Peacekeepers (18 page)

~ABOUT THE AUTHOR~

Walter Knight
played football on Tucson High School’s last state championship team (1971). He served three years in the army, and the GI Bill paid for his college education, helping him earn degrees from Fort Steilacoom Community College, Central Washington State College, and the University of Puget Sound School of Law.

Walter lives a very quiet and private life, residing with his family and horses, dogs, cats, and fish atop a hill in rural Washington. Walt enjoys taking road trips to explore ghost towns and casinos.

To find out more about the author and his books, visit his web site.

www.waltknight.yolasite.com

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~BOOK PREVIEW~

THE MCKENZIE FILES

by

Barry K. Nelson

The United Protectorate is under attack by the Brelac, a bloodthirsty reptilian alien race bent on destroying humanity. A dark alliance between the Brelac and Vendetta, a separatist organization trying to bring down the Protectorate, spells doom for the human race – especially when it’s discovered the Brelac have created genetically engineered humanoid weapons called Reploids. Reploids are identical copies of real humans captured, killed, cloned, embedded with powerful psionic abilities, and programmed to serve the Brelac. They are untraceable and blend into human society so believably, the Reploids themselves do not know they are clones.

Colin McKenzie, part of a military team sent to a remote planet to investigate and capture a downed Brelac shuttle, turns on his commanding officer in an attempt to protect the shipwrecked crew of Brelac soldiers. But Colin is captured and reprogrammed – along with two other Reploids captured in stasis – to serve the government he was originally created to destroy. When a weapon powerful enough to bring the Protectorate to its knees is about to be unleashed, the Protectorate’s only hope of stopping it is this band of three Reploids.

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Prologue

Leon Maseklos felt a painful stiffness in his knees as he walked down the dimly lit corridor of the massive transport. His loss of agility was understandable, considering he had just awakened from a frozen sleep of nearly three hundred years. He drew in a deep breath, his lungs feeling raw as he sucked in the chilly filtered and recirculated air. Briskly rubbing his shoulders, he regretted failing to choose an additional garment to bolster his gray coveralls. But he soon forgot his discomfort as his excitement mounted.

There was only one reason why he’d been awakened from his long slumber – robotic probes launched from the ship had finally discovered a suitable planet for colonization. As the head of this expedition and commander of the fleet of six huge, rectangular transport vessels, it was his duty and privilege to wake first. After he confirmed the probe’s findings, he would rouse several key crewmembers from their cryo-suspension tubes. Later, selected individuals from the other five ships, each carrying the precious cargo of sleeping passengers and identical supplies and life-support materials, would be revived. Once they decided on a location for the colony base, constructed a suitable number of habitats and food propagation units, and transitioned aeroponics plants to the planet’s soil, the rest of the expedition would be revived. And then the real work would begin to relocate this select human populace from Earth to a new home.

The door to the ship’s main bridge slid open. Leon strode past several rows of instrument consoles to reach the data-analysis station. Manipulating the touchscreen, he summoned the desired information in a holographic projection directly before him. The long-ranged probes had indeed discovered a suitable planet. Its mass appeared to be slightly larger than that of Earth. Its annual trip around its sun would be slightly longer than Earth’s, and the axis tilt and rotational angle were definitely different, but they would cope. A global body of water separated several mountainous land formations. The atmospheric composition was within the desired parameters – large amounts of oxygen mixed with nitrogen and a small amount of argon. Present temperature across the globe was well within human tolerance, despite some extremes due to topography and elevation. Soil and water analysis yielded no toxic materials or potentially harmful microorganisms. At least nothing as deadly as the Pandora Simplex.

As Leon studied the target planet’s image, he felt a wistful twinge in his chest. The bright side of the orb, illuminated by a star very similar to the sun they’d left behind three hundred years ago, looked much like the Earth he remembered from historical pictures ... a large marble against the black backdrop of space, its vivid swirls of blue and green mixed with white. It would be a good home.
It had to be.

He rechecked the ship’s status and then ran remote diagnostics to test the integrity of the cryo-chambers deep within the belly of each of the transports holding formation in orbit around the planet. Everything looked normal. As he breathed a long sigh of relief, he again noted the scratchiness of his lungs, hopefully just a temporary aftereffect of extended cryo-sleep. The worry flitted through his mind that by stepping foot on this planet, they’d somehow instantly contaminate it. But he dismissed that thought. They had survived against insurmountable odds, and they
deserved
a new home after the senseless and inevitable demise of Earth.

He turned away when vivid memories flooded his mind. The waste and devastation ... the death. Historical reports he’d studied stated the gargantuan mass of jagged metal and ice, measuring more than four miles in diameter, had entered the Earth’s solar system in 2189 without any advance warning. The intruder seemed to purposefully speed past Jupiter and Mars on a direct course to its intended target – Earth – impacting with a force that surpassed a nuclear explosion. Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, and a huge portion of its metropolitan area were obliterated. The horrendous death toll was too high for anyone to accurately count. Earth’s environment was soon plunged into a global-winter effect as tons of soot and debris from the blast formed thick clouds that blocked out the life-giving sunlight.

Nations were plunged into chaos with food shortages and mass extinction of hundreds of species of plant and animal life. The worst came a later when a mysterious viral outbreak quickly spread among survivors. Victims suffered from bleeding blisters, fatigue, and loss of muscle coordination. Paranoia and psychotic behavior soon followed, culminating in murderous violence. The majority of those infected died within days. Others continued long enough to create havoc upon those not affected. It was believed that the viral organism was somehow released into the atmosphere by the icy asteroid. But that theory was never proven. Because of its ghastly symptoms, the pandemic illness was called the Pandora Simplex.

Earth’s scientists committed a global effort to find an effective serum against the virus, but without success. Unsuspecting travelers carried the virus to the numerous colonies established on Mars. Within a year, forty-five percent of Earth’s remaining population was dead, and the Mars colonies were all but wiped out. The virus and the frigid conditions on Earth threatened to exterminate the human species. Humanity’s only hope for survival was to turn to the deep-space exploration program that was then under development. Thousands of healthy volunteers were gathered and placed under strict quarantine aboard orbital space stations. The six fleets of deep-space transports were constructed and loaded with the necessary supplies and equipment to colonize new worlds, and in less than five years, those surviving humans began their mission to find new homes. Each of the six separate fleets of ships disembarked for different destinations in the vast darkness of space. And now the long journey was at an end for this team.

Leon nodded in satisfaction. Humanity would get a fresh start. Once the members of the expedition team awoke from cold sleep and mastered the challenge of establishing a stable colony on this planet, they’d continue their mission to explore deep space and claim other hospitable planets for colonization. Perhaps they’d manage to locate and establish contact with the other five teams that had embarked on their own journeys. And humanity would live on...

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Chapter 1

“Does it always rain on this damn planet?” Sergeant Colin McKenzie grumbled as he sprinted through the drenched forest behind the other members of his platoon. His dark brown hands maintained a firm grip on his AR-20 laser rifle as he shouldered past wet foliage that grabbed and slapped at him. His combat boots squished in the soggy ground, making progress slippery and difficult. He silently cursed the heavy dark green plastic protective vest weighing down his six-foot frame as if he were carrying an extra field pack on each shoulder. His rain-soaked green camo fatigues hugged his clammy skin, and his matching helmet did little to shield his face and eyes from the perpetual torrent raining down on them. Of all the planets in the United Protectorate, Colin was unlucky enough to be stationed on Meridan, a sparsely populated planet with an environment of weed-ridden fields and swamps infested by hordes of insects and parasites. The climate was always chilly, with the average temperature in the low Fahrenheit fifties, though Colin felt the frequent rains made the climate feel much colder.

Colin’s squad approached their destination. He joined the other troopers as they took cover behind a line of trees and shrubbery, diving to the ground to take his place behind the broad leaves of a tall fern. Lying on the muddy ground, Colin peered around the foliage to detect any movement up ahead, but saw only ivy-covered trees and more tall ferns. Nothing moved. If there was any enemy activity out there, he was certain the noisy rain was concealing the sound of their movements.

Colin glanced over at his comrades. They were all quiet and still, expecting to engage in a raging firefight at a second’s notice. To Colin’s far right, Lieutenant Paul Yates crouched down behind a tree, his laser rifle aimed toward the forest beyond. Colin’s voice-activated wrist communicator, a small oblong device with a manual silencer and a display screen, transmitted the lieutenant’s voice. “McKenzie, see anything?”

“All clear on my end,” Colin whispered. He felt no need to speak louder. The communicator, keyed to his voice, would pick up his words and filter out background noise. But although Colin was confident his response would be picked up by Lieutenant Yates, he knew that not seeing their enemy did not mean that there was no threat. The Brelac were as stealthy as they were brutal – or so he’d been told.

Like most troopers, Colin knew very little about the Brelac, even after the reptilian race had violently encroached on the United Protectorate over a year ago. They attacked with the force of a tidal wave. The Protectorate was overwhelmed by the alien military force, though troopers fought back bravely on both land and in space. However, they had been pitifully unprepared to deal with the Brelac’s ferocity and technology. The Protectorate suffered crushing defeats, losing seven star systems and twelve planets to the Brelac. Many large cities, with their gleaming towers and bustling populations, were reduced to rubble. Now, it would seem that Meridan was next on the Brelac list of places to waste.

Colin was startled when he felt someone touch his right shoulder. He twisted quickly, swinging his gun around.

“Take it easy, pal,” Ed Driscoll warned, holding up his hands defensively. “It’s just me.”

Colin managed a quick smile. Driscoll had become Colin’s closest shadow if not friend, seeming to be nearby whenever possible, almost to the point of being a nuisance. Back at their main base on Helios, Driscoll would eat with Colin, help him with weapons maintenance duties, and stick close by him every minute, even off-duty in nearby taverns and recreation halls, all the while denigrating the other members of the platoon. There were occasions when Colin almost felt like Driscoll was keeping him under surveillance. It was no surprise to Colin that the man shadowed him here too, under the threat of impending battle.

“Let’s move out,” Yates whispered through their communicators. Colin nodded to Driscoll and motioned to the men on his left. The troopers began to advance cautiously among the wet trees and foliage toward the squad’s designated destination at the top of a small rocky hill. A black rectangular aircraft rested at the bottom of a rock pile, its nose buried beneath a mound of soil. The broad wings were sheared off. Bits of metal wreckage littered the area, and thick billows of black smoke rose out from the ship’s two damaged engine ports. It was a Brelac shuttle, shot down by a Protectorate fighter patrol. The squad’s mission was to investigate the crash site and see if any Brelac had survived, and to capture any cargo that was found to be reasonably intact.

Yates ordered the soldiers to spread out and descend the hill. Colin kept his eyes on the shuttle as he carefully made his way down, alert for any movement. Yates raised his hand, and the squad stopped twenty feet away from the shuttle. “A type-three enemy shuttle,” he announced after making a brief inspection.

The small craft had only one way to get inside – the main hatch located underneath the cabin. Since the platoon had no means of lifting a ship of this size, they would have to create their own door.

“Bossar, Craven. Take demo charges and blow the hull,” Yates ordered.

The two men rushed up to the ship and took small magnetic devices from their weapons belts, attaching them to attach them to the ship’s hull. They pressed a couple buttons and then ran to rejoin the rest of the platoon.

“Hit the ground!”

The squad ducked and covered their heads. The devices exploded, their twin blasts potent enough to rip a gaping hole in the side of the ship. Colin raised his head. He watched the smoke clear from the hole. Still no sign of any Brelac.

“Usher, Sealman, Driscoll, Craven,” Yates ordered, “you’re with me. The rest of you stay alert.”

Driscoll placed his hand on Colin’s shoulder. His grip was firm. “Time to go to work, pal. Looks like it’s just you and me.”

Driscoll rose up and joined the other three troopers as they escorted Yates over to the hole in the ship. Colin felt relieved to be momentarily free of Driscoll’s imposing presence. He watched Driscoll and the other men. Yates entered the ship first, the others following close behind. Colin kept his rifle aimed at the ship.

After several tense seconds the lieutenant relayed their status into Colin’s communicator. “So far, all clear. Still no Brelac. Everybody move in, but stay alert.”

Colin slowly advanced toward the ship. When he was close enough, he peered inside the hole in the ship’s side and caught a glimpse of the shuttle’s cargo. There were eight tall, white cylinders standing on what appeared to be a magnetic platform. The platform’s strong magnetic field may have prevented the cylinders from falling over during the crash, but couldn’t protect them from the damaging impact. Three of the cylinders were cracked, and a bright yellow liquid oozed out, soaking the shuttle’s floor.

“Wonder what’s inside these containers?” Sealman asked.

“Beat’s the hell outa me,” the lieutenant replied. “They’re leaking shit all over the place. If there are any Brelac here, they might be in the cockpit.”

“Let’s hope they’re dead,” Usher muttered. “What about these cylinders? Can you see what’s inside?”

“No. Maybe we can break one of them open,” Yates suggested. “Driscoll, Craven. Give us a hand. Sealman, Usher. Go check out the cockpit.”

Driscoll placed his hand on Craven’s shoulder. Craven suddenly screamed and fell backward. The instant Craven hit the floor, his torso shattered. His plastic combat armor easily splintered into minute fragments, followed by his head and arms.

The other men stood in horrified silence. Yates spun around and aimed his rifle at Driscoll. Driscoll delivered a forceful kick to the lieutenant’s chest and knocked him outside through the blown-out hole in the ship’s hull. Yates fell on his back, splashing down in a large puddle of mud. He quickly rolled and aimed his rifle at Driscoll a second time. Colin spun and aimed his rifle at Yates and opened fire. Four crimson bolts of laser fire easily ripped through the lieutenant’s body. The man emitted a painful grunt and lay motionless.

Colin was unsure if Yates was dead or simply wounded, but he didn’t have enough interest in the man’s condition to check. All that mattered was the mission he shared with Driscoll. It was their job to do everything in their power to prevent the United Protectorate from capturing the cylinders aboard this Brelac ship. And in order to accomplish that aim, Colin was well prepared to use every power at his disposal.

A trooper standing near Yates raised his weapon. Colin moved faster, firing two laser bolts into the man’s chest, and the trooper dropped to the ground. Someone pounced on Colin from behind, wrapping a strong arm around his neck in a stranglehold. Colin’s entire body rapidly warmed. A powerful surge of energy erupted from him, and he and his assailant were bathed in a flash of light and an explosion of sparks. Blue fire licked at the screaming man on Colin’s back, and Colin shrugged himself free. He turned briefly to glimpse his handiwork. An acrid smoke stung his nostrils, the flames on the body already being extinguished by the heavy rain. All that remained were fragments of charred flesh and globs of melted plastic clinging to a blackened skeleton.

Sealman fired his laser rifle at Driscoll. Driscoll staggered back as three bolts burned into his chest, and raised his rifle at Sealman. His wounds slowed his movement, giving Sealman ample time to dive behind the collection of cylinders. Driscoll fired off a volley of laser bolts that burned easily through several cylinders but failed to hit Sealman. Two troopers outside the shuttle opened fire at Driscoll. Driscoll thrashed about as several bolts hit him squarely. He let out a defiant shout and feebly raised his weapon, and then stumbled and fell forward. His riddled body lay halfway out of the ship, his blood-soaked armor pelted by the gray downpour.

Colin glanced down at Driscoll, doubting the man could have survived such an assault, but knew there was no time to mourn. Colin looked around at the multiple hostile targets surrounding him. He moved to act, but was suddenly attacked from behind. Colin felt a sharp and powerful impact jar the back of his head. He collapsed face down onto a mound of mud. Turning his head, he saw his assailant, a baby-faced trooper staring wide-eyed down at him, with his rifle shaking in his nervous hands, the barrel never leaving Colin’s face. Colin grinned, knowing the frightened young man posed a small threat to him. He could kill this trooper as easily as he did the first.

Colin pushed himself to his knees and lifted his hands to attack when four blue laser streaks hit the trooper in the neck and head. The last shot easily split the top of the trooper’s helmet and the head underneath. The man fell to the ground, blood and brain matter mingling with the rainwater and wet soil.

Commotion behind him caught Colin’s attention, and he twisted around toward the shuttle in time to see saw two dark, scaly reptilian Brelac pilots nearly six feet tall barreling through the open hole in the side of the ship. Time seemed to stop for an instant as the barrel-chested, bony-plated creatures with spikes running down their backs, bared long sharp teeth in their pointed maws and, despite having no eyes in their lizard-like heads, surveyed the troopers outside as if they could plainly see them. Supported by muscular, reverse-jointed canine-like legs that ended in three short toes with long curved talons, they thrashed their long tails about as if itching for a fight. Weapons belts strapped around their waists carried holstered pistols, cylinder-shaped grenades, and long gleaming blades. Their clawed hands clutched typical Brelac field weapons. The long-barreled plasma rifles, far more powerful than Protectorate lasers, were notorious for their ability to kill targets from a longer range and could burn through heavy armor easier than lasers.

The clicking of their toe claws against the ship’s metallic floor seemed to reset time for everyone. Instantly they fired on any trooper that moved. Screaming troopers scattered as they returned fire. The Brelac managed to gun down three troopers before a one man skillfully sent a laser bolt into the closest Brelac’s head. The wounded Brelac stumbled backward as his body absorbed the firepower from other troopers’ rifles. His Brelac compatriot shot and killed a trooper standing just behind Colin. As the man’s body fell to the ground, Colin saw the Brelac now training that plasma rifle in his direction. Colin knew that in the midst of a group of hostile armed humans, the Brelac would not bother distinguish between enemy and ally. Colin pointed his hand toward the Brelac. A blue flash and a stream of energy flew from his hand, creating a spray of sparks the moment it struck the Brelac. Colin’s firepower was joined by dozens of laser bolts as the other troopers concentrated their fire to bring the Brelac down.

Colin tried to stand up but was knocked down by the butt of a rifle slamming into the back of his neck. Colin looked up and was surprised to see that Yates had survived his wounds. The lieutenant stood over Colin, slamming the butt of his rifle into Colin’s face, screaming, “I’m gonna kill you, freak!”

Yates used the butt of his rifle to rain down a series of quick blows to Colin’s face. He held the rifle over his head and pulled his leg back to send his boot slamming into Colin’s stomach. “Son of a bitch!” Yates screamed. “I’ll kill you, traitor!”

Colin’s face burned with pain as the lieutenant continued to beat him with the rifle butt. Each blow felt as if fragments of his face were being torn away from the inside. Blood and rainwater soaked his eyes. His vision blurred, and he lost sight of his enraged attacker as everything went black.