Destroyer of Worlds Read online

  Destroyer of Worlds

  The Human Chronicles Saga #26

  T.R. Harris

  An Adam Cain Novel

  Copyright 2019 by T.R. Harris

  All rights reserved, without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanically, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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  Novels by T.R. Harris

  The Human Chronicles Saga

  The Fringe Worlds

  Alien Assassin

  The War of Pawns

  The Tactics of Revenge

  The Legend of Earth

  Cain’s Crusaders

  The Apex Predator

  A Galaxy to Conquer

  The Masters of War

  Prelude to War

  The Unreachable Stars

  When Earth Reigned Supreme

  A Clash of Aliens

  Battlelines

  The Copernicus Deception

  Scorched Earth

  Alien Games

  The Cain Legacy

  The Andromeda Mission

  Last Species Standing

  Invasion Force

  Force of Gravity

  Mission Critical

  The Lost Universe

  The Immortal War

  Destroyer of Worlds

  The Human Chronicles Book Bundles

  Bundle #1 - Books 1 -5 in the series

  Bundle #2 - Books 6-10 in the series

  Bundle #3 - Books 11-15 in the series

  Bundle #4 - Books 16-20 in the series

  REV Warriors Series

  REV

  REV: Renegades

  REV: Rebirth

  REV: Revolution

  REV: Retribution

  Jason King – Agent to the Stars Series

  The Enclaves of Sylox

  Treasure of the Galactic Lights

  The Drone Wars Series

  Day of the Drone

  In collaboration with George Wier…

  The Liberation Series

  Captains Malicious

  Available exclusively on Amazon.com

  and Kindle Unlimited.

  Contents

  Adam Cain is an alien with an attitude.

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  The End

  Author Notes and FREE BOOK OFFER

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  Novels by T.R. Harris

  Adam Cain is an alien with an attitude.

  His story continues…

  In the exciting continuation of The Human Chronicles Saga, the allied forces of the galaxy unite to fight against unbeatable star fleets with superior weapons designed by the Mad Aris, Kracion. Now that he’s immortal, the situation has become more complicated and the stakes even higher. But with the help of the mutants Panur and Lila, the allies are forming a defense. However, there’s an arms war raging between the matching geniuses of Panur and Kracion, and the one with the most imagination and ability to implement their vision will come out the winner. In the meantime, Kracion is continuing with his scorched earth strategy of destroying every Expansion world he comes upon, leading up to the wholesale surrender of the Milky Way Galaxy to his god-like will. But Adam Cain and his friends have other ideas. Whether or not they have the time—or the ability—to carry out their plans remains to be seen….

  Prologue

  Panicking aliens of all shapes and sizes packed the streets, most wearing looks of terror on their faces, while others displayed rage, both in their appearance and their actions. Roving gangs of looters and rioters were burning buildings, destroying storefronts and homes, and assaulting any person they felt was an easy target. Smoke filled the city, and the sounds of screams and despair rang out everywhere.

  Summer Rains pushed her way through the crowd, most of whom were heading in the opposite direction. She nearly gagged from the foul odor and the press of alien flesh; she wasn’t used to this, not like other Humans she knew. But still, she trudged on.

  Soon it became apparent why the crowd was running away; a gang of native Tel’orans was just ahead, armed with clubs and sticks. They were clustered in small packs, wailing away on natives and aliens alike, stealing all they could from their victims or simply venting their frustration on anyone weaker than themselves. Summer focused on the weapons they were using. She figured bolt launchers would have long since exhausted their battery packs with the rioting going on continuously for the past three days. And the situation was only growing worse as the threat came closer to the planet.

  Summer had memorized the directions to her destination. Now she grimaced, knowing she had to continue up the street. She had no other option.

  She hoisted the bulky green duffle bag a little higher on her shoulders, held in place by dual straps that cut into her flesh. The bag was nearly as tall as she was—and riding above her as it did—she stood out from even the much taller aliens fleeing the rampaging horde. She was thankful for the lighter gravity of Tel’oran; the duffle bag was heavy enough as it was.

  And then the deadly horde spotted her. Tel’orans are thin, green-skinned creatures, a little taller than the average Human and much-less muscled. Normally, they’d be no match for a Human. But there were a lot of them, and Summer wasn’t armed, at least not conventionally.

  She surveyed the street. Her destination was in sight: a huge, three-story structure taking up a long city block about fifty yards ahead on the right. It was just her luck that this was where most of the rioting was taking place. She questioned whether the facility was still operating, although it had been the day before when she checked from her hotel room. However, this was a new day, and a little closer to Armageddon.

  She gnashed her teeth, mentally kicking herself for not going to the facility the day before. She thought she had time. But then during the night, all
hell broke loose. First, she woke to find the hotel overrun by looters, the staff having left during the night. The same thing was happening all across Tel’oran as natives and aliens alike abandoned the cities and headed for the deserts or mountain tops, hoping to be spared from the initial attack by the Mad Aris Kracion and his Klin forces. Next, she went to the spaceport, only to find that all the ships had departed, including the one she had a ticket to board. It seemed anyone with a starship was bolting for space. That left her stranded on the doomed planet, which had initially been a two-day stopover on her way deeper into the Expansion.

  Now the building on the right was her only hope, although, at the moment, it seemed a light-year away. To get there, she’d have to make it through the gang of killer natives, many of whom were now shifting their beady-eyed gazes her way, and to the inviting duffle bag on her back.

  She wiggled the duffle off her shoulders and set it on the concrete roadway, placing it behind her as seven of the natives approached. They came in tiny hopping motions, appearing not too fast or coordinated. But as she’d noted before, there were a lot more of them than there was of her.

  The closest Tel’orans hesitated about ten feet away, chatting among themselves in a language her implanted translator bug could decipher, but which she could barely make out above the din of the rioting. She did recognize the word Human, which was probably the reason her attackers hesitated. Humans were known as badasses throughout the galaxy, whether they be male or female. Yet Summer was only one Human and a five-foot-two, slender-built one at that. And as their numbers grew, the aliens’ courage reached a critical mass. They moved a little closer.

  When the first three were within range, Summer spun and grabbed the duffle bag, lifting it from the ground and swinging it like a fat green baseball bat. The gravity helped, and the impact was enough to send the natives flying through the air and into the side of a building on her left. She let the momentum carry her through a complete circle, making the other attackers back off. She made another rotation before stopping to catch her breath and regain her equilibrium. Then the Tel’orans came at her again, this time from opposite sides.

  Summer tossed the heavy bag at the first two, knocking them off their feet. But three more grabbed her arms, as another smacked her on the back of the head with a stick. The hit caused her to stumble forward, but it wasn’t debilitating. She kicked out with her right leg, contacting a Tel’oran in his soft stomach. He buckled over and fell to the ground. She followed that with a right jab to the face of another native. Summer was delighted to discover that with Tel’orans it was one hit and they were down for the count. Her mood soured when she noticed another group of natives rushing toward her from up the street.

  She suddenly recoiled from a brilliant flash of light coming from her right. It was followed by several more until all the attacking Tel’orans were either on the ground unconscious or running for their lives.

  Two Human Marines, dressed in tan and gray fatigues, raced toward her. The younger of the two—a corporal with brilliant blue eyes and smooth, almost-baby-like skin—bent over, offering her a hand.

  “Are you okay, Miss?” he asked in a slight Southern drawl.

  Summer nodded. “Where’s my bag?”

  “I’ve got it,” said the older—yet equally cute—Marine.

  Summer pulled it from him as if he were the enemy. She looked quizzically at the two men.

  “We saw you from the gate,” said baby-face Marine, answering her unasked question. “Your blonde hair stood out; you were hard to miss. C’mon, let’s get you inside.”

  Summer blinked as a cloud of acrid smoke swept past the trio, stinging her eyes. She nodded absently and accepted the Marine escort.

  They led her to a set of metal gates placed at the entrance to the small Human diplomatic Mission on the planet Tel’oran. Two other Marines stood guard, their flash weapons at the ready. As she approached the compound, Summer was sickened to see a dozen naked bodies lying to either side of the gate, both natives and off-worlders alike. She craned her neck at the dead as the Marines shoved her through the entrance.

  “Yesterday they made a real effort to get inside,” explained baby-face Marine, “but we fought them off. Others came in overnight and stripped the bodies clean.”

  There was a small security area beyond the gate, leading to a larger portal with another set of security bars. There was a central courtyard beyond the archway, easily measuring three hundred meters square. And sitting near the center of the clearing was a small space shuttle, its back ramp open while a sizable group of nervous-looking Humans was being herded inside by a handful of additional Marines.

  Summer made a quick survey of the surrounding building. It formed the outer wall of the compound, reaching three stories in height and with balconies running along the inner perimeter of each floor. There was an arched canopy over the courtyard, made of an opaque, gray material, keeping the interior hidden from prying eyes in the taller structures surrounding the compound. The building itself appeared vacant, with all the frenetic activity concentrated on the ground-level courtyard and the space shuttle.

  Summer’s two handsome saviors flanked her as a scrawny man with glasses rushed up to them. “Who the hell is this?” he barked at the Marines.

  “We found her outside the compound. The rioters were attacking her.”

  “So you brought her inside?” The man refused to look Summer in the eye. “Well, there’s no room for her. We’re already well over capacity. You should have left her outside.”

  “Excuse me, sir,” said the baby-face corporal, “but she’s a Human, and it’s our job to assist all the Humans on Tel’oran.”

  “If we can,” the civilian snapped back. “It’s all we can do getting the rest of the staff off the planet. We can’t be picking up strays.”

  “Strays!” Summer snapped. “I’m not a stray. I was here making flight connections, and the ship took off without me.”

  “I don’t care,” the supervisor said bluntly, looking at her for the first time. “I’d love to help, but we don’t have room aboard the shuttle.”

  The conversation was interrupted by flash fire at the main gate. All eyes turned in that direction. Several layers of desperate aliens were scaling the outer wall, and the two Marines on duty were firing indiscriminately into them with their Xan-fi flash rifles.

  “Sir,” said Summer’s corporal, his tone firm and determined, “we can’t leave her here. There has to be room for one more.”

  The supervisor eyed the Marine with savage contempt. Then he looked at Summer’s duffle bag and pointed. “Fine, but the bag stays here! That thing is as big as she is.”

  With pleading eyes, the Marine looked at Summer as if to say it was the best he could do.

  Summer nodded. She turned to the duffle and untied the top binding cords. She rifled around inside for a moment before withdrawing a black plastic case. It was a little less than a meter in length, by half that wide and no thicker than the length of her hand. “This goes with me,” she stated defiantly.

  “Whatever…just get your ass on board. We have to lift off. The natives have seen the shuttle, and they’re going to be all over the place in a matter of minutes.”

  Baby-face Marine took Summer by the elbow and led her to the back of the shuttle. She was one of the last to enter.

  The supervisor was right. To call the shuttlecraft over-capacity was an understatement. Around fifty people were crammed into a holding bay designed for twelve; the people packed in so tight that they could neither sit nor fall over.

  And then the supervisor and remaining Marines forced their way in just as the rear loading ramp rose up, sealing the compartment.

  Summer clutched the case to her chest while being jostled by others in the bay. Then her cute Marine friend shoved his way next to her.

  “This way, ma’am,” he said. He took her by the elbow again and forced his way through the crowd, heading for a small control panel on the forward bulkhead of
the passenger bay. A screen was lit, displaying a view of the courtyard taken from somewhere atop the building. Dozens of aliens were storming the compound and racing toward the shuttle. Summer could hear their fists pounding on the hull.

  Inside the shuttle, the atmosphere was stifling, a mixture of heat, humidity and sour perspiration. There were men and women; she even noticed a pair of teenagers in the mix. She was surprised to see a pair of aliens within the passenger count—not Tel’orans, but aliens, nonetheless. She smirked, wondering how many Juirean credits greased the palm of the slimy supervisor for them to gain access to the last Human shuttle off the planet?

  Summer was pressed in against the cute Marine, who was at the monitoring station, watching the chaotic scene outside the shuttle. She could feel the engines rumbling, yet the shuttle was still on the ground. The Marine pressed a comm button on the bulkhead.

  “We’re all aboard; what’s the holdup?” he yelled over the deafening roar of the engines and the stifled screams within the passenger bay.

  “The canopy…only half of it retracted!” said a panicky voice through the speaker. “We can’t lift until it’s opened completely.”