The Spies of Pangea

By Matthew Mangum

Robert Griffin must navigate the troubled waters of the Galactic Republic Senate. Politics, espionage, and a Cold War heating up, all while trying to survive assassination attempts. Young Mathoni learns his true heritage and sets off, quickly becoming the Republic’s best undercover agent inside the Socialist Alliance. Beliefs will be tested, and new threats will come to light. Will the galaxy survive the clash of ideals that is coming?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Matthew Mangum
• Release date: Oct 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311860644

Matthew Mangum

Matthew Mangum is just a regular guy with big dreams. He works full time in the broadcast and live event industry and writes during his morning commute on the train.

Book preview

The Spies of Pangea

A novel by Matthew Mangum

Copyright 2015 All Rights Reserved

Cover art by Acharya Hargreaves

Published by The Keeper’s Universe Publishing Group

Smashwords Edition License Notes:

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Table of Contents:

Author’s Note

Chapter 1: Eliar Meine

Chapter 2: The Assassination of Robert Griffin, or at Least the Attempt

Chapter 3: Mathoni Learns the Truth

Chapter 4: Fontana D’or Meets Emily Giagua

Chapter 5: Robert Proposes

Chapter 6: Secret Agent Training

Chapter 7: The Discovery of Kasian

Chapter 8: Robert and the Governor

Chapter 9: Mathoni Goes Undercover

Chapter 10: An Incendiary Incident or Two

Chapter 11: A Coup at Atlantis II

Chapter 12: Robert Takes a Plunge

Chapter 13: The Alltradeuins Pay a Visit

Chapter 14: The Invasion

Chapter 15: Bloodlines and Witches

Chapter 16: Declarations of War

Chapter 17: For So Great a Cause

Chapter 18: The Pain of Love

Chapter 19: Out of the Ashes

Special thanks to the many individuals who helped me create this story to share with you. Especially Drew Eckhardt and Jonelle Edwards, their imaginations created the characters of Eliar Meine and Allena Dartin and brought to The Keeper’s Universe the Alltradeuin Empire. Drew also helped greatly in the editing of this book, especially the battle plans and tactics. And a special thanks to all the members over the years of The Keeper’s Universe forum, an online roleplaying game. This entire story came from the stories we created. Thanks guys. I also have to thank Jace Lane, Dustin Dugger (who also helped in the editing) and Stefanie Dugger. Twenty years ago we sat around the cafeteria table with some six sided dice and character sheets fighting for freedom in a galaxy ruled by tyranny. Those adventures built the backstory for The Keeper’s Universe.

And a special thanks to my family for their encouragement, especially my amazing wife who still lets my imagination occasionally run wild.

Author’s Note:

While this story is technically a sequel to the novel Pangea Liberation, I have done all that I could to make sure it stands alone. Some characters are old friends, but many are new. I hope that you enjoy their adventures.

Chapter One

Eliar Meine

Eliar Meine was the most wanted man in the Galactic Republic Alliance, and they didn’t even know what he looked like. Eliar ran a hand through his short dark hair and his green eyes studied the control panel of his attack shuttle. The blur of hyperspace filled the view screen in front of him. The swirls of energy that passed were fascinating to study but he did not enjoy being cramped into a ship. It was not long to go before his pilgrimage would be complete. He would pay his final respects to his slain comrades and family on his home planet of Minus Tenu, which had been scorched, with no survivors. Eliar would make sure that they received the vengeance they deserved.

The countdown timer beeped and Eliar pulled the lever bringing the ship back into real space, right on target. A blackened planet with boiling red clouds filled the view screen, nothing like the vast forests which had once grown across the hemispheres. The proximity alarms sounded and Eliar reacted by reflex born of years of experience, raising shields and powering up the weapons. A glance at the screen revealed six Socialist Battle Cruisers in an attack formation on the port side. The communication panel came to life. This is restricted space, identify yourself or be destroyed.

Eliar wondered if his rogue status had spread through the ranks of the Socialist fleet yet or if his ID code was still good. It was worth a try, no sense in being taken out by six capital ships against his one shuttle; although he would make a good accounting of himself. This is Stryker-18. Identification code Gamma, Bravo, Echo oh-seven-five-five. Security clearance code: ‘The dew in the morning light’.

There was a long pause at the other end of the connection and then the young voice of the communications officer came back. "Your clearance checks out Stryker-18. Please dock your shuttle on board the flagship Burning Moon. Admiral Nielsen would like to speak with you."

Copy that. Eliar responded while he powered down his weapons, lowered his shields and turned his ship towards the directed Battle Cruiser. What did the Admiral know? Was this a trap or just the respect due to his status? He waited for his system to be taken over by the dock controls of the cruiser and headed back into the main quarters of the shuttle. Eliar checked his armor and opened the storage locker where he kept his weapons. He armed himself: rifle and clips on his right thigh, pistol strapped to his chest, knives across his body in their concealed housings. Within the soft pack on his left leg he placed his med kit and two breaching charges. He tested his gauntlets for the blades hidden within them and they extended without sound before sliding back into their housings. He went through the routine each time he went on a mission. No sense in going unprepared. The Admiral was probably either going to praise him or kill him, best to be ready for either scenario. The last thing to check was his helmet. Scratched and having seen better days, it still felt better to keep it close by for the many benefits a helmet could give. He adorned the helmet and let the seal around his neck pressurize before running a quick check on its systems.

The shuttle jerked to a sudden stop into the docking bay clamps and Eliar watched the digital displays reporting the atmospheric changes outside the shuttle. When they reported that the condition was livable he popped the seal on his ship and stepped out. The docking bay was frigid having been exposed to the vacuum of space and the ceiling heaters were blasting out hot air to warm the deck. Being enclosed in armor that could handle most environments had no effect on a Stryker but he also realized most Socialist envoys were those dressed in uniforms ill-suited for cold temperatures. The docking crew looked on and whispered to themselves at seeing a Stryker in person having only heard rumors before. He marched with confidence to the airlock that separated the docking bay from the ship and slipped through into the pressurized zone.

As the inner airlock door opened Eliar enjoyed the look of surprise that crossed the three officers and six marines’ faces when he stepped inside. It was the V slit visor that put people on edge. It gave away no emotion, and one could never tell where the user was looking. Eliar simply waited for them to make the next move, his muscles tensed in case he needed to defend himself.

The Marine lieutenant forced a smile, Welcome aboard sir, please follow me. The Admiral is looking forward to meeting you.

Lead the way, Lieutenant, Eliar stated blandly. Eliar admired the crisp turn of the Marines and he fell in step with them as they made their way down the corridor, boots clicking on the corrugated steel floor panels. The ship was built for durability and functionality. Very little had gone into aesthetics as was the design of all Socialists ships. Steel girders lined the walls and conduits full of the essential cabling hung above the corridors. Intense white lights were hard mounted on the ceiling just often enough to create slight shadows followed by blinding brightness as one made their way through the ship.

They stopped in front of a lift and Eliar’s sense of direction told him that they were near the front of the ship. The Lieutenant swiped a badge against a card reader and the doors slid open.

Step in, please. This lift goes directly to the Admiral’s briefing room. He is waiting for you.

Interesting, Eliar thought as he stepped into the lift. The guards were not coming with him for his meeting with the Admiral. The doors closed behind him and the lift quickly accelerated. He felt the pull in his stomach and was discomforted by the sensation as it settled again. The speed of the lift disguised just how many floors above the docking bay the Admiral’s briefing room was but Eliar was sure it was near the bridge at the top of the ship. The lift came to a jarring stop and Eliar had to bend his knees to keep his balance.

The doors split apart and Eliar stepped into one of the few rooms on the ship where decor mattered. The room’s walls were cherry wood panels and fine art hung around the room. Soft music played in the background and there was even a stand with a glowing purple plant that moved with the music in one corner. An intricately carved wood desk filled the back of the room with a long table connecting it with the rest of the room. The grain detailing in the wood was impressive even to Eliar. Luxuriously padded chairs were neatly organized before terminal screens embedded in the table that glowed dimly showing they were on standby. The one thing in the room that was missing was the Admiral. That arrogance brought anger to Eliar’s face and was glad he had kept his helmet on; he quickly composed himself, no sense in letting the Admiral get the upper hand in whatever was coming.

The temptation to use one of the terminals to gather intelligence was severe, but Eliar refrained. There was no sense in getting caught here, he was sure the Admiral was watching from somewhere waiting to see what the fabled Stryker-18 was doing. The Admiral technically outranked him, but the whole Stryker program reported directly to General Kayne. And General Kayne reported directly to Director D’or.

Eliar moved away from the lift door and continued to take in all the details that he could from his position. He didn’t need to tilt his head because his helmet gave him a complete view around him and could analyze whatever of interest came up. The Admiral clearly had a love of art. Eliar was sure that the various famous paintings on the wall were the originals. Most commanding officers simply had a screen that displayed art and then would become an active monitor if needed. These pieces were canvas and the frames were nearly works of art themselves.

There was a hiss of pressure and out of the corner of his visual feed Eliar saw that one of the wood panels had recessed and was now sliding open. Admiral Gerald Nielson stepped through in full uniform from whatever hidden room he had behind his ready room. Eliar turned and gave him a sharp salute.

At ease, Stryker 18. The Admiral stated with authority while returning the salute. Eliar returned to his relaxed demeanor but watched the Admiral make his way around the desk like a predator. Why don’t you take a seat? The Admiral gestured to one of the chairs aside of the desk and then sat down himself at the head. Eliar refused with a raised hand, waving off the offer. He still wasn’t sure if he was in danger yet, but he did not want to raise any flags with the Admiral by changing his demeanor and sitting down. So Stryker, what brings you home to Minus Tenu?

I came to pay final respects before setting out on my next mission. Eliar stated as he watched the expressions on Admiral Neilson’s face carefully. Director D’or has approved my request to bring justice for the destruction of my home, family and comrades.

The Admiral’s lips tightened almost imperceptibly and he blinked before responding. I am very sorry for your loss. I read reports that your comrades were practically brothers to you. I can’t allow you onto the planet though. The toxicity of the atmosphere would eat away at your ship and kill you instantly if you were exposed to it, even with that impressive armor of yours.

Eliar’s suspicion’s had been confirmed. He knew the specs for his armor and its tolerances. He also knew the stresses that could be endured by the properly modulated shields of his shuttle. For reasons he did not yet understand the Socialist Alliance had taken it upon themselves to destroy the planet and frame the Galactic Republic. He had made a mistake in killing the Republic High Admiral Boronaught for the crime. He learned a long time ago that thinking of the past would get him nowhere and Boronaught was certainly guilty of plenty of other crimes only because most people of such high ranks were. The question now was how high up the line did the conspiracy go, and why would they authorize it? Fontana D’or did not press his initial mission to enter Republic space to go after Boronaught and Eliar had taken that at face value. Did she know the truth and was just certain that he would never link her to it, that he would be killed, or did it stop short of her? Eliar had great respect for General Kayne, but certainly as the head of the military he knew what really happened here.

Eliar focused his attention back on the Admiral. Tell me, sir, what happened down there?

The Admiral nodded sternly and composed himself. As far as we can tell the Republic found out about the Stryker program and decided that it was too much of a threat to them. A fleet of fifteen ships exited hyperspace near the planet and began an immediate bombardment. The planet’s defenses were crippled before there was even time to react to the attack. The ships jumped to hyperspace before my fleet was able to respond to the distress calls.

Eliar kept still as he listened. It was always best to use as much truth as possible in your story. He wondered if he would get the same story out of the junior officers if he had them in an interrogation room and no rules on what he could do to them. The intelligence that Eliar had found led him to assume that the fleet around Minus Tenu was the same fleet that had scorched the planet. The man sitting before him was a murderer of millions even if there had been some good reason to want the Stryker program taken out. It was time to leave, and in one swift motion Eliar pulled his pistol from its holster and fired twice. Two neat holes appeared in Neilson’s chest and stained red immediately. A look of surprise crossed the Admiral’s face as he gulped in a fit of air and touched the sticky fluid spreading across his uniform. Eliar waited as Neilson tried to put his gasps of air into words before his eyes glassed over and the man slumped in his chair. Eliar stood up and moved over to the body to confirm the death. He felt the vibration of the deck, listened for the lift or for secret doors to open spilling out marines but nothing had changed. Eliar was truly alone with the Admiral.

Eliar dumped the Admiral off his chair and stood over the holographic keyboard. Fortunately the Admiral had logged in and had been keeping a file of the conversation the entire time. He opened the ships logs and began scrolling over the dates of the fleet. The order for the attack was easily found on the Admiral’s computer. It was simple but confusing. Genetic and biological experiment with Stryker program gone wrong. Entire planet infected. Quarantine and implement Scorched Earth procedures. The order was issued from General Kayne’s office. His mentor General Kayne had ordered the death of everyone he loved and Eliar too if he had been home.

Eliar paused at the final order and clenched his fists against the desk. This was not the time for emotions, he reminded himself. He must keep himself in control and take his revenge on everyone. Exactly who ‘everyone’ was would be determined as time passed. The time and place for General Kayne would come, but not today. Today though, was the time to seek vengeance on those who had carried out the order. Using the Admiral’s terminal he sent instructions to the rest of the ship. He informed them that the biological contaminate on the planet was spreading to the other ships. He ordered a lock down of the ship and ordered an open fire on the other five ships of the fleet. It was imperative that the contagion be exterminated.

Waves of destructive energy fired into the fleet without warning. Without shields and with the close proximity they were quickly turned into space scrap. Eliar watched the fireworks show from the Admiral’s desk. Five down, one to go. There would be marines coming soon he was sure. He typed in commands to give himself full access to the ships systems while on route to leave and placed the ship in emergency lock down. Blood red light switched on as regular power was cut, casting the isolated room in shadows. Eliar blended in well before moving to the lift doors. Pity to destroy the art, but there was no way he could get it back to his shuttle and still take out the flagship. The door to the lift slid open and Eliar stepped inside. He pushed the button for level three and double checked his weapons as the lift started its descent. There would be guards and technicians in the torpedo rooms. He wondered how many he was going to have to take out before getting where he needed to be.

The lift slowed