Alien Games (The Human Chronicles Saga Book 17)

by T. R. Harris

  “To the death?”

  “Yes, to the death.”

  “And what happens if one of these aliens wins the challenge?”

  Daric cocked his head. “In that event, the score for the victor goes up, making him even more attractive to potential challengers. Unfortunately, it never ends well for the challenged. They will continue to fight until defeated.”

  Now Adam smiled. “So when do we start?”

  “Patience, Adam Cain. We have only now acquired eight hundred six species from the gathering around your capital planet. They must all go through the evaluation process before individual points can be awarded to their kind based on general findings. In the meantime, a fleet of your Kac vessels containing many of these species is even now assembling, intending to challenge the Nuor. This was expected, indeed planned for. We will learn much during this confrontation, with the value of immunity points changing as the proficiency of each participating species is evaluated.”

  “And what about me?”

  “You will be transported to a holding planet, along with members from hundreds of other species we’ve acquired so far. Again, you should feel prideful. You are the only creature in this galaxy to which I have revealed our true intentions. You are the primer player in your galaxy. From what I have witnessed so far, that distinction may be accurate.”

  “In that case, maybe you should be kissing my hand, you sonofabitch. You think you have this all worked out, but you don’t.”

  “Ah, I love the antagonism. You are trying to insult and provoke me. It is classic game strategy. I do hope there are many more like you.”

  “You can bet your sweet ass there are, and we don’t like being played.”

  Daric shook his head. “I’m afraid it is too late for that, Adam Cain. The game has already begun.”

  Chapter 6

  The allied response fleet numbered nine hundred forty-eight vessels, and after much squabbling, the Juireans prevailed and were placed in command. The Humans had only sixty-one ships to contribute, with the bulk of their forces far away in the Orion-Cygnus arm of the galaxy.

  Riyad was okay with this. Humans had taken the lead against the Sol-Kor, and look what that got them. Now it was the Juirean’s turn to be the point of the spear.

  Riyad and Sherri boarded one of the only eight Human warships in the vicinity of Formil and joined up with the fleet near the planet LocVer. The alien fleet had bolted away from Formil, but then slowed and weighed anchor a third of the way into a section of the galaxy closest to Formil, a place called the Radis Spur. This was the area the Juireans had retreated to after leaving their homeworld in advance of the attack by the Kracori. They had additional resources in the area, which could come in handy. They also knew local space intimately. That, too, was an advantage.

  It would take the allied force four days to reach the invaders from the assembly point. Trimen O’lac was aboard one of the twenty Formilian ships in the fleet, communicating with the Riyad and Sherri several times a day. He was going ballistic with each passing hour, frustrated because he wasn’t allowed to set off after Lila. The trail of the Aris ship had vanished twelve hours after leaving the Formilian system, yet before it did, it had maintained a straight line course, one leading directly for the Kidis Frontier.

  Zee had been found there, near the planet Incus, so it was reasoned that was where the Aris would be found. Their original world had been destroyed three billion years before, yet it was possible they set up shop somewhere nearby. Even then, over such an incredible passage of time, stars tend to wander. It would be a miracle if anything was even remotely similar to how it was back then.

  It was the only clue Trimen had to work with—until he found Adam and learned what he knew.

  At the moment, it was believed Adam was aboard one of the three-mile long warships in the invader’s fleet, a force of over four hundred ships just floating in space, seemingly waiting for something to happen. The confidence the aliens exhibited in the face of an impending attack by over double their assets made the strategists nervous. The enemy knew the allies’ capabilities better than they knew those of the invaders. Still, the attack on Formil had to be answered. After the battle, the allies would have a better idea what they were up against. That was another reason the planners were nervous.

  “I have reserved a vessel for after the battle so we may go after Lila,” Trimen told Sherri over the comm link.

  “Assuming that ship survives.”

  “I have been assured this initial contact will be tentative at best, designed to probe the offensive and defensive capabilities of the invaders.”

  Trimen was more privy to the attack plans than were Sherri and Riyad. It was as though the Juireans were keeping the Human contingent in the dark intentionally, just so they could claim credit for whatever victory could be pulled from the jaws of the humiliating defeat at Formil. A senior captain was in charge of the Humans. Sherri and Riyad were on his ship.

  “Any plans for the big muther, where Adam is…we assume,” Sherri asked

  “None at this time,” answered Captain Douglas Davy of the USF Lexington. “I’ve asked the Juireans repeatedly and they just say it depends on the flow of the battle. I get the impression rescuing Captain Cain is low on their list of priorities.”

  Adam had almost single-handily demolished the entire Juirean high command a year ago, so Sherri could understand their reluctance to go out of their way to recover him, if he was still alive. She had a feeling he was. The aliens were more intent on capturing members of different species than killing them, having something to do with these games they were planning. That gave her hope that Adam was also just one of the hundreds of prisoners.

  She smiled. That could prove to be a mistake on the alien’s part.

  ********

  “Your fleet approaches,” Daric said with glee. He had come to Adam’s new cell—this one larger and more secure. Realizing the futility of escape aboard the huge starship, Adam chose to bide his time until they reached the holding planet, as Daric called it. That would open up a whole new variety of escape possibilities.

  “Are you preparing to surrender?” Adam asked the Lead-Player.

  Daric smiled. “I will indeed miss you when you are gone, Adam Cain. You are a quick and intelligent being. I enjoy your humor, even as I know it is rooted in hatred for me.”

  “Bingo!”

  “I do not understand.”

  “It’s a game we play. You just won.”

  “As is appropriate and expected.”

  “Do I get invited to a front-row seat for the coming battle?”

  Daric frowned. “Why would you? No, you are to remain here. This coming challenge is of no concern to you.”

  “Not unless you lose it.”

  “That will not happen. There is a surprise waiting for your forces. The possibility of our defeat is beyond calculation.”

  “Still, wouldn’t you want to have me near so you can gloat about your victory?”

  “You are attempting to persuade me to remove you from your cell, ostensibly so you can affect some kind of escape. That will not happen, and your efforts are disappointingly transparent. If you wish to go against me, please make it more challenging. Otherwise I may downgrade your score, placing you within reach of many more challengers once the list is distributed.”

  “Sorry, dude. I’m still trying to learn the rules.”

  “They will be explained to you as needed. For now, be aware that the first team challenge is about to begin, and the Nuoreans are anxious to begin scoring points, at the expense of hundreds of your warships and their crews.”

  Chapter 7

  Riyad and Sherri were on the bridge of the Lexington, a fast-attack battleship with carrier capacity for sixty fighters. Captain Douglas Davy invited them to watch the battle, although assigning them no duties. All the crew stations were already manned.

  The enemy fleet had almost begrudgingly moved when the allies approached, like it was more of an incon
venience than anything else. They formed a line of ships, four deep and separated by half a million miles between each row, then they charged their weapons.

  Instruments aboard the Lexington read the electronic signatures of the weapons as standard flash cannon. There were three hundred twenty-four large ships with eighteen batteries each, with the remainder of the four-hundred ship force made up of smaller vessels with only six batteries each. The three-mile long carrier vessels—three of them in the fleet—had three hundred weapons ports, plus several launch bays containing hundreds of small fighters.

  The allies had thirteen huge capital ships of their own, seven hundred cruisers and destroyer-class vessels, and two hundred smaller support vessels. There were over six hundred small fighters in the launch bays of the carriers.. The two-man strikecraft should protect the larger ships from harassing attacks by the enemy fighters, allowing them to concentrate fire on the invader ships of similar size and firepower. Unfortunately, there were no units to go head-to-head with the three monster craft. Maybe after enough enemy units had been neutralized, the allies would attempt a concentrated attack on the alien behemoths.

  Strategy would depend on how the battle progressed. A large part of the allied command wanted only a brief encounter, something quick in and quick out. That was the preliminary strategy. After that, a more long-term plan could be formulated.

  The fighters were released, filling the tac screens with bright blue dots signifying friendly forces. Moments later, swarms of answering contacts poured from the ass-end of the huge carriers, these painted red on the screens.

  At the same time, the destroyers and cruisers accelerated to attack speed and closed on the fringes of the sheet of waiting enemy ships. The invaders were greatly outnumbered, but they still turned toward the incoming ships and began saturating the space between forces with flares of brilliant blue-white plasma.

  At the last moment, the diffused screen of allies warcraft join up to form a concentrated phalanx only twenty ships square, yet with row upon row behind them. Shields glowed white, yet they continued until breaking through the thin line of enemy warships.

  “Looks like standard diffusion screens, Captain,” a crewmember reported. “Nothing really high tech.”

  Captain Davy remained silent. His ship was still in the rear, held in reserve along with the large Juirean Class Fives and Sixes. It wouldn’t be wise to commit your big guns until you knew if the aliens had any secret weapons up their sleeves.

  The glowing thread of allied ships sliced through the enemy lines with relative ease and then looped back over, striking another part of the layer of invader craft like some sort of sea monster breaking the surface then diving back underwater at another point. Enemy losses began to pile up; however they were matched by allied losses.

  Calculating the numbers, the Juireans gave the order for the larger ships to attack. Over half of the response fleet would be lost at this rate, but the enemy would be completely destroyed. The Juireans were okay with that.

  The Lexington moved out, temporarily engaging a light-speed gravity-well before dropping out and proceeding on maneuvering wells only. At this distance, even the flash from the currently battle would take minutes to reach them, so it appeared as though the ship was heading into clear space. Then the scene changed. They were in the mix, with flashes lighting the space around them in every direction. A hazy blue film covered the forward and side viewports as diffusion shields absorbed enemy flash bolts. Tiny fighters chased each other in and around the larger ships, even as cannon batteries aboard the Union battleship began to pick off invader ships with deadly accuracy. The enemy vessels could be destroyed—as could the allies. It was the uniformity of technology that gave hope to the forces from the Milky Way.

  “Incoming, Captain!” another of the bridge crew called out. “New targets, bearing oh-nine-five, up forty.”

  “Confirm new targets,” the captain ordered.

  “Confirmed, sir. These are new, not part of the original fleet.”

  “Give me a count.”

  A slight hesitation, then: “Nine hundred to a thousand, many still coming in range.”

  “Open a link with fleet comman—”

  “Fleet command on the box, sir!”

  “The retreat order is given,” said a calm Juirean voice over the bridge speakers. “Regroup at coordinates Contingency Green. I repeat, regroup at C-Green. Acknowledge.”

  Davy pressed the comm button on the arm of his command chair. “Acknowledged, C-Green…breaking off attack.” Then he spoke to the bridge crew. “Recover all strikecraft. Transmit departure vector six-eight-eight. Have all craft assume that heading. Report when all birds are in the nest.”

  He turned to Sherri and Riyad. “Looks like there are a lot more of those bastards around than we anticipated. No wonder they weren’t worried.”

  Sherri didn’t respond. All she was concerned about was Adam. Her earlier feeling that he was alive was gone, replaced by the terrifying proposition that she may never see him again.

  Sensing her discomfort, Riyad placed an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close.

  She whispered in his ear. “Let’s get the hell out of here. I don’t want any of these guys to see me cry.”

  ********

  Riyad and Sherri were alone in her stateroom. Neither had spoken for several minutes, each lost in their thoughts. A box squawked on the bulkhead.

  “Ms. Valentine, this is Captain Davy.”

  “I’m here. So is Riyad.”

  “There’s a ship approaching, transmitting an old Union transponder code. I ran it through the system and it came up classified. After further investigation the ship was identified as the Pegasus II. Wasn’t that Captain Cain’s old ship?”

  Both Sherri and Riyad froze. It was Riyad who answered. “Where is it now?”

  “That’s the strange thing. It appeared for a moment, sent out a rendezvous request, and then disappeared. It just came back on the screens about half-a-light from us, paralleling our course.”

  “It’s made no threating moves?”

  “No, sir, why would it?”

  “Never mind. We’re on our way to the bridge.”

  ********

  When they reached the bridge, a concerned Captain Davy pulled them aside. “What’s going on here? You two look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “In a way we have. The Pegasus II was the ship the mutant Panur converted into a trans-dimensional jump ship,” Riyad reported.

  “The one that took you to the Sol-Kor universe?”

  “One and the same.”

  “What happened to it?”

  “Lila—the same Lila that now rules the galaxy—took it and met back up with Panur. Then she returned, but not the ship. It’s assumed Panur kept it.”

  Now Captain Davy’s expression matched that of Sherri and Riyad. Like nearly everyone in the galaxy, he knew of Panur and his powers.

  “What should I do? You know him better than I do,” said the captain.

  “Can you open a link to the Pegasus?”

  “We don’t have a line, but we can send a flash in his direction and see if he answers.”

  “Do it,” said Riyad. “I’d like to talk to him before you let him aboard your ship.”

  ********

  Ten minutes later the gray, almost featureless face of Panur was on a screen in the secure comm room—the SCIF—aboard the Lexington. Sherri and Riyad were visible to the alien, while Captain Davy leaned against a wall out of sight.

  “Greetings, my friends,” said the alien, his voice unemotional.

  “What the hell, Panur? Why are you here?” Sherri said, cutting right to the chase.

  Panur was taken aback by her abruptness. “Forgive me, but I have been monitoring events; I always have. Did you expect me to sit idle with Lila missing?”

  “I thought you didn’t care anymore.”

  “I may be a mutant, but I still have feelings,” Panur countered. “Lila is still the clos
est I have to an equal. I could never forget her.”

  “What about that monstrosity you created…J’nae?” asked Riyad. “The last thing I saw the two of you were all buddy-buddy.”

  “Please watch your tone, Mr. Tarazi. She is here with me.”

  Sherri’s jaw drop opened while Riyad gnashed his teeth. “You brought that thing into the Milky Way? I don’t know what to say,” Riyad growled.

  “Relax, friends, she is completely rehabilitated and now on our side.”

  “I didn’t know we had a side,” Sherri said when the shock subsided.

  “Indeed we do. We are here to help recover Lila, yet I must admit, I’m at a loss as to what happened to her. All I’ve been able to discern is that she was taken from her chambers. What—and who—could have done this is the mystery. It is obviously something of which even I am unaware.”

  When neither Sherri nor Riyad spoke, Panur leaned in closer, his dark eyes seeming to reach through the screen and into the room where they sat. “Are you going to allow me aboard your ship, or will I have to take matters into my own hands?”

  Riyad turned back to Captain Davy.

  Davy shrugged. “From what I’ve heard of him, he’s coming aboard whether we invite him or not.”

  Riyad looked back at Panur and nodded.

  “That’s better. Oh, and from the outcome of your recent skirmish, it looks like you could use my help.”

  ********

  The Pegasus II was given permission to enter docking bay three, which was cleared of other vessels and locked down from the rest of the ship. Once the large hangar doors closed and the atmosphere returned, Sherri, Riyad and Captain Davy entered the huge chamber, dressed in thick coats to protect against the lingering cold of outer space.

  The hatch cracked and cycled open. Panur was there, all four-foot-six-inches of him. Behind the mutant stood another creature, over seven-feet-tall, with an oblong face, scaly light yellow skin and shoulder-length yellow hair. This was J’nae, an experimental creation of the mutant Panur and the former Queen of the ravenous, flesh-eating Sol-Kor. Her expression conveyed contempt for the Humans, making Sherri doubt Panur’s assertion that they were now all on the same team.