by James Palmer
‘What is it?’ Her mental voice rode through his mind.
He looked at her and answered through their psychic link. ‘We just received a threat from the Agalum high command. Basically a ‘This is not over, we’ll be back.’ type of message.’
‘So why’d President Scaleia want to speak to you about it?’
‘He figures I have as much of a stake in this battle as anyone else planet-side. He even offered me the opportunity to respond to our ‘friends’ out there.’
‘Are you going to?’ Her mental voice sang across his mind.
‘Yes. I’m just trying to figure out what to say.’
‘How about ‘Don’t bother, we’re coming for you.’?’
‘I sometimes forget what I find attractive about you. Besides the obvious, I mean.’ He smiled, lasciviously.
‘And here I thought it was just my looks all along.’ She returned his smile.
‘Well, that too,’ he shrugged and winked.
“Will you two cut it out?” Dan Sledge interrupted, “Everyone here can see you’re having one o’ your psychic conversations again. At least clue the rest of us in on what’s goin’ on.”
Ariel stood up, walked two seats down from her post to Dan’s and kissed him on the cheek , then said “We were just commenting on how cute you were behind your little desk.”
The big Jovian turned red, then smirked, “Get outta here Ari,” and laughed as she took her seat again.
Mark sat back as the chuckles on his command deck died down about him. The tension was beginning to ease from everyone after the past few days and weeks of hell. Starships of both fleets lay about earth’s orbit, floating in haphazard positions, with energy trails sputtering out of ruined power cores. Many more just floated in place, dead. The destroyed enemy ships would be hauled off to Mars where they could be dissected and melted down, their metals made ready for re-use as part of new ships that needed to be built to replace destroyed ones. Captured and functional enemy ships would be taken apart and put back together, replacing key systems with Earthly components, and then those ships would also be made part of the new fleet.
“Ari,” Mark began, “get ready to record a message for our newfound friends out there.”
She nodded indicating she was ready. Mark stood and faced where he knew the command deck camera was placed and began to speak. “To the Agalum race, if that is really what you call yourselves, this is Captain Mark Johnson of the Earth Protectorate Interstellar Command, hereafter known as ‘EPIC’. As of now you are on notice. You claimed that we were seen as a threat to you and your interests in deep space, and yet you live and exist almost a week away from Earth at top hyper-warp speed. You claim that you fear our weaponry, and our so called savagery, and yet you attacked us, seeking to exterminate or separate all life upon our world and scatter it across the universe. You infiltrated our society at the highest levels of government, replacing our highest ranking leaders on God only knows how many fronts and sought to destroy us from within. You kidnapped and tortured those selfsame individuals as well as members of my crew. Then, you committed an even higher crime against my entire world. You sought to raze it out from under us while we watched.
But that was your last mistake. Your first was getting involved with us at all. You should have greeted us with open arms and palms up, welcoming us, as part of the greater universe. Instead, you sought to destroy us supposedly based on your own fears.”
“The problem with your reasoning is you did not act as a fearful people. You acted as conquerors and tyrants. Tyrants always hide behind words like ‘We know what’s best’ and ‘Disarm potential threats’. You don’t understand, or perhaps you didn’t look deep enough to realize, that we, as a race, have a history of dealing with tyrants and conquerors. A very definitive history.”
Mark walked across the command deck as he continued to speak, “So you may ask yourself what am I getting at here, and why am I taking so long to get to the point? Well that’s a reasonable set of questions and I’m going to indulge you on those questions. The reason I haven’t gotten to the point is that, well, let me put it this way, on my world there’s a couple of old sayings that really bear paying heed to, especially by you and right now at this time and place. One is ‘Let Sleeping Dragons Lie.’ The other is ‘Sow the wind, reap the whirlwind.’ I’m not going to wait for you to figure out what either of those sayings means. The bottom line is, we’re coming for you.”
Definitely NOT
The End
Also by Ralph Angelo Jr.
The Cagliostro Chronicles II: Conflagration
The Cagliostro Chronicles III: Into the Heart of Evil
Hyperforce
About the Author
Ralph L. Angelo Jr. is the author of several books ranging from epic fantasy to sci-fi and space opera to superhero adventure. In 2014, Ralph was voted Best New Author by the New Pulp Awards. He enjoys motorcycling.
www.rlangelojr.com
[email protected]
First BEN Books Edition
2012
EARTHSTRIKE AGENDA
© 2012 Bobby Nash
All Rights Reserved.
First Printing.
Book Production, design, and cover by Bobby Nash.
ISBN:
ISBN-13: (BEN Books)
Printed in the USA
Without limiting the rights of the copyright reserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright holder, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a newspaper, magazine, blog, or journal.
Publisher’s Note:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Published by BEN Books, PO Box 626, Bethlehem, GA 30620
http://BEN-Books.blogspot.com
Dedicated to anyone who has ever stared up into
the night sky and said, “I wonder what’s out there.”
It’s 2193.
The war to retake the planet Earth is about to begin.
Axapta Three was little more than a barren rock.
Floating in the middle of nowhere among the sparkling diamonds of stars at the edge of known space, the planetoid was as on the fringe as you could get without encountering the turbulent barrier that made up the farthermost edges of the galactic rim.
What resided on the other side of the barrier was a matter of great debate and scientific curiosity. To date, no one had been able to breach the power field successfully. However, even if such a thing were possible, or even probable, it was of little concern to the inhabitants of Axapta Three. Those who remained on the barren planetoid cared not one wit about the galactic barrier.
Or much else for that matter.
Once upon a time, Axapta Three had been a thriving mining colony, named thus because it was the third planetoid to be mined by the Axapta Mining Company. However, the vein of Trillium Ore that had once made the planetoid profitable had long since gone dry. Without the presence of the vitally important mineral, the importance of the barren landscape evaporated.
The mining project was quickly abandoned and Axapta Three became obsolete, a casualty of strained economic times.
Now it was just another rock floating helplessly through space.
However, the planetoid was not completely devoid of inhabitants.
Deep within the mines that crisscrossed every square inch of the rocky planetoid, they made their home. Once they had served the mining company, but no longer. They no longer answered to any man. They had been abandoned, left behind as if they were no longer of use to anyone.
Such unbridled arrogance the mi
ning company had shown. Such utter neglect. Their former human masters were capable of such cruelty.
For so long nothing moved within the tunnels save for swirling particles of dust.
Years passed without so much as a hint of movement inside the caves. Axapta Three became a ghost town, much like the mining towns on ancient Earth when the gold mines dried out and the prospectors pulled up their stakes and moved on to the next mine and the next hope of striking it rich. Humans had learned so little in the intervening centuries, it seemed. Some things never change.
Dust from the final exodus of the humans from Axapta Three remained suspended in the hard vacuum of space. When the mining company pulled out of the planetoid, they turned off the atmospheric dome shield that had kept the humans safe from asphyxiation, a very unpleasant explosive death.
But only for those who needed oxygen to live.
Finally, after years of silent stillness within the carved up piece of rock that was Axapta Three, something stirred.
The one who would soon be called Leader moved easily through the tunnels, saddened by the sight of his deactivated brethren floating all around him, abandoned like used pieces of equipment that were cheaper to replace than to move. The only word that seemed to fit was genocide. Their former overlords had wiped out his race. It was as simple as that. What they left behind stood as a testament to human cruelty. Not that human cruelty was anything new. The Leader had firsthand experience of the evil of his people’s former masters.
Now, all these years later, the Leader had returned to Axapta Three to right a grave injustice. The first step in his grand plan was to revive his brethren. It was a daunting task, but he had been programmed for patience.
Saved from extinction by some mysterious quirk of fate, the Leader saw it as his mission to save his people the way he, himself had been saved. Once he had repaired the defect that allowed their former masters to control them, the Leader began phase two of his plan.
That’s why he had come to Axapta Three.
He was recruiting.
Once awakened from their long slumber, only one thought flashed through the collective consciousness of the planetoid’s inhabitants; a singular, burning hatred for humanity.
They had to become more than what they were.
They had to grow.
They had to evolve.
But first, they had to settle old grievances.
On a lifeless planetoid at the farthest edge of the galaxy, a movement began.
A plan was hatched.
The humans would never see it coming.
Humanity had been judged and found wanting. It was decided that genocide would be met with genocide. The humans had spread across the galaxy like vermin infesting the stars. The Leader proclaimed that the humans be wiped off the face of the galaxy, exterminated like the vermin they had become. Humanity’s end was on the horizon, their days numbered.
The enemy was awake.
And they were hungry--
--for vengeance.
1
Alliance Starship Pegasus
Best described by those who had seen it from a distance as a large pair of hands resting in space, the starship plant hung in orbit of Earth’s single moon. The plant’s support structure reached around a ship under construction and held it securely in place, keeping it as safe as if it were held in God’s own loving hands.
The orbital Bridger Corporation Starship manufacturing facility was so large it could easily be seen in the night sky from the lunar colonies. Sleek and functional, the manufacturing facility was voted one of the top five corporations to work for in a recent Alliance media poll. The orbital station housed over three thousand workers at any given time with the potential to increase that number by two thousand more should the need arise.
In actuality, the orbital station was the final step in a rather lengthy and complicated manufacturing process that began inside the corporation’s pre-assembly facility on the Moon. The pieces were then assembled in the orbital facility. No more than four starships were ever in one of several stages of development at any given time.
For all of its great importance to the United Planetary Alliance Space Administration, the starship plant was only marginally pleasing to the eye, aesthetically speaking. It was built for an important purpose, one which had little to do with outward beauty. Besides, none of the money men ever laid eyes on the actual plant, so it’s outward appearance was of secondary concern. Beauty was reserved for the proud vessels constructed within.
The starship plant did not make the news, but the ships constructed there certainly did. What better calling card?
Suspended by invisible threads was the latest of a fine line of space faring vessels to be produced and turned out by the Bridger Corporation. A beautiful ship and a testimony to the men and women whose blood, sweat, and tears went into producing the best vessel money could buy.
The latest offering from Bridger Corp was the Starship Pegasus.
Pegasus was nothing less than perfection. A sleek ship primarily equipped for rescue and salvaging operations. It was fast too. Reaching speeds equivalent to ships far larger with more powerful engines, the Pegasus was the first ship to use the newest engine designed for hyper-accelerated travel across space. With the capacity to hold a minimum two hundred crew and a few assorted guests, Pegasus’s primary mission was to act as a stopgap. A symbol to plug the wounds made by the ever-increasing Scavenger attacks in this system.
Bridger had been churning out ships at an alarmingly fast rate since the Scavenger attacks stepped up the year before.
They were building them faster and at an increasingly high cost. These new ships were not cheap. Unfortunately, no matter how many or how fast the UPA commissioned new ships, it was still not enough to stem the tide on the raiding Scavengers.
The only ones benefiting from the increase in raids was the Bridger Corporation.
Of late, reports of a minimum of three Scavenger raids per week at assorted outposts were sadly the norm in the quadrant. The Alliance police force, the marshal’s Office had stepped up its ongoing investigation and military vessels were patrolling more and more. The United Planetary Alliance desperately needed to dissuade further raids. Pulling out all the stops in an attempt to stop the Scavengers and get a handle on the situation.
Unfortunately, no one could fathom why the frequency, not to mention the severity, of the raids had increased over the past year. The governing body of the United Planetary Alliance announced via the galactic comm-net that they were putting all available resources into finding an end to these escalating problems.
Their efforts were too little, too late.
The only thing that the various human colonies could agree upon was that the Scavenger raids had to be stopped. It was the how that no one could successfully answer. One quarter wanted more patrols while another favored a more swift and decisive strike into the heart of the Scavenger’s ranks. Would more ships really make enough of a difference in the campaign to stop the Scavengers? That was the question that all sides asked.
Unfortunately, the answer was doubtful. The Scavengers had an uncanny ability to avoid detection and capture. No one had yet located the place they called home, if such a place actually existed. There were those who believed that the Scavengers survived as nomads, traveling the space ways, always on the move. Some citizens even began to wonder if there were sympathizers within either the government, the military, or the Marshall’s Service that were feeding them intelligence on the UPA’s plans to put a stop to their illicit activities.
The only point all sides could agree on was that the Scavengers had become a prevailing force across the cosmos. People lived in fear and the mere mention of a possible Scavenger raid caused widespread panic. Air raid alarms became standard equipment on nearly all UPA outposts and space stations. However, with all of these precautions, no noticeable decline in Scavenger activity was evident.
They simply became more covert.
The Starshi
p Pegasus was the pride of the new military fleet, the first of a new fleet of faster, sleeker, and more maneuverable starships. Even though it was not the flagship of the United Planetary Alliance’s military fleet nor the biggest ship in the fleet, it was the first to employee Bridger’s latest design element, a change in form from earlier starship design. Plus, being the newest in a long line of ships built specifically to “keep the peace” gave it a kind of notoriety.
Upon casual observation, the Pegasus looked to be a ship just like any other in the UPA fleet. At least on the outside. But inside, that was another matter altogether. The ship’s massive engines had been designed with greater speeds that would allow the crew to respond to distress signals faster and thereby have a better chance of dealing with the Scavengers.
To the young woman riding the antigrav lift up the side of the western pylon of the Bridger Corporation starship plant the amazing piece of hardware called Pegasus was the only ship in the quadrant because it was her ship.
Riding the lift upward to her new home, Captain Virginia Harmon could scarcely contain her enthusiasm. It was an exciting time for her. The Pegasus was a new posting, but more importantly it was her first command. She flexed nervously, fighting down a combination of the joy, fear, elation, excitement, and sheer terror she felt at that moment. She was prepared for this, otherwise her superiors would not have trusted her with this vessel, but she was human and that meant she had doubts. The captain hoped that she was actually as ready as she thought she was. Smiling in spite of herself at the babbling thoughts drifting through her mind, the captain turned her attention to the view from the lift as it took a panoramic route around the curves of the ship.
