Human Chronicles Part 2 Book 3: A Galaxy to Conquer (20 page)

********

Sherri unbuckled and jumped from her seat, grabbing various handholds to keep from sliding down the steep angle of the deck. She fought her way to the rear of the ship—to the airlock—and slapped the controls to open the hatch. She braced herself against a bulkhead and withdrew her weapon.

Her ATD provided her with a preview of what threats existed outside the ship, and while flash weapons were prevalent, none were moving in her direction. Understandably, there was mass confusion inside the building.

The warm air from outside swept into the airlock, filled with thick, choking dust. The swirling clouds outside made it difficult for her to see more than a few feet beyond the entry hatch, and she sheltered her eyes from the burning and stinging effects of the dust now entering the ship. She hesitated going outside.
Just give it a few seconds
, she thought.
Just a few more seconds….

********

In the relative reprieve from the more violent quaking, Adam took Riyad by the arm and began to pull him through the shattered remains of the building, climbing onto huge chunks of fallen concrete and steel supports. Like climbing blocks of a giant pyramid, they moved ever higher to what was now the new roof of the dome. Tobias and Rutledge helped by pushing on Riyad butt, and the team moved from foothold to foothold, reaching for a point where daylight still penetrated the dust and gloom....

********

At first she wasn’t sure, but then she could definitely make out a set of dark objects within the shattered skeleton of the building. They were moving haphazardly, yet definitely towards the ship. Her ATD didn’t detect any energy signatures coming from the figures, but still she lifted her weapon and aimed it at the outer doorway of the airlock.

Through the haze and dust outside, the dark figures grew larger and more defined, until suddenly a familiar face greeted her with a smile.

“Is this elevator taken?”

Sherri let out a laugh-cry and embraced the bloodied and dust-covered body of Adam Cain, feeling his warmth and heartbeat through her thin tunic. The reunion only lasted a second, however, as they were both shoved further into the airlock by the other men entering the small room. She looked around at the dust-caked faces, taking a quick inventory. Andy ... the Chief ... Riyad!

She broke away from Adam and rushed into the arms of Riyad Tarazi. He grimaced as she squeezed tight. She pulled away so she could get a good look at him. “Are you all right?”

“That is a matter of perspective, my lovely Sherri Valentine,” Riyad answered, his brilliant white smile unfazed by the dirt and grime on his face and accentuated by the darkness of this thick, black beard.

Sherri looked around again; there was something wrong. Her eyes locked on Adam. Adam’s mouth tightened. “That fucker McCarthy killed John.”

Tears began to flow freely down Sherri’s now equally dusty and grimy checks, creating dark trails that gave her face the look of a native warrior painted for battle. She was relieved when Adam took her by the arm and led her out of the airlock and forward to the pilothouse. She vaguely heard him bark out an order to Kaylor to get the ship back in the air and out into space as fast as the tub could fly, and soon she was placed back in the observation chair with the safety harness secured around her.

Never had she felt so exhausted, so worn down. She let her head fall to one side and she closed her eyes.
Maybe just a little rest. Yes, I just need a little rest….

********

Adam lifted Sherri’s limp head and pulled open an eyelid. He smiled as he gently let her chin fall to her chest.

“Is she okay?” Riyad asked, shuffling unsteadily along the radical slope of the ship’s deck.

“Yeah, she just fainted. Let the old girl rest.”

“Don’t let her hear you call her
old
. You may live to regret it.”

There was a sudden righting of the ship’s plane and Adam could see through the monitors lit up before him that the
Pegasus
was now blazing through the atmosphere of Elision, heading for the heavens. The gravity-well just off the forward section of the ship was drawing in the atmosphere from around them, creating a bubble of extremely low air pressure, allowing the
Pegasus
to bolt out of the atmosphere at a rate of speed that would melt other spaceships.

The transit from surface to space lasted only eight seconds before the
Pegasus
entered the vacuum of space and where Kaylor could initiate the deepest gravity-well ever recorded this close to the planet Elision. All their pursuers—and there were dozens—were left in the dust, grappling to understand what had just happened.

Fifteen minutes from the surface, the
Pegasus
was clear of all pursuit and blasting through space, alone and safe. At least for the time being….

Chapter 27

A
lthough he remained in his luxurious stateroom aboard the
UN-567
, Wydor bin Sulic could still monitor the activity taking place on the bridge of his flagship. He also had access to all the monitors and data available to his officers. What he was seeing didn’t make any sense.

The defenders at the head of the Volseen Corridor were still growing in number. The computers automatically tallied the ships as they moved within monitoring range, and they now indicated over four thousand spacecraft, with more being added by the minute. The computers were also able to discern the gravity signatures of the ship’s drives, and it was this information that gave Wydor the most concern. None of the signatures matched those known to belong to Kracori warships.

All the defenders were ships from other Nebula worlds, and although they appeared to smaller and ill-equipped to counter the Juirean invasion of the Dysion Void, it also meant that the Kracori forces would be fully-intact and waiting for them on the other side of the Corridor.

Even though Wydor admired the Kracori strategy of sending expendable units up first while preserving their own forces, he wondered what attrition rate he would see within his own fleet just trying to pass through the haze of ragtag defenders spread out before him? This circumstance was not something the Council or the military planners had foreseen. The Kracori had kept hidden from the rest of the Nebula. It should only have been them that his fleet engaged, and not this incredible number of disposable fodder, evidently designed to inflict as much damage on the Juireans in yet a losing cause. The Juireans may win this battle, yet at the price of losing the war.

Wydor left his stateroom and went to the bridge. Even though he knew Command-Overlord Enulic would consider it a distraction, the Juirean Elder had to confirm that his fleet commander also saw the trap being set for them.

The stern and concerned look on Enulic’s face spoke volumes. Units from both fleets had barely engaged. Normally it would be too early to carry such an expression on the face of the commander.

“Have you developed a counter strategy?” Wydor asked, giving his Fleet Commander the benefit of the doubt that he would understand the question.

“They intend for us to remain here and eliminate this fleet, no matter the cost. I propose we do not.”

“Explain.”

There was a grouping of other high-level Overlords gathered around the Command-Overlord. They had obviously been in discussion with Enulic when the Elder arrived on the bridge. “We are working on a strategy at this time.”

Enulic led his entourage to a flat tactical table which mirrored the larger screen at the head of the bridge. The graphic clearly showed the space between a series of three stars that constituted the entrance to the Volseen Corridor. Even though ‘corridor’ was not the appropriate word for the gap in the relatively thin Shield wall surrounding the Void, it did demonstrate how over time these stars had cleared the stellar ejecta to open a pathway into the interior.

And it was within these closely aligned star systems where the bulk of the defenders were stationed. Sending units into these systems to chase down and destroy the ships of the Nebula, with the parity in numbers both sides enjoyed, would only cause further delay and more casualties. On the other hand, attempting to run the gauntlet down the center of the Corridor would allow the defenders to strip off valuable assets from the edges of the fleet, until only a sliver of the full force remained by the time they encountered the Kracori.

“We must find a way to get the bulk of our fleet inside the Void without suffering undue attrition,” Lord Enulic said, stating the problem before them. “Suggestions?”

Another of the Overlords reached out a long, boney finger and traced a line on the screen along the left side of the Corridor. The screen traced his movements with a white line. “If we skirted along only one side of the Corridor with the bulk of our forces, then the defenders on the other side would have to leave their shelters to engage us. By the time they arrive on station, we would already be through.”

“And what of the defenders closest to our path” asked another of the senior Overlords. There was no condescension in his voice, only curiosity.

“We will take casualties; that is guaranteed. Yet if we could supply a buffer between us and the defenders, then we could preserve our best and strongest units for the Kracori.”

“
The arrows
?” Wydor asked.

The young Overlord with the ideas thought for a moment, feeling no intimidation keeping the leader of the Juirean race waiting for a reply. “We have several hundred of these units. They are quick and agile, and could inflict disproportionate damage on the defenders, distracting them from their main targets, namely the Class 4’s and higher. However, we would lose them all in the maneuver, including their crews.”

All eyes turned to Enulic. “That is acceptable. These units were designed for possible suicide missions. The loss of the entire squadron would still be less than the destruction of one Class 4.”

The Command-Overlord huddled over the tactical screen again. This time it was his finger that drew the lines. “We feign a separation of our forces to each side of the Corridor, causing the defenders to pull back further into their protective systems. Our strongest units will be along this line; the quicker ships to the opposite. In the meantime, we deploy the
arrows
along this line, as Overlord Krymic has suggested. At the appropriate time, the quicker contingent pulls away and races through the Corridor, while the
arrows
engage the defenders along this line. Our stronger units will do their best not to engage the enemy, rather letting the
arrows
serve as Lord Krymic’s buffer. Once through, our units will reassemble and proceed to Elision at flank speed.”

“And what of the Nebula defenders? Will they not follow?” another of the officers asked.

Lord Krymic spoke up again. “Undoubtedly, yet the superior speed of our fleet will keep them at bay. And once we engage the Kracori around their homeworld, the ally defenders from the Nebula may not wish to confront us while their protectors are being destroyed en masse. It is only the myth of Kracori battle-worthiness that is giving their allies the will to fight. Once that myth has been shattered, the alliance will dissolve as quickly as it formed.”

“You sound rather sure of your analysis, Lord Krymic,” Wydor said.

“Yes, My Lord,” Krymic said evenly. “Either we trust in this outcome ... or we retreat from the Nebula. If we are to resume our position in the galaxy, the Kracori must be destroyed, at whatever cost as is necessary. Retreat will only serve to further damage our own myth.”

Wydor raised an eyebrow at the blunt nature of the junior Overlord’s statement. However, blunt as it was, the statement was true. The Juirean fleet could
not
withdraw. That action would be worse than suffering total defeat at the hands of a numerically superior force. The Juireans had additional assets, just none on station. The destruction of the
Blood Fleet
would be tragic, yet not devastating. Retreat would be, even though considerable assets would be spared for future battles. It was the myth and the reputation of the Juirean war machine that required a resurrection. Fighting to the death, while inflicting incalculable damage on the enemy, would preserve the Juirean myth.

The young Overlord could see that, and from the determined looks on the other officers at the tac table, Wydor could tell they believed as well.

“Very good, Lord Krymic. Of course it is Command-Overlord Enulic’s ultimate decision....”

“I concur, My Lord,” Enulic said quickly. “We must fight to win, and lacking that, we must leave the Kracori much weaker and damaged in their own right.”

“And what of the Humans?” one of the others asked.

Wydor looked away, toward the vast viewport at the forward section of the bridge. Only stars appeared through the port, with no other Juirean spacecraft visible at this distance. It appeared as though the
UN-567
was alone in space, rather than at the head of a massive fleet of deadly warcraft. “The final demise of the Human race may have to wait for another time,” Wydor finally said without looking from the viewport. “In the meantime, we will allow them to solve the Kracori problem for us. The galaxy is large, and there will be time for us to regain our leadership of the Expansion. We know where the Humans live. They will be there when we are ready.”