Scorched Earth: (The Human Chronicles Saga Book #16) (9 page)

Riyad turned to Adam. “Don’t you have enough information already? Let’s get on with it.”

“You’re right.”

Through his ATD, Adam located a single flash weapon in each of the side rooms and severed the firing controls. Then he activated the power packs in the handguns, setting them on rapid pulse.

The Overlord looked at the four Humans with confusion and curiosity. There was no fear or concern in their eyes or manners

A steadily increasing whine—rising up from within the two side rooms—distracted the Overlord. He looked to his left and opened his mouth to say something—

A pair of massive explosions rocked the building, blowing open the doors to the meditation rooms and sending hot smoke and flaming body parts into the large reception hall. The Juireans hiding in the side rooms had just learned what happens when an MK weapon builds up a critical energy load with nowhere to go. It turns into fairly decent-sized bomb. The explosive intensity was also magnified by the small space and metal walls of the rooms, making the effect even stronger than anticipated. Some of the Juireans
might
have survived, but they were no longer a threat to Adam and his men.

Neither were the Guards in the throne room. Adam had already severed the firing controls to their weapons, and now they pressed triggers in a fevered panic, with no results.

Riyad, Travis and Tom pounced on the hapless aliens. Even though Juireans towered a foot or two above the Humans; solid fists struck green-tinted flesh with the force of sledgehammers. In most cases, the hand-to-hand battle didn’t last longer than a single blow.

Adam stepped forward and shoved the heavy gold desk toward the Overlord, pinning him against the wall. Ribs broke and internal organs burst. Andis was conscious, but barely.

“Are you the one who killed Admiral Tobias?” Adam growled at the alien.

A feeble nod was all the Juirean could muster.

“Good. At least this is a start.”

Adam pressed the desk tighter against the wall. The Overlord coughed up blood, and a grey sheen glossed over his once-yellow eyes.  

Adam was barely aware as his men gathered up weapons and finished off the last remaining Juirean Guards who rushed into the room in a fruitless attempt to aid their fellow beings. He was in a trance, staring at the killer of Andy Tobias. Yes, it was a start…but it wasn’t enough. Adam seriously doubted there were enough Juireans to kill in the Milky Way galaxy to make up for the loss of his friend and mentor. He would have to find out.

When the trance lifted, Adam did a quick mental scan of the compound, looking for the energy signals of flash weapons. Six armed Juireans remained alive. They were racing toward the nearby spaceport where they would alert others.

Someone stepped next to him.

With his jaw set and eyes unblinking, Adam turned to the equally intense face of Riyad Tarazi. “Four months. We have four months,” Adam said.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

Adam nodded. “Yeah, a scorched earth campaign…all the way to Juir.”

Tom Paulson heard the comment and reacted. “Excuse me, sir, but you’re proposing we fight our way…
to Juir
? Let me remind you,  the planet is the capital of the Expansion and the homeworld of the mane-heads. And you only have one starship.”

“No one’s asking you to go, Tom.”

Paulson took a step closer to Adam, his chest inflated in defiance. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just pointing out some very important operational considerations. For the record, you couldn’t keep me from going.”

“Me, too…sir,” said Sergeant Morgan.

Adam’s answering smile contained not an ounce of humor; to any sane man, it would have turned their blood to ice.

“We couldn’t save Andy, and there’s a very good chance the same will be true for Sherri and Arieel. But the only way to change that is if we control the high ground when they get to Juir. Success or failure, that means we make the mane-heads pay a very steep price for what they’ve done, the ultimate price, in fact. And that goes for anyone else who gets in our way.”

Riyad looked at the dead Juirean Overlord. His body had slumped over while still pinned against the wall by the heavy gold desk. “So where do we begin?”

“Right here.”

 

Chapter 7

 

 

There were three Juirean Class-2’s and four planetary shuttles in the small spaceport located near the palace. By the time Adam and his men reached the wide expanse of concrete, the larger Two’s had lifted. The warships could have easily circled back around and leveled the whole area, but the escaping Guards didn’t know the full extent of their defeat. They bolted into space, burning up CW comm links while giving truncated versions of the battle.

Somewhere on the planet—or nearby in space—was the rest of the Overlord’s forces. Senior Juirean officials seldom traveled with less than a dozen escorts, and if Andis lo Pindoc was indeed a sector chief, then he probably had double that at his disposal.

There were several electric transports at the spaceport. Adam sent Riyad and Morgan off in one of them to recover the Mark VII, and then to fly cover if any Juireans appeared in the skies above the palace. Then he sent Paulson back to the building to grab all the bulk food supplies he could find for the ship’s processors. He also tasked him with gathering up all the loose gold he could find within the palace. None of the Humans had any money, and even in a galaxy full of the gold, the yellow metal still carried substantial intrinsic value on a multitude of worlds.

“What are you going to do?” Riyad asked as he hopped into the open-air cart for the overland sprint to the Mark VII.

“I’m going to have a talk with some of the natives in town. They helped the Juireans find Andy. I can’t let that go unpunished.”

“Don’t take too long. This place will be swarming with mane-heads in a matter of minutes.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not in a very talkative mood.”

 

********

 

The local native town also had the distinction of the being the largest on the planet. The natives weren’t very sophisticated, just simple creatures whose only claim to fame was their culinary skills at preparing incredible meals out of the huge, ostridge-like birds that roamed the area.

During the few weeks he’d spent at the palace, Adam had met several of the town leaders. They all wanted to meet the famous Adam Cain, savior of the galaxy from the Sol-Kor menace.

Now they were going to meet to a new Adam Cain, an even deadlier Adam Cain.

The town was abuzz with news of the assault on the palace. They’d heard gunfire and the huge explosions, followed by the sudden departure of the Juirean warships. Now they lined the main street, coming to watch Adam’s march to the government building near the town square. Most recognized him as the Human who had journeyed to another dimension and personally destroyed the Sol-Kor Colony. Of course, most of the stories they heard ranged from simple embellishments to all out fantasies. But the one common thread that ran through all of them: Adam Cain was a killer. Even still, there were females and children, young and old there to see him. There was celebration in the air.

Adam approached the central government building where the planetary executive lived and worked. Adam wasn’t surprised when Lofis Crondillic came out to greet him at the top of the steps.

“My friend, Adam Cain, you have returned,” the short, purple creature greeted. Although he tried to hide it, his voice trembled with fear.

Adam didn’t stop on the landing; instead he walked right up to Lofis, wrapped a strong hand around his thick neck and pinned him against the outer wall of the building, his feet dangling a foot off the deck.

Several dozen natives had followed Adam up the street; now they gasped.

“You’re working with the Juireans,” Adam growled at the shocked native.

“No,” Lofis squeaked. “We are your friends, as before.”

“Bullshit! Your people led the Juireans to Admiral Tobias and the others.”

“We did not—”

“Stop lying. Two of our men survived and saw your people with the Juireans.”

The eyes of the native were wild with fear. “You left. The Juireans were here. We had no choice.”

“Did
you
help them?”

Lofis diverted his manic eyes. “I…I assisted, although the main search duties were reserved for the young among us. I am too old to tread the forest these days.”

Adam lowered Lofis and released him. He turned to the crowd that had formed on the street below the landing. They recoiled from his intense, savage stare.

“I’ve just killed the Overlord and more than fifty Juirean Guards,” he yelled out, his strong, angry voice echoing down the street. “You no longer have to fear the Juireans.”

The crowd cheered…until Adam lashed out with his right leg, striking Lofis in the chest. The force of the kick sent the old native busting through the front door of the building and into the interior. Adam then removed a hand grenade from his utility belt, pulled the pin and tossed the knotty green metal ball into the building.

“But now you have to fear the Humans!”

He stepped to the side of the doorway.

None of the natives knew what a hand grenade was, not until a thunderous torrent of fire, smoke and debris exploded through the doors and windows of the building. Several of the shocked natives stumbled backwards as they attempted to move away from the blast, while others took wholesale flight.

Adam stepped forward, mingling with the black smoke billowing from the building.

“Run, all of you! Run for your lives. You thought the Juireans were dangerous, but you have no idea what Humans are capable of. Run before you find out…just like Lofis did.”

Adam descended the stairs, however this time as he marched down the center of the street, not a single purple native was seen.  

   

 

Chapter 8

 

Adam entered the palace a few minutes later to find a three-foot-high stack of assorted gold objects near the front door. Paulson walked up and dropped another armful of shiny items onto the pile with a loud clunk.

“There’s so much damn gold here that if we took just the loose items, the ship would be too heavy to lift,” said the sweating officer. “I found a cart—made of gold, of course—and loaded up the food canisters from the main kitchen. Should last the four of us quite a while. And here, I found this.” Paulson handed Adam a datapad. “It’s the Overlord’s.”

Adam switched it on. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Yessir. A running update of Juirean locations in the Frontier. The number of ships will change, but probably not the base locations. Should give us a pretty good indication where our targets are placed.”

“Great job, Tom.”

Adam had already heard through his comm that Riyad and Travis had the Mark VII circling high above, scanning for bogies. He looked at the pile of gold on the floor. “This should do,” he said. “Let’s get the ship down here and loaded. And screw the spaceport. Have them set down right outside.”

 

********

 

Ten minutes later the starship was loaded and ready to lift when Adam made an announcement.

“I’m tired of calling this ship the Mark VII. From now on we’ll call it the
Vengeance
. Just seems appropriate.” There were no arguments, and moments later the newly christened
Vengeance
burned away another layer of landscaping from outside Panur’s palace as chem jets sent the starship skyward.

“We knew this was coming,” Commander Paulson said moments later from the nav station. “Eight ships, just breaking the horizon.”

The
Vengeance
was in space by then, and the first contingent of alien warcraft were soon joined by another four coming around the planet from the other side.

“Pogo, are you fully charged up? We’re going to need the laser beams hot in just a few seconds.”

“I’m ready. Just use conventional gravity maneuvering, no light-drive.” The ancient orb’s synthetic voice came over the bridge speakers, being converted from his typed comments on an isolated console.

“Who’s that?” Sergeant Morgan asked. There were only three active stations within the small pilothouse, so Travis had made a makeshift spot for himself along the rear bulkhead.

“Another crewmember,” Adam said, looking at Riyad in the co-pilot seat. “I’ll introduce you later. Pogo, how many batteries do you have charged?”

“All four.”


Pogo
…his name is Pogo?” Paulson said.

“Later. What’s the recycle time?”

“Half a second between pulse, for nine pulses. Then I will need a few minutes to recharge.”

“That should be plenty.”

“Mister Paulson, you have weapons. Pre-target the Juireans. Light ‘em up.”

“Yessir.” The officer’s voice was laced with uncertainty. Adam got the sense he was having trouble taking seriously a crewmember named Pogo. A few seconds later he reported that the targets were locked. “Within range in four minutes.”

“Set the range for ten thousand miles,” Adam commanded.

“Repeat. Maximum cannon range is thirty-five hundred, sir.”

“Ten thousand, Commander. This ship has a secret weapon that can vaporize a target out to twenty thousand miles.”

Now the look of confusion was total on Paulson’s face. “Okay, assuming you’re right, then why not twenty thousand miles?”

“I want to keep that bit of information secret from the mane-heads. Ten thousand will be plenty for what we’re facing. Four banks, against twelve targets, with a half-second recharge between blasts. This should be over before it begins.”

“In that case, sir…targets in range in fourteen seconds.”

“Fire when in range, Tom.”

Moments later, the dark of space outside the ship was lit up by a flash of brilliance coming through the forward viewport. Paulson had put a tactical graphic up on the main screen placed between the two rectangular windows. It showed the incoming Juirean vessels, four of which were now connected to the
Vengeance
by thick white lines. The tracks faded, only to be replaced by others linked to another four Juirean ships. In the brief interval after the last set of lines disappeared, only three of the eight targets were still showing as active threats. The others were classified as out-of-action.

“Oops!” came the tinny voice over the speakers.

“Oops? Oops what? What’s happening, Pogo?” Adam asked. Simultaneously, he’d noticed that the last set of laser beams failed to leave the ship.

“It’s not me…it’s the firing circuits. They couldn’t handle the increased load so quickly. Two of the batteries are down. If I engage the other two, their circuits will also  burn out. I’m just a personal service module. I wasn’t built for this kind of work!”

“Shields! Charge the standard cannon. We do have standard cannon, don’t we?”

“Double banks of four,” Paulson replied.

“There are still seven of them, and only one of us,” Riyad pointed out.

“What’s the status of the three we hit, but are still listed as active?”

Riyad checked his screen. “High res shows they took strikes, but the beams hit non-critical areas. Two have reduced generator output, which will make them slower. Weapons systems still hot, though. The third ship is fully functional. By the way, they just engaged their field dampers. Oh, and did I mention, four of the Juireans just launched flash bolts our way. Just thought you should know.”

Riyad’s calm demeanor only irritated Adam. He was only acting that way because he knew Adam would save the day. He probably would…but that wasn’t the point.  It’s just that Riyad
assumed
he would. That put a lot of pressure on a person, hero or not.

With the dampers active, Adam couldn’t escape into a full gravity-well. He could still use the microscopic black holes for maneuvering, but he couldn’t create one deep enough to produce a light-speed-capable event horizon. That was just one of his problems. The most-immediate, however, were the four incoming flash cannon bolts headed their way.

The Juireans had fired the bolts at maximum range, more out of desperation against the longer range laser beams of the
Vengeance
than with any real hope of hitting their target. Cannon bolts traveled at just under light-speed and dissipated after three thousand miles or so. A maneuvering starship at distance could easily avoid the unguided plasma bolts. The preferred strategy for cannon warfare was to send out a spread of deadly bolts at close range. If a few could contact the target ship, then it was possible to disable the vessel to a point where more concentrated fire could be leveled at the craft.

In this case, Adam simply corkscrewed the
Vengeance
out of the path of the incoming bolts, while moving in closer and lining up on one of the Juirean Class-3’s. “Launch spreads at your discretion, Mister Paulson.”

The ship jerked four times as eight cannon bolts departed the ship. At this range, and with that many bolts, there was little the Juirean ship could do. It tried to evade, but was still hit with three bolts. Two contacted the forward screens, overloading them and allowing the third bolt to reached the hull. It hit near the bridge. Readings showed the engines were still operational, but the ship spiraled away from the battlefield, having lost her command crew.

“They’ve launched their own spread. Forty bolts, Captain.” Paulson reported calmly. He was a pro. To a normal person, forty incoming bolts would have been cause for panic.

Adam was a pro, as well. He didn’t panic, but he was desperate. He pressed the control stick all the way forward and dove for the surface of Worak-nin, eighteen thousand miles below, hoping to use the planet’s gravity to mess with the Juireans’ targeting calculations.

When launching their spread, the techs aboard the Juirean warships calculated the maximum distance the
Vengeance
could travel from release to contact. This determined the range of the spread. With just a little boost from the planet below, Adam hoped it would be just enough to move them beyond the range of the spread.

With a sigh of relief, the maneuver worked.

Then they all gasped as they entered the planet’s atmosphere traveling at close to nine thousand miles per hour. The hull of the
Vengeance
wasn’t built to handle such reentry heat. Within a second, the nose of the ship was glowing red.

Adam shifted the gravity-well ninety degrees above the ship, creating an instant course change. The inertia compensators couldn’t handle the stress, not completely. Adam, Riyad and Paulson strained in their harnesses. Travis Morgan—sitting unrestrained in a standard chair at the back of the bridge—found himself pressed against the rear bulkhead and sliding toward the ceiling, as the ship continued along its arc and back into the cold of space. When Adam leveled out, and the compensators took over again, Travis was on the ceiling. He fell the ten feet to the hard metal deck with a heavy grunt.

“You okay?” Adam yelled over his shoulder.

“I think so. How about a little warning next time, Captain?”

“I’ll try. Now find something to tie yourself too. We’re not out of the woods yet.”

There were six Juirean warships in space above them. Having seen the
Vengeance
dive for the surface, they now formed a barricade, taking the high ground in the battle. More cannon bolts rained down toward them.

“Pogo, we don’t have a choice. Charge the two remaining batteries. We’ll deal with the fried circuits later. Tom, take out the two mane-heads the farthest away. Then lay down a barrage of cannon fire at the closest ships.”

“Aye, sir.”

The forward viewports lit up again as the laser beams lashed out. If they hit their targets, then only four of the enemy would remain. Adam didn’t wait around to find out. He skirted the top of Worak-nin’s atmosphere at just under light speed.

The ship jerked as another eight bolts were released.

The
Vengeance
was struck by four incoming balls of plasma energy. Fortunately, they contacted three separate diffusion screens. None were overloaded. In the meantime, it took some fancy piloting on Adam’s part to avoid the other enemy bolts streaking after them.

The shields would need a full minute to regain complete integrity. Until then, just one more hit would short them out.

Paulson’s latest spread took out another of the Juireans. Now there were only three. Adam was hoping that at some point the mane-heads would decide to cut tail and run.

“Pogo. Status on the beam circuits?”

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