Galaxy of Heroes Read online

  Professor Mahlis moved a chess piece. “Quite true. But remember, Captain Spade, we have been presented the opportunity to stop a wider war under the wake of which billions of peace-loving peoples could be torn asunder. I am certain that if I am able to interface with the Diocon command and control system I can convince it not to escalate hostilities.”

  “I don’t know, professor,” Spade said. He slid his queen across the chessboard. “I’m only human, but I’ve got you outmaneuvered. Check.”

  The professor’s whiskers twitched. “There is much to be said for being only human.”

  Professor Mahlis lifted a knight from the board with his slender, ringed fingers. “However, we Noctish had been around the galaxy a time or two long before you humans discovered bipedalism.”

  Mahlis placed the knight on the board. He grinned and clapped his tiny hands. “Checkmate.”

  Tanaka

  Professor Mahlis floated upward from his seat and across the galley and then disappeared down a transport tube.

  Spade sat alone at the chessboard. He groaned and leaned back in the chair and attempted to sit comfortably. Every muscle, bone and joint ached from the torture session he had so recently endured on Goff. He tried to rub the pain from his bones.

  His thoughts returned to Naos. The little barren moon orbited around the giant planet of Roga, for which the system was named. Roga was a swirling mass of green, red and yellow gas, and had served as the backdrop to his life on Naos. Spade had often spent hours staring upward at the churning, roiling cloud formations that raced across the giant face of Roga. As a young man, he often dove his interceptor down into the gas clouds, jetting through tremendous lighting storms before hurtling upward against the intense gravity field that attempted to pull him into the abyss.

  Naos held so many good memories for him—until his life there ended in a storm of metal and fire. He did not want to go back.

  Two small green lights flickered to life in a dark corner of the galley.

  “Tanaka,” Spade said, still rubbing his aching calf. “I didn’t see you back there.”

  Tanaka’s frail figure was illuminated by the glowing green light from his eyepieces. His legs were crossed as he sat motionless in a narrow corner.

  “What are you doing back there?”

  “Reading knowledge that you wouldn’t understand,” Tanaka answered.

  “What kind of knowledge?” Spade asked.

  “History,” Tanaka answered. “I hacked into a Craaldan database and downloaded enough info, it will take me eons to sift through.”

  “Good for you.”

  Tanaka was silent for a moment. “I’ve been watching your Professor Mahlis,” he said.

  “He seems like a good little guy,” Spade said. “I don’t see how he’s going to stop a war, but maybe he knows something we don’t.”

  “But then, you’ve never been mistaken for being the smartest human in the galaxy, Captain Spade,” Tanaka said.

  “I trust him,” Spade said.

  Tanaka suddenly became excited, lifting and waving his hands. “Those psycho Craaldans have files a mile deep on these so-called peace-loving Noctish,” he blurted. Then he fell silent for another moment.

  “Interesting combination,” Tanaka contemplated calmly, “the Craaldans and the Noctish.”

  “No doubt,” Spade said.

  “All is not what it seems,” Tanaka said.

  Tanaka explained in his condescending manner what he had just learned from the vast Craaldan database that he had gained access to—about how the cultures of the Noctish and the Craaldans intertwined in a symbiotic relationship that was destructive to all those who came into contact with them.

  At one time countless epochs ago, the Craaldans had been one of many great powers in the Inner Galaxy, and legendary for their martial prowess. The sheer size of their war machine necessitated rigid regimentation. This was their weakness. Once their adversaries understood Craaldan standard operating procedures, effective defenses could be mounted.

  Tanaka explained across the galley how at one point during a period of chaotic warfare in the Inner Galaxy, the Craaldan Empire came close to annihilation in the face of a powerful alliance. Noctish advisers stepped in and offered the Craaldans intelligence on their adversaries. The intel from the Noctish allowed the mighty Craaldan war machine to gain the upper hand, and to eventually crush its foes in a series of stunning surprise attacks that turned the tide of war.

  “The Craaldans conquered their way to dominance with guidance from the Noctish,” Tanaka said.

  “The Craaldans owe their empire to them?” Spade asked.

  “Obviously,” Tanaka answered.

  “What’s in it for the Noctish?” Spade asked.

  “The Noctish think of themselves as scholars and diplomats. But in reality they are shrewd traders who have been travelling the galaxy for millions of years buying and selling anything they find of value. In some accounts, they are described as obsequious sycophants in the face of power, while treacherous and ruthless to their rivals. When the Craaldans were up against a wall, the Noctish offered them a deal. For every civilization they helped the Craaldans destroy, the Noctish could keep the loot.”

  Spade turned this over in his mind for a moment. “What do you think the professor is up to on Naos?”

  “From what I gather, Professor Mahlis was not being entirely honest about the current situation on your moon,” Tanaka said. “The Craaldans are in an advantageous position. They have managed to consolidate their recent gains and their army and fleet are far stronger than the Diocon presence. The Diocon Empire is occupied with ongoing rebellions on several planets, which are tying up a significant portion of its forces.”

  In the zero gravity of space, Tanaka was no longer wearing the mechanical prostheses that aided his movement back on Goff. He lifted his frail body from his seat and adeptly moved spiderlike across the galley.

  Tanaka sat across from Spade and slid the chessboard aside. He lit up a map on the table that displayed this sector of the galaxy.

  “Naos is here,” Tanaka said. “If the Craaldans seize it, they will have a foothold in the Roga System from which they can divide the Diocon Empire from all these sectors here. If the Craaldans strike hard, as is their nature, they can cut off the Diocon logistics chain. The Roga System serves as an ideal base for further Craaldan attacks, and the odds are good that these sectors can be broken free from Diocon control. The Craaldans could then collapse the Diocon domination of huge swathes of the Inner Galaxy. It looks to me that if the Craaldans are able to take and hold Naos, they’ll have the Diocons on the run.”

  “But if Professor Mahlis is successful in his peace mission, the Diocons keep Naos,” Spade said.

  Tanaka rubbed his chin with his thumb and index finger and studied the map through his green lenses. “The Craaldans are dependent on the Noctish for intel,” Tanaka said. “It appears the professor has convinced the Craaldan commanders that the Diocons are more powerful than they truly are, and that a war now would be catastrophic. Since Noctish intel has gotten them this far, they are taking the professor’s word for it.”

  “What is the professor up to?” Spade asked, studying the map.

  “Hmm.” Tanaka looked down at the map through the green glow of his lenses. “I wonder.”

  Mingus

  Spade pulled himself onto his bunk. His joints ached. Intermittent jolts of pain shot through his nerve endings as his body attempted to recover from the severe torture session the Craaldans had inflicted on him.

  One thing Spade knew, though. Dr. Zander had designed him to be tough.

  Old Dr. Zander had only wanted one thing from this life—a safe place far from the conflicts that raged through the galaxy—a place where he could rebuild a free human society before the last of the human species had died off.

  On Naos, the doctor believed he had found that place. He had landed alone on the barren moon. In the laboratory on his ship, he had used his own DNA to create new humans. He grew fetuses in iron wombs pieced together from scrap and spare parts.

  To ensure genetic diversity, he had mixed his own genetics with DNA from other biological material that he had scraped up to form a meager DNA bank that he had amassed and preserved over the eons through countless battles, shipwrecks and radiation storms.

  On Naos, Dr. Zander slowly produced and raised three generations of humans. Those humans had gone on to grow families, and eventually a thriving city took shape on his faraway moon in an uncharted sector.

  Spade had no mother, but instead had been birthed from one of the iron wombs on Dr. Zander’s ship. The doctor had carefully selected Spade’s genes for steady hands, coolness under fire and the quick reflexes of a fighter pilot.

  Ninety-four percent of Spade’s DNA came from Dr. Zander, but the doctor had thrown into the mix assorted genes from his DNA bank. The remaining 6 percent was a jumble of genes spliced together from genetic strands taken from a dead Kailek sergeant, a German shepherd and a nematode that the doctor had collected from the Vomis asteroid out on the perimeter of the Roga System.

  Spade didn’t like to think about the fact that one of his ancestors was a small, legless creature without a brain that burrowed through rock and congregated during mating season in large pulsating, gelatinous clots. Dr. Zander had explained to him that the DNA from the Vomis nematode was the reason for his high tolerance for pain and his ability to quickly heal from injury; but still, Spade never brought up his ancestry in polite company.

  Spade knew nothing about the Kailek sergeant other than that the Kailek civilization had long ceased to exist. Dr. Zander had apparently found the sergeant’s corpse drifting through space, and never told Spade any more than that.

  Capt. Casey, a human
pilot Spade had once had a relationship with, said the source of his loyalty to Dr. Zander—and his dogged determination to find him—came from his canine DNA. Of course, Capt. Casey also said that this was also the source of his hound-like nature when it came to women.

  A knock on his door broke his reverie and returned him to wakefulness.

  “Who’s there?” Spade asked.

  The door slid open and Mingus pulled her oversized frame into his cabin. “May I come in, Jace?” she asked.

  He put his eye patch back on. “You’re already in,” he answered.

  She closed the door behind her. “We need to talk.”

  Mingus was so large and meaty that her bulk filled nearly all the cabin. Her long, black ponytail floated upward and pressed against the ceiling.

  “What’s on your mind?” Spade asked.

  “It’s Leonard. I’ve never seen him this way—I take that back. I have seen him this way. It’s the way he gets right before he loses control and really hurts someone.”

  “I’ll talk to him,” Spade said. “Whatever happens on the Naos mission, I will make sure that the crew remains out of harm’s way and behind enemy lines. Naos will be a brief stop before the ship is voyaging back to Meglos. I promise.”

  “It’s not the Naos voyage that he’s angry about,” she said.

  Mingus had pulled her black hair back in a pony tail to keep it manageable in the zero gravity, but it snaked around the ceiling and down the wall with every movement of her large head.

  She pulled herself down onto the bunk and sat next Spade.

  “Why is he angry?” Spade asked.

  “He’s jealous. He sees the way we look at each other, Jace. It drives him into a rage.”

  “The way we look at each other?”

  “It’s no use, I can’t fight it any longer!” Mingus threw herself onto him, kissing him hard on the mouth. “Oh, Jace! I was so frightened that you had been killed. I didn’t sleep for three days.”

  She held him so tightly that he couldn’t breathe. He feared his ribs would crack inside the bulging mass of her arms.

  “Not so tight, princess,” he gasped.

  She looked deeply into his eyes. Her blue eyes were red and teary.

  “Where is Leonard?” Spade asked. “He’ll kill us both if he finds you in here.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I slipped a trank in his water bottle. He’ll be in a coma for ages.”

  Mingus kissed Spade hard again. He felt as if his face were being sucked into the flesh of her oversized lips.

  Mingus quickly stripped off her boots, her pullover and her black trousers. She was now naked in his bunk.

  Her big biceps twitched and flexed. Her thighs were as wide as Spade’s torso, and her powerful shoulders looked strong enough to lift a Craaldan battle tank on a planet with greater than moderate gravity levels.

  She was large, but Mingus was definitely female. Her long black ponytail was silky smooth as it brushed over his arm and writhed around onto his back. She clutched Spade’s hands and pressed them into her massive bosom.

  “Oh, Jace,” she said.

  It had been so long since Spade had seen another human female. All the time together on his ship, just the four of them voyaging through the emptiness of space, he had never thought he had looked at Mingus in a romantic manner.

  Perhaps he had been looking at her as something more than just a crew member.

  “Oh, what the hell,” he said.

  Spade unzipped his flight suit and pulled off his shirt. He was still in his undershorts when Mingus threw herself at him and he was quickly buried under mounds of rippling muscle.

  Spade thrust her upward with his hands, which was not difficult in zero gravity. He then flipped her over and mounted her.

  The door to the cabin flung open with a crash and Brute’s massive frame filled the tight doorway. “Dammit, Spade!” Brute bellowed. “You are a dead man!”

  Oversized hands, giant arms and bulging muscles surged through the narrow opening. Brute’s huge hand gripped Spade by the neck and then flung him hard against the wall.

  The wind was knocked out of him. He gasped for air.

  “Stop, Leonard!” Mingus roared.

  She threw her large fist at him, catching him in the nose and staggering him backward into the doorway.

  Spade kicked off the wall and shot forward like a diver between Brute’s legs, and then out into the transport tube. Spade then scrambled up the tube as fast as he could pull himself.

  “Come back here, Spade!” Brute yelled. He clambered up the tube in pursuit.

  As Spade emerged into the galley, Brute grabbed him by the ankle. Spade kicked his heel into Brute’s face, but this only angered him. He flung Spade hard into a bulkhead.

  Spade felt as though his skull had cracked open. He struggled to regain his bearings, only to see a giant fist barreling toward his chest.

  The force of the blow was so strong that Spade thought for sure several of his internal organs had ruptured.

  “Stop this madness!” Professor Mahlis screamed. “Stop this madness now!”

  Brute pulled back his fist and launched it into Spade’s face, and with a crack, immediately knocked Spade into unconsciousness.

  The Craaldan Fleet

  Spade emerged from blackness and found himself alone in his cabin lying in his bunk. His torso and head were wrapped in bandages.

  He sat up and groaned. The pain from the torture session on Goff was still there, now compounded by aching ribs and a pounding headache.

  He opened a desk drawer and pulled out his M-2 handgun, checking to see if it was still loaded, which it was. He pulled his 8-inch combat knife from the drawer and slid it into its slot on the side of his thigh.

  He opened his cabin door and looked up and down the empty transport tube with his M-2 at the ready. He pulled himself up to the galley, which was empty. He then pulled himself up to the cockpit and poked his head inside.

  Brute was at the controls. Mingus, Tanaka and Professor Mahlis sat next to him staring intently forward into space.

  The Red Wrath was coasting through a vast assemblage of Craaldan warships. Destroyers, cruisers, troop transports and fighters seemed to stretch endlessly across the black void of space.

  Spade recognized the ships as the Craaldan 17th Expeditionary Fleet, much feared in this sector of the galaxy for its ability to destroy planets or overrun them with endless numbers of fearsome Craaldan infantry.

  Spade saw a familiar sight. The fleet was orbiting the red, green and yellow planet of Roga.

  Brute turned his head and looked up at Spade. “Well, well,” he said. “Our trustworthy captain is awake from his beauty sleep.”

  “There is the command ship, Mr. Brute,” Professor Mahlis said. “Contact it for further instructions.”

  “Roger,” Brute said.

  Mingus was looking up at Spade. She reached out and took his hand. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “I’ve been worse,” he said.

  Tanaka shook his head slowly and disapprovingly; then returned his attention outside to the Craaldan fleet.

  “Captain Spade, may I have a word with you in private?” Professor Mahlis asked.

  “Yeah, OK,” Spade answered. He holstered his M-2.

  The professor and Spade went together into the galley.

  “You and I will be boarding the 17th Fleet command ship,” the professor said. “I need to brief General Seb before we land on Naos. You will carry the crate labeled number six that is in cargo bay two. I will give you further instructions on who you will deliver it to once aboard the command ship. Do you understand?”

  “What’s going on with Brute?” Spade asked. “Is he still going to kill me?”

  Professor Mahlis waved his hand as if shooing the matter away. “Please proceed to cargo bay two and retrieve crate number six. Will you do that for me?”

  “OK,” Spade said, “but first tell me what the situation is with Brute.”

  “I spoke with Leonard and he decided that his dispute with you is over.”

  “It’s over?” Spade asked.

  “Yes. He came to see that his relationship with Pulchritunia was dysfunctional and that it was best for all parties to move on with their lives.”

  “Pulchritunia?”

  “Yes. Miss Pulchritunia Mingus,” the professor said. “She has quite the crush on you, Captain.”