingent and therefore offered more-spacious and better-appointed accommodations.

  As the ranking officer onboard, Adam should have been able to claim the captain’s quarters, but he chose not to make an issue out of it. Instead, he and his people took the more modest quarters found mid-ships. Soon a tense equilibrium was established between the two camps. In fact, the less interaction Adam and his team had with Nigel’s, the better.

  If McCarthy didn’t get them all blown to vapor over the next two months, Adam would have time to think. He needed that time, because a germ of an idea had begun to percolate in his mind….

  For much of the first two weeks aboard the prison ship, Adam’s two alien companions, Kaylor and Jym, had done all they could to find a way around the Juirean’s safeguards, but with no luck. And once the convoy entered gravity wells for the journey to Juir, there wasn’t much more they could do except sit back and enjoy the ride.

  Unfortunately, that was easier said than done, since all the prisoners knew only death awaited them at the journey’s end.

  Being the eternal optimist, Adam chose to spend his time working on an endless array of alternative endings to their predicament, ones where they actually lived to tell their tale. But now the moment of truth was at hand. In a couple of hours they would be shuttling down to the planet Juir, the capital of the Expansion – and about as deep into enemy territory as one could get. At this particular time, Adam Cain, Captain, US Navy SEAL’s, wasn’t feeling his normal cocky self.

  He shrugged. Que sera, sera, whatever will be will be.

  Adam was momentarily distracted when Sherri Valentine emerged from the small grooming station in the cramped compartment they shared, her expression stern, her brow perpetually furrowed these days. Unlike Adam, who had faced his own mortality countless times before while in action, Sherri was just now coming to grips with hers. “Twenty-six years is just too short for it to end here, twenty-thousand light years from home and at the hands of a group of disgusting aliens,” she often mumbled to herself when she thought Adam couldn’t hear. The passing days had only deepened her depression.

  But no matter how grim the situation, Adam wasn’t about to give up. However, as the days passed – and they drew ever-closer to Juir – he was quickly running out of options.

  Adam’s team had free-reign of a series of nine compartments, including a small galley and comfort lounge. Inevitably, they intermingled often with McCarthy’s men, yet both groups kept their distance as much as possible, a wise move considering the tension between the two parties.

  Even though McCarthy had been instrumental in helping his people escape from the Klin, Adam still didn’t trust the large Englishman. McCarthy had been the leader of the Human Converts – and the most-traitorous of them all – voluntarily siding with the aliens against his own race. He had orchestrated the abduction of hundreds, if not thousands, of people from the Earth, sending them into captivity on half a dozen worlds. Those who did not succumb to the Klin’s brainwashing propaganda and become willing accomplices of the Klin were used as slaves or sexual surrogates to breed a compliant force of Second-Generation Humans. The 2G’s were innocent dupes of the Klin, knowing no other truth other than what the Klin told them.

  But McCarthy knew the truth – at least to a point. He knew the Klin needed the Humans to fight a war against the galaxy-ruling Juireans and to help exact a vengeance aimed at satisfying a centuries-long grudge. And in return for his help, McCarthy had been promised nothing less than the Earth herself. With the power of the Klin behind him, McCarthy would be installed as the supreme ruler of the planet, once the ultimate truth came out about the Klin’s involvement with Humanity. It took a certain type of personality to aspire to such heights, a kind of ego willing to sell out his entire race to achieve it.

  This made Nigel McCarthy a psychopath of the first degree.

  Adam could only imagine what a traumatic event it must have been for McCarthy when he learned he’d been played by the Klin, just like the rest of the Human race. He was simply another pawn in the Klin’s ultimate game of galactic chess, to be sacrificed when the time came. Adam would have given anything to have seen the look on McCarthy’s face when he also learned that another race – the Kracori – were to be the Klin’s true partners in galactic domination and not the Humans. It would have been priceless.

  Instead of partnering with the Converts, the Klin were using mankind’s primitive savagery and quest for revenge to simply reduce the Juirean military forces to a more manageable level. Then the Klin and Kracori would move in to finish the job. After that, the Human race was expendable; the Klin couldn’t allow such a potent and potentially dangerous race to exist.

  But the Humans had had other ideas. Seeing through the ruse long before the execution of the Klin’s final plan, the Humans had surprised the Juirean forces off Falor-Kapel and defeated their fleet in such a lopsided victory that it left the Human force almost fully intact and much too strong for the Klin-Kracori alliance to overcome.

  In the aftermath of the battle, Adam had spent some time trying to figure out what the Klin’s next move might be. In one way the plan had succeeded; the Juirean forces had been decimated, at least in this part of the galaxy. But now it was the Humans who had become the dominant military force in the region, at least until the Juirean units regrouped.

  By his count, Adam estimated the Human fleet was now comprised of a little over one-thousand warships, compared to the Klin-Kracori fleet of three hundred – a number the Klin leader Linuso had revealed at their last meeting. As it turned out, all the Klin had managed to do was simply replace one powerful enemy with another. And without a countering force of equal or greater strength, there was nothing the Klin could do to whittle down the Human forces to a more manageable level, not without the help of the Juireans. It was a classic Catch-22 situation. />
  So what was the Klin’s endgame? Was it to defeat the Juirean fleet? That had been done, but still the Juireans survived, on Juir and countless other locations throughout the galaxy. Was it to defeat the Humans? That had never been their main goal. They would accomplish that through simple battle attrition with the Juireans. If everything had gone according to plan, the Humans would have been reduced to an insignificant player in the game, one which could be easily eliminated at some future date.

  Their goal had always been to have the Humans clear a path for them all the way to the planet Juir. They sought to excoriate the planet, much as the Juireans had done to the Klin homeworld thousands of years before. But even that act would not eradicate the Juireans from the galaxy. The destruction of Juir would be more symbolic than decisive, and just the beginning of the decline of Juirean influence within the galaxy. And then with the help of the Kracori – instead of the Humans – the Klin would begin the slow and arduous task of ferreting out all the remaining Juireans.

  If that was their endgame, what could they do now?

  It had been several weeks before Adam had come up with the most-feasible Plan B for the Klin. It was simple: They would still attack Juir. Whether that action would have a lasting influence on the galaxy or not was anyone’s guess. But the Klin would have their revenge – or at least a huge slice of it – for the destruction of their homeworld. It wasn’t the ultimate solution, but it was the best they could do at the time.

  If that truly was the Klin’s Plan B, then Adam might actually have something to offer the Juireans in exchange for his life, as well as the lives of his companions. But, damn, he would have to do the best sales job in history to pull it off….

  Chapter 3

  Hydon Ra Elys was the most-powerful living entity in the galaxy, but he would have surrendered that title in a heartbeat for just a moment of peace in his troubled world.

  For over four thousand years the Juirean race had ruled the galaxy, and during all that time crises had come and gone, each dealt with by a Council Elder such as himself. Some of the conflicts these ancient Juireans presided over had left the race stronger, while others had rocked it to its very core. Yet throughout it all, the Juireans had survived.

  But now, as Hydon struggled with the deluge of events surrounding this latest crisis, he wasn’t so sure they would survive this time, at least not as the undisputed leaders of the galaxy. There were simply too many forces uniting against them.

  He took a moment to massage his neck, relieving only a fraction of the stress that resided there. Then he looked down at his desktop and the six datapads resting there, all lit with information catastrophic to his people and the further existence of the Expansion.

  Hydon was the head of the Juirean Council, and therefore at the very pinnacle of political power in the galaxy. A succession vote had replaced the former Elder, Nylor Ca Crunic, with Hydon nearly thirty-two standard years earlier. Nylor was older than Hydon and remained a member of the Council to this day. Juireans advanced through a process of confidence votes, supported by the Councilmembers’ real-life experience with the nominees’ abilities. Nylor had not been a poor Elder; the Council had simply decided that Hydon’s skill set had been superior to Nylor’s at the time.

  In light of the current situation – namely the war with the Humans and the Klin – Hydon knew his days as Elder were numbered. He also knew the confidence vote would not take place until the current situation had been stabilized – or Hydon made a major blunder. Hydon was tempted to label his authorization of the attack upon the planet Earth as a blunder worthy of demotion, even though he also knew he had been operating on the best intelligence available at the time. With the current crisis far from resolved, Hydon knew that now was not the time to make a change, as did the majority of the Council. However, when the time was right, Hydon Ra Elys would be the first to vote for his removal as Elder.

  His thoughts were interrupted by the entry into his office of three of his most senior advisors. They were Fleet Marshal Relion, his Counselor Yol-fin and Councilmember Wydor. Even though he had been expecting their arrival, Hydon did not feel prepared for the decisions that had to be made at this meeting.

  Hydon Ra Elys had been born in the K-32 breeding facility on Salin. As it was with all Juireans for the past three thousand years, he never knew his birth-female, or where the seed came from that would fertilize her. Upon birth, he was taken to the rearing stations at the facility and nursed to Stage Two by the postnatal specialists. Testing had begun at age three, after which he was advanced to pre-Overlord screening. By the age of eight, he had shown enough promise to be permanently assigned to the Overlord Corps and transferred to the planet Crilis for advanced training.

  He personally did not set foot upon the planet Juir until he had reached twelve-standard when he made his first pilgrimage to the planet as part of Overlord orientation.

  He could still remember the awe and thrill he felt when he first stepped foot upon the birthplace of his race. The air was sweet, and the verdant hills sang with the rustling of the leaves of the brilliant mily trees. The tour had included visits to the Southern Sea, as well as the ancient Guard facilities in Juir City. Yet the highlight of the trip came when the caravan carried the three hundred young Overlords to the top of the Kacoran Plain. Hydon was literally shaking in his knees when he first saw Malor Tower, the great pyramid majestically rising up in all its glory, golden starlight reflecting off its glass exterior.

  Then came the moment every Juirean covets, the time when they first set eyes upon the Contact Monument. The huge pyramid that was Malor Tower had been built directly over the monument – the very place where an alien race had first made contact with the Juirean people. Of course, at that time the people of the planet Axlus were not called Juireans – only those from Juir City called themselves that. But that soon changed when the inhabitants of the planet realized once and for all that they were not people of a single city, or land or continent, but instead belonged to an entire planet and to a single race of beings.

  For millennia Juireans from across the Expansion had come to Juir to behold the monument, whether they be Admins, Guards, Counselors, Overlords or Elites. All Juireans were welcome.

  It would be twenty-eight more years before Hydon would return to the birthplace of his race. Thereafter, he would depart on various assignments, but then always return, having acquired just a little more experience, a little more respect from his peers.

  Then forty-one years later he returned to Juir for good. He was voted to Elite Class, and six years later found a seat on the Juirean Council itself.

  Yet even to this day Hydon could still remember the overwhelming joy he felt when first viewing the Contact Monument, even though now he sat in an office forty-two stories above the monolith and directly over the tall spire that marked the very first contact point by an alien race with the soil of Juir.

  As his guests took their seats, Hydon felt a sour taste welling up in his throat, as the thought of that first alien contact lingered. That contact had been made by the race of beings known as the Klin, and yes, the history and legacies of both races were that intertwined, trailing all the back to the very beginning when the people of Axlus became the Juireans. A day didn’t go by that the Elder had not thought of the Klin, whether chanting some curse word whose origins were long forgotten, or curious about the latest rumor he’d heard regarding the long-extinct Klin.

  Hydon knew that it was simply an act of fate that found him in the position of Elder right at the very moment the Klin chose to reveal their continued existence, to prove all the rumors true and to set the Expansion and the Juirean people on a collision course with their oldest nemesis. That was unfortunate. And even though the verification of the existence of the Klin was an event of monumental proportion to both the Juireans and to the Expansion, his most immediate concern was not with the Klin, but rather with the race of beings called Humans.

  “I haven’t much time, Relion, so please get
started,” Hydon commanded, while accepting yet another datapad from the outstretched hand of his Fleet Marshal.

  “Yes, my Lord. First, I will let you know that the sentries have been able to track the Human fleet since their departure from the Falor-Kapel system. They are making no pretense now as to their strength or intentions. They are headed this way.”

  “How long?”

  “They have only just now left the system, but by traditional routes around the Core, they should arrive at the outer boundary in approximately four standard months.”

  “Their strength?”

  “It’s hard for the sentries to tell at that distance, but they estimate around fifteen-hundred ships of various classes, including approximately twelve hundred warships.”

  The Elder was silent for a moment, as all in the room thought the unspoken. And then: “Defenses – what are the prospects?”

  Relion sighed a little too loudly and was embarrassed by the action. No one else at the meeting commented. “We are rushing all available warcraft to the area. We are also placing nuclear mines across the boundary, although the distances are much too great to be of much use. It would be pure luck if one of them is contacted by an approaching Human ship. There is a very wide area from which they could make their final approach, assuming they don’t split and choose a multiple front assault.” The Fleet Marshal paused a moment to let the information sink in.

  “What is your assessment of our defensive strength in four months’ time?”

  “My command counts a total of nearly five thousand Class-2 or higher warcraft in the Expansion at this time. According to estimates, only around eight hundred could make it here in time, including three Class-6’s and our remaining Class-7.”

  Relion paused again, an action which caused the Elder to widen his eyes at his subordinate. “And…?”