Human Chronicles Part 2 Book 3: A Galaxy to Conquer (14 page)

Chapter 21

A
dam was upset to see that John’s body had been removed by the Kracori before he’d had a chance at one more look upon his friend, teammate and brother-in-arms. He had played the Kracori as best he could, yet the tragic death of John Tindal was still only minutes old at the time of the meeting. It was all he could do at the time to remain in control of his emotions, especially when the subject of Nigel McCarthy came up.

Once back in the cell, Adam quickly updated the remaining sad and stern-faced Humans in the cell. They would have a few more days—at the most—to devise another escape plan. Fortunately, Nigel McCarthy would be gone off-planet, so it would only be Kracori perceptions and precautions they would have to contend with. But now the Kracori were even more on guard, and the Langril—Nomar something or another—wasn’t going to let them get away with any sort of overt disobedience. The other, older Kracori was chomping at the bit to take a blade to them all. So whatever plan they did come up they’d only have one chance to pull it off. Succeed ... or die.

Ain’t that how it always worked when it came to SEALs and their missions?

Master Chief Rutledge was especially distraught over Tindal’s death. They had shared a special bond, that of musicians and performers, as well as many more recent years together during a more tranquil time in their lives of challenge and adventure. The good thing about the Chief’s current emotional state: it made him even more focused on escaping. Adam had seen the old sailor operate for years, and he knew Rutledge didn’t let events control him;
he
controlled events. And he was even more determined than ever to control his way right off the planet Elision—and in pursuit of Nigel McCarthy.

Adam would do his best to channel all that anger and determination Rutledge carried in him to the benefit of the team. They all would. John Tindal—as well as Lee Schwartz and Jamal Dawson—would be avenged, one way or another.

The most-immediate good that came out of Adam’s meeting with the Kracori was that an ample supply of food and drink was brought to the cell. It seemed that the aliens wanted to make sure Adam and the rest of the Humans lived long enough so they could be killed. The irony was obvious, as was the improving condition of Riyad Tarazi once he got some food in his belly.

“Look at you,” Adam exclaimed. “You’re standing about as well as a drunken sailor trying to cross the quarterdeck after a night on the town. Congratulations.”

“You may rescind that compliment if I throw up on you.”

Adam smiled. “No shit! That’s one thing I cannot tolerate.” He looked over a Chief Rutledge and sent him a wink.

“That was a very long time ago, Mr. Cain.” Rutledge said, doing his best to join in the light banter. “And it was long before I had to call you
Mister!
”

“I should be fine,” Riyad said unconvincingly as he took a few steps across the room and back. “Just give me an hour or two to get my strength back and I won’t need that fucking wheelchair anymore.”

“That’s encouraging, Riyad,” Admiral Tobias said. Other than Riyad with his wheelchair, the other three Humans sat on the floor of the cell, leaning against the hard concrete walls. The Kracori had yet to replace their disassembled cots so they had nowhere else to sit. Tobias shifted his attention to Adam. “I assume the Kracori will want to give you—and maybe the rest of us—some other vantage point to the coming battle other than what we have here. Sounds like they want to humiliate us with their decisive victory over the Juireans.”

“That means moving us from the cell, I was thinking that, too, Admiral. Where and when is the question? And I’ll do my best to make sure the rest of you come with me.”

“We’ll have to be ready to react to the moment. There won’t be many, and the window of opportunity will close quickly.”

“I’ll be ready,” Riyad said. He was walking a little more confidently, with no apparent injuries to his legs or arms.

“I never thought I’d hear myself say this, but I hope the Juireans get in here and start kicking ass,” the Master Chief said. “Nothing like a bunch of exploding munitions to distract the guards around you. That’s basic
Get-The-Fuck-Outta-Here 101
.”

“Exactly,” Adam said. “But it sounds like the Kracori are prepared for whatever the Juireans throw against them, and we have Kroekus to thank for that!”

“Just goes to show that the political ramifications of all this are more complicated than what we simple foot-soldiers can fathom,” Tobias said, with everyone in the room knowing that he had done his share of politicking as a consequence of his flag rank.

Riyad had done about as much exercise as he could handle for the time being and sat back in his wheelchair. “And what of our fleet? What do you think they’ll do if they see the Juireans getting their asses handed to them?”

Adam smiled again at his friend. Even though he had been born in Lebanon, he had spent enough time in America and around Americans to learn to speak like a native, crude trash talking and all.

“I don’t think we can count on them stepping in to help the Juireans,” Adam said. “No matter what the Kracori think, they’re still going to take a beating. That’s what our fleet is counting on; let the two alien races slug it out. The Kracori may emerge with fewer casualties, yet every little bit will help. Unfortunately, I don’t think that older Kracori fucker is going to let us slide any longer than the first decisive Juirean-Kracori dustup. I’ll try to get them to use us as a deterrent to a Human attack, but I don’t think they’ll fall for it. We’re just too insignificant.”

“Speak for yourself, Mr. Cain,” Admiral Tobias said with a smile. “I know that I’m a
Legend
—in my own mind!”

“You are in our minds, too, Andy,” Adam said as he shuffled over to Riyad’s chair on his hands and knees. “And now that it looks like Riyad won’t be needing this anymore, let’s see if we can break out some of these spokes? They’ll be easier to conceal and can still cause a fair amount of damage if we find a soft spot in that tough Kracori skin.”

“Glad to see it’s back,” Riyad said, “that old Adam Cain can-do spirit. I feel more confident about our chances already.”

Chapter 22

“I
t
won’t work, I keep telling you that!” Kaylor was saying, again. “There’s no way of controlling it, and besides, they will not let us sweep over the city, not with the Juireans so close.”

“But I’ve seen the effects,” Sherri countered. “And we’ve done it before—or Adam and Riyad have—on that planet Yaki, or Yikke … something like that.”

Ruszel had been made part of their strategizing session, not because of a willingness on his part to help, but as a way of using his instinctive need for survival to force his input. As a skilled pilot, with knowledge of local space, his contribution was invaluable, if only to point out what couldn’t be done.

Yet at the time, it was Kaylor who Sherri had to convince.

“The
Pegasus
has a more-focused gravitational influence. I’m saying we could sweep in over that facility where they’re probably holding them and let the
well
rip things apart. That could be the distraction they need to escape.”

“You could end up killing them, too,” Kaylor said. “And once we get blown out of the air, how will that help, well, any of us?”

“The Belsonian is correct,” Ruszel joined in. “All that you’ll accomplish is our own deaths.”

Sherri looked the green-skinned alien in the eye. “You know what these concentrated-array ships are capable of—you own one. We can outrun anything they have on Elision. And I’m not saying we drop down from orbit like a banshee, trailing a plume of fire behind us. We get down to the surface first—somehow—scope out the area, and then take off and do a low gravity run over the target.”

“What is a
banshee
?” Ruszel asked; soon all the other alien eyes zeroed in on her with inquisitive expressions.

She shook her head with impatience. “Never fucking mind. It’s a goddamn animal. That’s not the point. We four of us are equipped with ATD’s. When we get to the surface, we can disrupt all kinds of electronics, and may even be able to locate the team before we move. The Kracori use flash weapons exclusively, as far as I know. We can handle those kinds of weapons close-in.”

Ruszel was physically agitated. “I understand you intend on taking me with you on your suicidal mission, so I have a vested interest in knowing what you are talking about. What is an A-T-D?”

“I’ll show you,” Sherri said. She pulled out her MK-17 bolt launcher and set it on the table in front of Ruszel. “Pick it up and shoot me.”

The alien eyed the weapon with suspicion. “I will not! Is this some kind of trick?”

Trimen met the alien’s eye. “Do it. It will be fine.”

After receiving acknowledging nods from Jym and Kaylor, Ruszel snatched up the weapon and pointed it not only at Sherri but the others as well sitting at the table. He stood up and began to back away. “You are all truly insane. I do not wish to kill any of you, but I can no longer be part of this crazy talk about raiding Elision.”

“Don’t you think you should check the weapon before you go commandeering the ship,” Sherri said softly.

Ruszel hesitated, but then did a quick systems check of the MK. Everything appeared in order. “The targeting computer has already locked on to you, female. I can fire when I desire.”

“Then do it. Do it and the ship will be yours and you can go home to your billions of credits.”

Ruszel’s eyes narrowed and he jutted his pointy-tipped chin in Sherri’s direction. “Wait ... I have seen this before. Is this how you and your tiny companion were able to disable the weapons at my home?” he said addressing Kaylor. “This weapon will not fire, and that is why you have given it to me.”

“Not bad, Ruszel. You’re pretty quick,” Sherri said.

And then the door to the conference room suddenly opened and closed behind him, as the lights began to flicker on and off.

“How can you control such devices?”

“It’s not important for you to know how, just that we can. And when we’re on the surface of Elision, we can disable the flash weapons the Kracori bring against us.”

Ruszel said nothing as he placed the MK-17 back on the table.

“So you see, we have some extra skills that help make this plan a real possibility. Stick with us, Ruszel, and no flash weapon can harm you.”

“Hand weapons are one thing, but can you prevent us from taking a bolt to the side of the ship while we rip up the Kracori’s governmental headquarters building?”

He picked up on Sherri’s hesitation. “I didn’t think so. This is still a suicide mission, no matter what fancy tricks you can dazzle the Kracori with.”

“But you have to admit, it does improve our odds of winning.”

“And how is that so?”

Sherri looked around at the faces of the other three aliens in the room. They were now looking back at her, conveying nods and firm determination on their faces. Sherri grinned.

“It has brought all the rest of us together behind the plan.” She then followed up on Ruszel’s rhetorical question with an inquiry of her own. “With a team like this, how can we lose?”

After the meeting broke up, Trimen followed Sherri to her stateroom. The
Pegasus
only had two, and since she had boarded the ship, Kaylor had given up his to her. Ruszel was in the other, simply because he could be locked inside so he wouldn’t try anything stupid, like attempting to hijack the ship. After the recent demonstration of the ATD’s, Sherri was pretty sure he now saw the futility in any such effort.

Trimen said nothing during the short walk to her room, nor asked for permission as they both entered and he shut the door.

“What’s bothering you, Trimen,” Sherri asked, always slightly flushed when in close proximity to the incredibly virile alien. She had hoped their time together in the confined space of the escape pod would have cured her of her schoolgirl fascination, but it was obvious now that it hadn’t.

“I am not aware how Humans approach the planning for an operation such as we are contemplating,” he began, “but you do realize that ripping apart a building with a gravity drive, while trying to rescue beings from within that same building, is contradictory to the ultimate goal of said operation?”

Sherri had to laugh out loud at the rather formal and polite way Trimen had just told her that her plan was pure shit, from beginning to end. She was sure he was just being honest with his feelings and meant no insult, but he did recoil slightly from her chuckle.

“I will be the first to admit that it does seem a bit extreme,” she said with a grin. “But I had to say something to get the others onboard.”

“They are onboard ... but I doubt if they support your plan, especially the pilot Ruszel.”

“I meant onboard with the plan—supporting it.”

“Which I do not believe they do,” he reiterated.

Sherri could see the frustration on Trimen’s smooth, tanned face. “It was something I made up on the spur of the moment. I’m sure we can refine the plan so it makes more sense. And Trimen, I do understand that you are more important to your people than to run off on a possible suicide mission with me. I would have no problem letting you take the shuttle and get someplace safe.”

Sherri saw Trimen’s face now turn an even darker shade of brown. “When I volunteered for this rescue mission I fully intended on participating in its more dangerous aspects. Leaving McCarthy’s ship in the escape pod was simply an attempt not to waste my life—or yours—when nothing could be achieved by that loss of life. If I die while engaged in an activity linked directly to the rescue attempt, then that is perfectly acceptable, by me and those of the Order. My only question is whether your plan is the best use of our resources? Humans have much more experience with this sort of activity, yet I cannot ignore my logic and reason when I look dispassionately at the proposed operation.”

Indeed, Sherri had simply spouted out an idea without fully thinking it through. However, it was something, anything. Just voicing on option for saving her friends on Elision—no matter how improbable—made her feel better. It sure beat sitting around doing nothing.

When she didn’t respond to his last statement, Trimen continued. “And you propose reaching the surface of Elision with this ship. If that were a possibility, why did we not use it in the original plan, since it does possess superior speed? That was a rhetorical question. I know why: because the ship could not reach the surface without proper access codes. We still do not have those codes, and what codes we did have were destroyed with the Volseen ship.”

“You’re right,
Captain Obvious
!” Sherri said a little too loudly. Even though the reference was lost completely on the alien, she was growing frustrated with his lack of contribution to
solving
the problem. She knew the questions; what she needed were some answers. “So use that superior logic and reason to help me out. Come up with something we haven’t thought of before.”

Trimen was silent for a long moment, staring at Sherri with unblinking eyes. “The answer is obvious ... ah, I see the reference now!” He paused to gather his thoughts again before continuing: “We must abandon the team on Elision and return to Expansion space while we are still able.”

Sherri’s jaw dropped open. “That’s no solution!” she cried out. “That’s surrender—giving up—and I’m not about to do that. If no one will follow me, then I will drop you all off on the nearest rock somewhere and go do it myself!”

Just as Trimen was about to respond the intercom on the wall of the stateroom chimed. Trimen looked perturbed by the interruption, yet Sherri saw it as a blessing. He was probably about to say something that would only piss her off more.

“What is it?” Sherri barked into the box on the wall.

“It is Kaylor. Am I disturbing you?”

“No, sorry, just having a pointless conversation with Trimen. Do you also have a complaint about my plan? If so, then shove it!”

“Shove your plan ... or my complaint? I do not understand.”

Sherri placed her forehead against the bulkhead and began to bang it against the metal wall softly, yet repeatedly. After three hits she responded to Kaylor. “What did you call me for?”

“It is just that Ruszel appears to have solved our problem about getting the
Pegasus
to the surface of Elision.”

Sherri stood up straight and stared at Trimen. “Go ahead, tell me!”

“He said that during the time that Riyad was being removed from his ship—Riyad’s ship at the time, now Ruszel’s—the Kracori commander gave him his name and mentioned the superior nature of the ship’s energy signature. The pilot now proposes he contact this same Kracori, and now that Tel’or and the Kracori are allies, tell him that he has acquired one of these superior drive vessels for study as a possible breakthrough in Kracori gravity-drive technology.”

“He’s willing to do this? I thought he wasn’t taking sides?”

“He appears to have had a change of opinion. Of course, he may also be looking for a way to transfer to the custody of the Kracori rather than remain our prisoner. Yet if I were this Kracori officer, I would accept the gift of the
Pegasus
, and once we have access to Kracori airspace, then your plan might have merit.”

“Thank you very much for that, Kaylor,” Sherri said with heartfelt emotion; she glared at Trimen as she spoke the words. “We don’t have a lot of time, Kaylor. We’ll have to attempt to contact Elision right now. Will Ruszel do it?”

“He has indicated so. If this plan does work, we could be on the surface of Elision within a few hours. From our estimates, that should get us to the planet just as the Juirean fleet reaches the outer Nebula. That should add to the confusion we would be instigating on Elision.”

“Get Ruszel to the CW-comm room. I’m on my way.” She switched off the intercom and turned to face Trimen. “Well, are you in or out?”