Alliance Read online

  BEYOND

  APOCALYPSE

  Book II

  ALLIANCE

  by

  Bruce S. Larson

  An e-novel from

  World Line One Press

  BEYOND APOCALYPSE

  Book II

  ALLIANCE

  by

  Bruce S. Larson

  © 2018 by Bruce S. Larson

  All Rights Reserved. All elements of this book, including cover art and all images in all formats are copyrighted by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means without the prior written consent of the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. All elements of the stories are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual places, events, and persons living or dead within this book is purely coincidental.

  This and other fine fiction

  Published by

  World Line One Press

  ISBN: 978-1-945207-22-8

  CONTENTS

  Introduction

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FORTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINTEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Introduction

  Beyond Apocalypse: Alliance is the second book in the series. No spoilers will be found in this Introduction, but if you enjoy mystery wrapped in epic adventure, the first book will give that and more. It will also better set the stage for Alliance, and make it a deeper and more satisfying read.

  The extraordinary scale of these novels begins with General Anguhr's experience in a universe where an almighty power does exist, but it is a dark force Anguhr and Hell's other titanic Generals serve. Interstellar and internal conflicts burn across the galaxy. The culmination of those struggles sets the stage for this second book.

  Although Alliance is accessible from page one, the galactic battle begins and many revelations are found in the initial book, Beyond Apocalypse. For an epic read and apocalyptic shocks, we suggest you enjoy book one of the galaxy-spanning epic series.

  CHAPTER ONE

  For all, there is a beginning. For many species on many worlds, they were born into war. That war was with Hell, and it spanned creation. Hell’s ruler, the Dark Urge, sent out titanic Generals with hordes of countless demons on warships that could sunder planets and detonate stars. Where interstellar empires once spanned, her ships brought flame, and then oblivion. Countless souls were born and died that knew nothing of life before the threat of Hell. It was an age of galactic apocalypse.

  Apocalypse is understood as devastating change. It is also defined as revelation. The true origin of General Anguhr, the Destroyer, proved epochal. Anguhr’s personal revelation came from a being of light made incarnate, Zaria. She campaigned to end the Hell’s war of annihilation. Once, Zaria was part of the same mind as the Dark Urge before they split into two distinct beings. Zaria revealed the truth of Anguhr’s origin to Hell’s youngest General. It severed his allegiance to the Dark Urge. Anguhr turned his love of battle against Hell and his false creator. He destroyed the other two Generals known to live, and then left Hell to build a new future with his loyal horde. The age of apocalypse was over.

  Before Hell’s civil war, some civilizations escaped before their worlds became partitioned cinders sent to feed the Dark Urge’s fear. They hoped to survive hidden in deep space or on new worlds. One such colony was unique, and in ways that even the pioneers on its desolate surface did not know. Their species originated on the planet Poledoris where Hell’s onslaught was interstellar history. A consortium of Poledorian engineers began building a colony ship and hoped it would never launch. But their foresight proved worthy. As the colony ship’s vast hull was sealed, General Tanuhr’s hellship neared their star.

  The consortium asked all nations to send their best citizens to crew the ship and populate a new world free from Hell. However, a powerful military state decided to seize the ship and deploy it to fight the coming horde. More practical and capable minds knew the ship could only save their species if it fled, not fought. The colony ship launched before full system completion as the aggressor nation’s navy, not Tanuhr’s hellship, drew close to shore.

  In deep space, the colony ship was forced to land on a world far from ideal, but perhaps safe from invasion. It was uncharted and far from gravitational links between stars. It had no moon, no planetary neighbors, and no sun. It was the mass of a terrestrial planet traveling alone in interstellar space. Its accreted and cratered surface told of long journeys through other systems, nebular dust, and impacts with other dark bodies between stars. The colonists had no knowledge of where it came from. But their fuel was spent. Astronomic observations since landing revealed their calculations of its trajectory were, somehow, wrong. Wherever the world they named Tectus was going, they were along for the interplanetary ride. If they could survive.

  In Tectus’ present day, one colonist suppressed fears her people’s new home faced doom. Myra glanced up at the black sky. Few species that sensed light could see the thin veil of charged dust swept high into the artificial atmosphere. The planet’s magnetic field gently fluctuated from internal energies the now-native scientists did not fully comprehend. Myra was grateful that what she looked to see wasn’t there. She chastised herself for wasting that fraction of a second, and continued across the ruddy, frozen dust. The uncertain footsteps of others sounded behind her.

  The land was nearly as dark as the sky. Myra’s eyes were also dark. An added adaption to the colonists’ genome allowed them to gather more of the weak surface light. Her large eyes sat above nostrils that looked more like gills. Still, any human from the distant past would recognize the determination in her stare. She and her group made good time on their long legs. The weapon Myra gripped was also dark, forged of near-black alloy. The original colonists left the arms stores in the vast cargo hold. They wished instead for one more automated plow as they tilled hard-packed soil to make their new planet’s first farms.

  The rifle was still an unfamiliar thing from the world of Myra’s parents. She knew the history of Poledoris well. Myra taught it with passion since her election to the high position of educator. Hell forced their emigration and was still hated and feared. Yet, if Myra knew the history of Hell’s first General, Azuhr, she might take inspiration from that dark titan who shared her gender if not occupation. Myra never intended to be a warrior, but now held a weapon. It was not a gigantic sword as Azuhr had used. Azuhr’s sword was a lost artifact. So was Myra’s rifle, until pulled from its rack inside a museum.

  Myra would respect that Azuhr fought to protect her unexpected child. Myra led a large group of children along with the villagers who voted her to be their one-person militia. She took them from their unprotected homes to rendezvous with a transport. The destination was Tectus’ one, true city. It was named New Poledoris, but typically called the Hull. New blocks of steel and ascending s
pires arced from the city center. Nevertheless, even two generations after landing, the dominant structure was still the massive fuselage of the immobile colony ship. Myra wondered if these children were part of the last generation on the desolate world. She chastised herself for the thought, and kept marching.

  Myra had reason for her fear. In recent days, arcs of light had moved like fast comets in the perpetual night sky. Before space-travelling cultures, sentient minds regarded such phenomena as acts of gods or wondrous natural events. Myra knew the lights were the drive plumes of ships. Just as any omen, their unannounced presence was alarming. Soon after, officials relayed translations of intercepted communications from the alien vessels. They were military scouts. Tectus had been discovered. A fleet would not be far behind.

  More points of light appeared among the distant, dim stars of the Tectus sky. These stayed and took orbit. The aliens ignored all attempts at contact. Then one message came over all bands of media. It was already translated, oddly accented, but understandable and just one word. Surrender. Evil was not unique to the Dark Urge. Some who realized the demon hordes had suddenly vanished used the vacuum to assert their power. The people of Tectus came under threat just as their ancestral world. This time, there was no hope of flight.

  Although no one on Tectus could flee, there never a thought to surrender. Myra’s people felt capitulation meant deserting the sacrifice of all on Paledoris and all who toiled to survive on Tectus. Not just their lives, but also the history of two planets and all their work to persist would be lost. Yielding to the invaders and letting them decide their fate was culturally impossible. Governors, atmospheric engineers, hydrologists, surface farmers, physicians and every technician of every field now worked to save their people with little more than love of freedom, valor, and hope. Nevertheless, the colonists resisted.

  “Look! There!” One of the older children shouted.

  Myra turned. She saw three bright dots descending from the black to the crimson wastes not far from the village they had left. The dots slowed as they neared the surface. Myra’s hearts raced. She knew the invasion had begun. The invaders set down nearby, and Myra had no idea of their speed on the surface. The transit point was still a long trek around low mountains concealing the Hull and its re-energized shields. The invaders would spot them before they reached the transport craft, if it still was en route. Myra glanced up at the rounded summits on her right. Perhaps they had caves and a place to hide. She drew a breath and spoke in a clear, commanding voice.

  “Children, everyone, we must run.”

  Many had fled Hell across creation. The surviving Khan Sirus had engineered a small solar system to flee into the intergalactic void. Once, his kind ruled stellar empires. They dared feel the equal to their half-mother, the Dark Urge. Then they suffered her wrath in the form of Azuhr and her demon horde. Azuhr would also betray the Dark Urge, and cause more Generals to strike out from Hell. Others had been less industrious than Sirus in their escape, but more cunning.

  The surface of Hell was more bleak and lethal than Tectus. To exist on its surface would require unimagined strength. The Khans had such strength. So did some of their enemies, who later joined them when Hell’s Generals proved capable of killing them all. Hell was considered the most lethal planet to exist. Setting foot on its surface was impossible. That belief, coupled with the greatest act of audacity ever known, afforded the Khan Bahl and his forces a near perfect place to slip the Dark Urge’s fury. They hid from her among the folds of her planet’s skin.

  General Anguhr’s rebellion brought the war against creation back to Hell. His fellow Generals Ursuhr and Sutuhr were true children of the Dark Urge. They stood with their mother and fought Anguhr. Before their battle raged, the Dark Urge stoked energies of Hell’s core, the Forge, to raise a shield of radiation. It seared the last place she would think to seek revenge, and forced Bahl and most of his followers into a dimensional void. Fear had long driven the Dark Urge into madness. Shock from the destruction of her loyal Generals sundered her intellect. The greatest threat to creation withdrew into her mind.

  Bahl could not exist forever in the void. It would collapse and make him and all with him less then memory. All they could do was hope their necessary return was also when Hell’s seared and toxic wastelands had cooled and become solid. The void’s generator struggled against dying energy to open a portal. An oval of spacetime violations rippled as the doorway expanded. Bahl stepped out. Never was a homecoming more grim.

  A field of death greeted Bahl. He had no choice but to walk over the many bodies of those too late to enter the void, or those that stayed to leave Hell through oblivion. On a world where life produced giants, Bahl would still be a colossus. Great size was a theme for all generations of Hell's conquerors. Two other giants stepped forth to join Bahl in reconnaissance. One was the female Khan, Inaht. The other was the alien giant, Aekos.

  Bahl and Inaht were shaped as the best guess of how lost humanity would appear in an idealized form. Their skin color rippled in shades of deepest brown to dark bronze with an ethereal aura. Their armor and swords were sunlit gold. However, Bahl’s expression became as harsh as their surroundings. Many of the corpses were his friends. They were finally victims of the Hell, but its long sought revenge was unknown. In the past, Bahl had shouted his own oath of vengeance. Now, he signed and walked on.

  Aekos strode on four, thick legs with talon-bearing feet. His body was that of a lizard-like centaur with a serrated tale made more devastating by razors woven into its scales. Two, powerful arms hung from his angled torso below the face of a massive shark pushing through a wave of reptilian skin. Though few ever realized it, Aekos was typically smiling. He carried the spear of the Khan Nazeer whom he had eaten. Thus, Inaht and Bahl knew he was a capable ally.

  Above, crimson lit Hell’s skies from its star called the Red Giant. However, its full expansion was artificially halted by another engineered impossibility, the celestial machine known as the Iron Work. Its bands that surrounded and contained the former white sun in perpetual explosion were only perceptible by unnatural eyes. The vast machine was the justification of the Dark Urge’s war against all life. In truth, planets were sundered to feed her fear, not the Forge in Hell’s core that once made the parts for the stellar cage. The vast minds that built the Forge and the Iron Work left the physical world long before corruption transformed their engine of creation into Hell. Perhaps each Builder became a universe. Their presence lingered in titanic machines and more subtle alterations of reality often mistook as forces of nature. Their constructions remained across the galaxy, and wherever the universe extended beyond perception.

  Bahl stopped at the edge of the fallen bodies. He looked down at the remains of the Khan, Valthazar, who had stayed behind to bear witness. Secretly, he wished to take part in what he felt was a coming battle. He was right, but his ego cost him his once-thought immortal life. Bahl arched an eyebrow at the sight of a machine partially fused with the ground, along with his friend’s lower body. Valthazar had kept a multi-dimensional recorder hidden from the others because technology held energies that Hell might detect. Now, it only cooled as slag. Valthazar had finally come to the portal not to escape, but deliver his message. As his recorder had failed, he scrawled what he could as his fingers burned and the ground became molten. It was a childlike act that took all his vast strength. Yet it seemed nothing more than a clue in search of a mystery.

  “A stellar emperor reduced to carving simple symbols into fusing dust.” Inaht said. Her strong voice carried both sadness and rebuke.

  “Three. Red.” The words seemed to vibrate from Bahl and ripple through the tortured surface.

  “Three times the rage?” Aekos asked. His near hiss of a voice made his words sound as if spoken by a windstorm.

  “Three times foolish.” Bahl replied.

  “No respect for the dead, great Bahl?” Aekos twisted his torso toward the Khan.

  “We are all dead, in effect,” Bahl breathed.
He stared across the once-molten expanse. “We have scuttled about the surface of damnation. To hide from Hell, we cowered just beyond the edge of her eyelids.”

  “Then I am thankful that, although she conquered the universe, it gave her no mirror.” A grinding noise indicated Aekos was quietly laughing.

  “Poetic irony, verily.” Inaht added.

  “Pathetic existence.” Bahl growled and continued walking.

  “To be sure, we are on Hell.” Aekos looked back across the field of the dead. “The source of damnation for others, that now has taken our friends.”

  Bahl was already a distance away from the dead. Both Aekos and Inaht noticed his gait was no longer the furtive, crouched motions they used when daring to venture from their shadowed dwellings in a fissured region they called the Slags. Bahl walked closer to a ridge that blocked the line of sight to a distant portal to Hell’s interior. In past excursions, they saw lines of the massive ingots cast in the Forge rising into space from the portal. The ingots were once pieces of shattered worlds. Recast as ingots, they were sent to become part of the Iron Work. In reality, their production only fed the lies of the Dark Urge. The intake of raw ore and issue of ingots had ceased before the radiation began to rise. Both Bahl’s allies noticed why the ridge now so interested to him. Something had caused it to rise since they fled into the void.

  Bahl raised his head over the lip of the ridge, and froze. Inaht froze, too, when seeing her leader become still. Aekos briefly considered the caution of his friends, but just as quickly raised his right, shark-like eye to see what awed Bahl. He sank back with his serrated jaws agape. Inaht gasped as Bahl stood. He no longer feared detection. Anything near the interior portal, even of hellish origin, would be as dead as their trapped friends, and less likely to have left remains. A great mass had struck a shallow valley beyond the ridge. Impact waves through Hell’s surface had lifted the land. The crater’s edge was a stilled wave of molten crust that now cooled. The catastrophic change was not what astonished them.