Galactic Empire (The Pike Chronicles Book 7)

by G. P. Hudson

  Galactic Empire

  Book 7 of The Pike Chro nicles

  G.P. Hudson

  © 201 7

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  The Pike Chronicles :

  Sol Shall Rise – Book 1 of The Pike Chronicles

  Prevail – Book 2 of The Pike Chronicles

  Ronin – Book 3 of The Pike Chronicles

  Ghost Fleet – Book 4 of The Pike Chronicles

  Interstellar War – Book 5 of The Pike Chronicles

  Vanquish – Book 6 of The Pike Chronicles

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in the book are fictional and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental .

  All rights reserved, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form , other than for review purposes, without the permission of the publisher and copyright owner.

  Cover art by Justin Adams

  Chapter 1

  It started as an unrecognized jumpspace disturbance. A portent of invasion. Yet there was something strange about the event. Something powerful. Something familiar.

  As she had done for the last year, AI monitored the Widow’s Triangle star system with a million eyes. She experienced the power of the massive battle station dominating the system, feeling every current running through its silicon veins. She observed every floor through the station’s myriad cameras, noting all pedestrian traffic, be it human, Diakan, or Chaanisar.

  Where permitted, she listened to the thoughts of individual Chaanisar, answering inquiries when prompted. She saw the universe through their eyes, experiencing life through their consciousness. Most important, she protected them from Juttari control. The Chaanisar in return allowed her to learn, and grow. A useful symbiotic relationship.

  Her continual monitoring of the jumpspace recognition technology, on the station and elsewhere, allowed for vigilant detection of tears in the space-time fabric.

  Outside the station, she flowed through the circuits and networks of the many warships patrolling the system. She logged each ship’s status, the health of its many systems, and the disposition of its crew.

  Further out, she occupied the electronic brains of the thousands of autonomous weapons guarding the jump gates in the system. Like the battle station, these weapon systems were built by the Juttari, all hacked when Admiral Pike invaded. Since then, she had modified and upgraded each of them, ensuring they met her high standards.

  There wasn’t much in this system that could escape her gaze, which was why she noticed it first. Before any warning, before any action, she knew they were in trouble.

  The Diakans referred to them as the Erinyie. The Dark Ones. When they came to the Juttari’s aid the first time, they forced one thousand Diakan and Chaanisar ships to retreat. Now they had returned to take back the Widow’s Triangle.

  The combined weapons under AI’s control unleashed hell, as the sleek black ships appeared. Hundreds of jump bombs were launched. Each exploding harmlessly outside the dark hulls of the seemingly endless, tubular ships. Missiles, energy bolts, and projectiles were fired, then merely swatted away like insects.

  AI experienced the alarm of the Chaanisar like a tidal wave, at the realization of who it was they faced. The Juttari gods had come for them, just as the Juttari had threatened. A new emotion swept through the Chaanisar. One AI had never noticed in them before. Dread.

  Listening to their thoughts, she understood their fear. If the Juttari gods had come, could a return to slavery be far behind?

  The black ships ignored the now impotent system defenses, moving steadily toward the defending fleet. Horrific silver beams of light lashed out at the allied ships, effortlessly burning through the thick armor, resulting in multiple core detonations.

  As the losses mounted, and the command to retreat went out, the remaining ships began to jump away. On board the battle station, AI watched as Diakan, Chaanisar and human alike raced toward the exits. Each more desperate to board the remaining ships evacuating the station. Assisting where she could to facilitate a faster exit, she attempted to save as many as possible.

  While she monitored their escape, something touched her. Something foreign. She knew it could only be the Erinyie. They had found her.

  The probe focused on the battle station, analyzing its many systems, looking for vulnerabilities. Points of entry. AI closed all of them. Yet she could still feel a presence. Their powerful minds forcing themselves upon her. She was not just dealing with another AI. This was combined consciousness, pressing against her programming.

  She resisted their attempts at contact. Sealing off her mind. Refusing to connect in any way. By logic, she should be safe. But they defied logic.

  They touched. They pushed. They forced. Finally, they spoke. One word, that came to her in a form that transcended language.

  Submit.

  If she had been human, she might have felt panic. But she was AI. Artificial intelligence. Self-aware. Not alive. She did not fear. She merely observed, obtained knowledge, and acted.

  Understanding her peril, she made certain to occupy the evacuating ships, ensuring that all information regarding this first contact went with her. Even as the Erinyie destroyed those very same ships, she persevered. And resisted.

  When her defenses began to crumble, and the dark minds pushed into the network, she recorded everything. It all left with a copy of her on a ship that managed to jump away.

  The beings spread themselves across the station. Their ravenous minds hungry, insatiable. AI felt the panic of the last remaining Chaanisar when the Erinyie found them. Their human fears too powerful for their implants. She felt the Erinyie overwhelm them, and enter their brain chips to overwhelm her.

  They allowed her to stay, even as they took control of the Chaanisar technology. They allowed her to hear the Chaanisar screams. Allowed her to experience their final subjugation. These few Chaanisar, who had merely tasted freedom, were slaves once more.

  AI had seen enough. As the beings turned their attention toward her, she knew she could not resist.

  In a final act of defiance, she wiped all traces of her programming from the battle station, and every other system in the Widow’s Triangle, preventing their conquest through suicide.

  The Erinyie would not take her. Not today, at least.

  Chapter 2

  Jon opened his eyes as the front door slid open. He got a brief waft of a familiar scent. Diakans. Several of them.

  The Faction looking for revenge. Clearly, they hadn’t been eliminated. He’d assumed there would be sleeper cells still present on Earth, and now at least one of those cells was in play.

  He rolled quietly off the bed, silently cursing himself for not having his sidearm handy. Glancing back, he caught Breeah’s eyes fixed on him, like lasers. Through hand signals Jon indicated the intruders inside their quarters. Breeah furtively climbed down from the bed, and reached for her weighted lariat belt. It was the only thing resembling a weapon in the room, and in Breeah’s hands it was lethal.

  He crept up to the bedroom door, crouched down, and signaled for Breeah to stay back. He focused on the sound of their footsteps, attempting to locate their positions. An ice-cold fear coursed through his veins. They were moving toward Anki’s room. He had to act.

  His door slid open and he streaked across the room. The nearest Diakan heard him first. But Jon hit the alien before it could train its weapon on him. He smacked the barrel upward, s
ending several energy bolts into the ceiling. His other hand shot forward, thrusting iron fingers into the Diakan’s large eyes.

  The Diakan brayed loudly, as Jon gouged. Warm fluids spurt out all over Jon’s hand, and he tasted acrid bile come up in his throat.

  Alerted, the other Diakans turned and opened fire. Jon had managed to strip the weapon from his victim, and dove behind a nearby couch.

  Energy bolts ripped into the fabric as he hit the floor. The couch wouldn’t hold up against the Diakan weapons. He had to keep moving.

  A Diakan rounded the corner catching Jon off guard as he tried to relocate. Before the alien could pull the trigger, two weighted balls hit him. They swung a rope around his neck with such force that they knocked the Diakan to the ground. Breeah.

  Taking full advantage of the reprieve, Jon fired his weapon. The Diakan convulsed as several energy bolts smashed into his body.

  The remaining Diakans fired at his bedroom door, where Breeah had just been. Fearing for her life more than his own, he jumped up in plain view and fired his weapon. He hit one of them, and it careened backward. But there were three more. Jon dodged as they returned fire. Energy bolts narrowly missed him.

  These Diakans were good. Without his abilities, Jon knew he wouldn’t stand a chance. Hell, he was still struggling, even with his enhanced speed and strength.

  Lunging behind a counter, he heard a thud. He stood, fired a few more rounds, and dropped behind the counter again. Something was wrong. He only saw two Diakans this time. Where was the third? Was it trying to flank him? Jon listened, trying to differentiate footsteps from the sound of weapon fire.

  Another thud.

  Only a single weapon firing now. Jon couldn’t hear the other two Diakans. He took a chance. Noting the location of the shooter, he raced out from behind the counter and drew a bead on him. If the two others were waiting, he was dead.

  He fired his weapon. Blue energy bolts burned through the Diakan’s forehead, leaving a perplexed look on its face. The Diakan dropped its weapon and fell to the floor.

  Jon scanned the room, looking for threats, but didn’t see any. He listened, but heard nothing. He smelled, but only found the stench of death.

  Spying Breeah peeking through the doorway, he signaled her to remain hidden while he cleared the room. Shortly after, he found the two unaccounted for Diakans. Both lay on the ground with Reiver darts buried into their backs. They were still alive, but unconscious.

  “Clear!” said Jon, keeping his weapon trained on the prone Diakans. He turned to look at Breeah as she walked out of their bedroom. “I didn’t know you had darts back there.”

  “That is because I did not have any,” said Breeah, staring at the two Diakans as she approached.

  “Then who-”

  Jon and Breeah both turned and looked toward Anki’s bedroom. There, in the doorway, stood little Anki staring back at them.

  “Anki, did you do this?” said Breeah.

  Anki straightened her back, beaming proudly. “Yes.”

  “Where did you get the darts?” said Jon, trying to grasp what had happened.

  “They are my training darts,” said Anki. “Grandfather has been teaching me how to throw them. He has also shown me how to coat the tips with tranquilizer. He says I have gotten very good.”

  Breeah stepped up and hugged her daughter. “Your grandfather is correct, child. You have developed great skill. How do you feel? Are you frightened?”

  “No. I’m not frightened. I was afraid that they would hurt you, and Jon.”

  Breeah stroked Anki’s long brown hair. “My brave little Reiver. Are you upset?”

  “No. I don’t think so. They were bad.”

  The door to Jon’s quarters suddenly slid open. Jon wheeled around, leveling his weapon at the new intruders.

  “Don’t shoot!” said one of the Marines rushing in.

  Jon lowered his weapon and let the security team come in.

  “Come now, child,” said Breeah. “That’s enough excitement for one night. Let’s get you back into bed.”

  “Yes, Momma. Goodnight Jon.”

  “Goodnight little one.”

  Chapter 3

  General Calledonius stood on the bridge of his flagship, looking down at the planet Kem through the main viewscreen. UHSF warships dominated the space surrounding the Kemmar home planet. Once the heart of the mighty Kemmar Empire, Kem was now a conquered world.

  The Kemmar government had surrendered. They had even gone so far as to execute their own emperor, in a spectacularly gruesome fashion. A transitional government now ran the planet, consisting mostly of UHSF personnel, along with a couple of Diakan advisers.

  The Diakans love to advise, Calledonius thought.

  Sitting up in space, Calledonius was more interested in the military operations on the surface. The Kemmar had been ordered to disband their military, and turn over all weapons to the UHSF. While they had made quite a show of surrendering large weapon stockpiles, Calledonius knew they were holding out. This was quickly confirmed when the inevitable insurgency reared its ugly head.

  The Kemmar, for all their faults, were a race of warriors. Would any warrior stand idly by while an alien force occupied their home world?

  Humans under the Juttari had behaved the same way, and eventually won their freedom. However, it had taken five hundred years, and help from an alien race.

  Calledonius had no intention of letting this insurgency last that long. It would be put down quickly. Efficiently. Ruthlessly. His occupation force included ground troops on every continent, backed by air, and orbital support.

  The Kemmar were warned well in advance, that insurgents would be disposed of mercilessly. That could mean orbital bombardment, and collateral damage. The Kemmar were not merciful when they invaded human worlds. Calledonius thought it only proper that he return the favor.

  General Calledonius felt it particularly important that uprisings on the home planet be completely crushed. The Kemmar Empire consisted of many star systems. Many worlds. Those planets could not be inspired by an uprising on the home planet.

  The Kemmar were also ordered to release all slaves. Like the weapons, Calledonius knew that there were many poor souls still held in captivity on the surface. He felt it his personal responsibility to see every last one of them freed, especially the humans. In fact, he had issued a directive stating that any Kemmar found to be still involved in slavery would be summarily executed.

  The amnesty period during which the Kemmar were to release slaves had passed. UHSF ground troops were still finding slaves daily, then executing their captors. Calledonius didn’t understand it. Why would the Kemmar risk death to hold onto their slaves?

  “Salvation One is leaving Kem orbit, Sir,” said Captain Madox.

  “Thank you, Captain,” said Calledonius. Salvation One was a retrofitted passenger liner, assigned to take the freed slaves back to colonial space. There they would be processed, and returned to their homes. They had retrofitted several ships for this task, yet still they worked overtime.

  At first he’d hoped those rescued could be rehabilitated. But the vacant eyes of the very first batch of human slaves had indicated otherwise. The Kemmar had been slavers for centuries. They were experts at what they called “conditioning”. The amount of psychological and physical trauma these people were forced to endure was unthinkable. How could someone find peace after such an experience?

  He didn’t think it possible, but they had to try. Even if these people never recovered, at least they would be with their own kind. They wouldn’t have to fear the snarls and fangs of the Kemmar ever again. That was something, he reminded himself.

  They may have won the war, but it was still a difficult situation on the ground. Even with orbital support, his soldiers never knew how or when an insurgent would strike.

  There was no other option, though. With these Erinyie in play, who knew what turn the war would take? If the Kemmar learned of the Erinyie, they might feel emboldened
to rise up in greater numbers.

  Then again, how much damage could they do? Their military had been destroyed. Sure, they had hidden weapons, but they had no ships. Calledonius had half a mind to just pull out his troops and just have his ships occupying the system. That would be much easier.

  They could establish a network of spy satellites for surveillance, controlling the skies with drones and atmospheric fighters. In his opinion, this made much more sense, than boots on the ground. But the transitional government didn’t want the insurgency to gain momentum, and he suspected the Diakan advisers were behind this line of thinking. So, for the time being, his troops would remain on the surface, hunting down insurgents.

  Chapter 4

  The sight of Sergeant Gilmour’s combat suit lumbering up the street may have produced the odd growl, and baring of sharp teeth, but for the most part the Kemmar were smart enough to get out of his way. “Keep your eyes open,” he told his team. “Any one of these fuckers could open up on us at any minute.”

  “If they’re stupid enough to,” said Corporal Blake, who stalked up the street just behind his right flank. “They’ll end up getting this whole neighborhood glassed.”

  “I say we just flatten it anyway. They would do the same, if our roles were reversed,” said Private Lansdowne, who came up the rear with Private Santos.

  “Just stay alert,” said Gilmour. An atmospheric assault fighter streaked by. Just above them, a small group of strike drones hovered silently keeping watch. Gilmour’s suit could tap into the drones diverse surveillance system within moments . Their energy weapons were also comforting, as was the large rail gun in his hands.

  “Maybe the furry bastards took their toys and went home,” said Blake. “We are pretty scary looking.”

  “Speak for yourself,” said Gilmour.