Defenders of Valinthia: Valinthia Trilogy, #1

By Daniel A. Roberts

A newly discovered lush green planet circling a blue star comes off the quarantine list. With stone castles and no signs of advanced industry, they become a prime target for their abundant natural resources. 

Galactopolis, the hub of all interstellar commerce and government, auctions Valinthia to a Profit Manager with an agenda for conquest and galactic credits. His new mercenary fleet pounces with sophisticated ion weaponry to subjugate the savages for slave labor. Finding out the hard way that the inhabitants weren't the pushovers they expected, the coming battles would be a struggle the galaxy will never forget!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Daniel A. Roberts
• Release date: Mar 27, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524224684

Book preview

Chapter One

AGENT FISHER WATCHED with emotional detachment as another service android scanned his identification card.  The square piece of plastic was firmly attached to the right breast pocket of his best business suit.  It didn't matter that his dark hair was combed back neatly, his dress shoes glistening under the space station's artificial lighting, or that his teeth were brushed pearly white.  If his credentials weren't correct two checkpoints ago, the cheerfully homicidal androids would have killed him by now. 

Humanoid, the metallic voice told him, as if he didn't know, this is a private auction.  Interstellar governments will be bidding.  All sales are final.  Payment remitted electronically the moment you win.  Failure to have sufficient funds means failure to leave alive.  Do you understand? 

Quite clearly.  He was completely unconcerned about the money aspect of the auction.  This wasn't the place to go if money might be a problem.  The brutal policy was never enforced because nobody was stupid enough to participate unless they were filthy rich to begin with. 

The doors are now unlocked to you.  Happy bidding.  Floating aside to let him through this last checkpoint, the two foot blinking mass of steel armored electronics deactivated its proton gun. 

As he entered the large auction floor, two dozen sets of eyes, optic sensors and photosensitive stalks turned his way to check out the new arrival.  This is where the major powers of the galaxy bid over new discoveries made by the central government, Galactopolis.  Used as a means to end costly wars over who controlled undiscovered planets, for centuries they saved massive resources and expense by auctioning them instead. 

It was a good deal all around.  Galactopolis would send their vast scouting fleets to explore the galaxy and place interesting discoveries up for bid.  Various space faring races no longer fought each other to the bitter end to claim a cheap planet that might not even replenish half of what it cost to wage the war.  Now the only expense was in galactic currency, and if won, the new owners could realize the full potential of their new world. 

If the planet was inhabited, the formula for a good profit would change.  The new owners could invade at their pleasure and take what they wanted by force.  If the inhabitants were in any way of an advanced culture, it could cost materials and lives to take physical ownership.  In some rare cases, such tactical maneuvers were too costly as the defenders developed a lucky new weapon of immense power, or engineered a virus that would kill off the invading forces while leaving local natives unharmed. 

Agent Fisher's job was in the profitability of such major purchases.  As one of the leading experts in the entire galaxy, he took his job as Profit Manager seriously.  His services weren't cheap and even some of the smaller intergalactic races couldn't afford his retainer fee.  Today he was representing one of the most successful governments in the known universe.  They even occupied one of the coveted seats on the ruling council inside the Galactopolis hierarchy.  His orders were simple from the Confederation of Allied Solar Systems.  Find a low to no tech planet with at least a billion inhabitants for slave labor.  They wanted an easy invasion for a nice profitable turn over. 

Not a problem with Agent Fisher on the job! 

The lights of the sales floor went slightly dimmer as the chime sounded.  The auction was about to start.  All the different races sat in a large circle, each member controlling a numerical bidding pad.  Agent Fisher entered his purchasing code and the system activated the pad for his own bids. 

A holographic planet appeared in the center of the room, an all tan surface with no water.  The electronic voice of the robotic auctioneer echoed throughout the chamber.  Minor minerals with a class B methane atmosphere.  No life forms detected.  No liquids on the surface.  No volcanic activity.  Bidding may start.

He sat back and didn't bother touching the pad.  Numbers appeared over the planet while various races did their best to claim it for themselves.  A methane atmosphere was good for energy production, but that was about it.  The values started to slow down as the reality closed in on the smaller sized governments.  If they paid too high a price, the planet wouldn't be worth processing for its meager resources.  A few minutes later, a locked in bid pulsed.  It flashed faster waiting for another bid.  It finally turned a solid red.  The funds of the bidder verified.  Sold. 

The image of another planet took its place.  Blue water, green landscape along with some patches of tan to indicate small desert regions.  Agent Fisher sat forward, eager.  The auctioneer finally spoke.  Life forms positive, early stages of evolution only.  Good for colonization, average in minerals with an oxygen based atmosphere.  High in carbon and nitrogen.  Rare minerals detected, trace amounts only.  Sixty percent of surface is water, mild volcanic activity.  Bidding may start. 

Damn it, Agent Fisher muttered.  Early stages of evolution only meant small animals at best.  No higher life forms would be thriving on the surface.  It was a pristine world that could be tailored to the needs of any race.  As expected, bids rolled in hot and heavy.  His client was specific.  The slave labor market on their side of the galaxy was booming and they wanted trainable product.  He didn't touch his pad.  Even though this world was highly profitable, he didn't earn his reputation for delivering planets that weren't exclusively asked for.  When the final bid locked in solid red, the price was impressive.  Still profitable to his experienced eye, but only by a close margin. 

The next planet that materialized on the auction floor made everyone sit forward.  The large red 'quarantine' label across it evaporated.  Another blue green world turned before them.  The robotic auctioneer was quick to explain.  Sealed for the last two years, this planet is bathed by an unknown light radiation from its blue star.  Galactopolis Science Division has declared the unknown energy emissions to be harmless after extensive study and testing.  The low energy signature does not emit beyond the local solar system.  Life forms positive, standard base humanoid population of two point six billion.  No electronic technology present, only stone, metal and carpentry detected from orbit.  Abundant in rare minerals.  Surface is forty five percent water.  All land masses are habitable.  The atmosphere is nitrogen rich with an oxygen equivalent ratio.  All other gases are at trace levels, low in carbon.  Bidding may start. 

This is the type of planet Agent Fisher patiently waited for, but he didn't snatch up the bidding pad to start typing in offers.  He knew better.  Let them price each other out first.  Then he would make his move.  Seal the deal in such a way that other foreign governments wouldn't try bleeding his account dry by micro-bidding his available funds away. 

The fact that a large base humanoid population existed made Agent Fisher giddy.  Like himself, humanoids were a popular design in evolution, though not the only variation.  Some evolved with four arms.  Others genetically developed more than two eyes.  Regardless of their specifics, primitive humanoids were easily trainable for slave labor.  The profits for his client would be enormous as the planet itself was incapable of resisting an invasion.  With no technology that could repel a serious landing, all resource expenses would be at a minimum. 

The numbers slowed to a crawl.  Twice that of the last pristine world, the numbers started to flash.  Agent Fisher entered his amount and selected to bid.  There, let that sink in.  He grinned when half the room gasped.  He doubled the price that was about to take it. 

Somebody countered with a small raise.  Pathetic.  Lesson time.  Agent Fisher typed in another amount, knew this would end any further numerical argument.  He doubled the price yet again.  A rare amount even for a pristine planet of that nature, but with what his client planned on doing, the price was highly worth it.  Nobody argued against his price anymore, just as he anticipated.  The numbers flashed.  Solid red.  The planet now belonged to his portfolio, paid in full. 

Agent Fisher got up to leave, ignoring the rest of the ongoing auction.  He opened the portable transmitter to his client.  I've got a planet for you that's even better than we expected to find.  The price was a little steep, but you'll more than quadruple your investment.  I'll be in your office by eight in the morning, standard galactic time to draw up the invasion contract.  See you then.  Feeling really good about this purchase, he closed the channel.  Once his client took a good look at the numbers, his fame would soar even higher.  So would his retainer fee, which is why he loved his job. 

Chapter Two

ARIELLA MISTHAVEN TUGGED GENTLY at her white silk robe, the golden cord around her hourglass waist felt a little too tight.  She focused her mind and touched the material with her will.  Lovely sapphire blue eyes flickered with an inner light just for a moment.  The belt was finally comfortable.  Her long blonde hair was tied back by a small gold cord.  It moved slightly without her touching it.  The angle of her flowing pony tail changed, appearing a bit more comfortable.  Adjustment spells are easy, she told the class of fascinated teenagers.  You visualize what you want, focus the results in your mind.  You actually will it to happen.  As you know, everyone is born with the ability to use magic.  The only difference between us is how strong you are in using it.  Does anyone here recall the second tenet of magical talent? 

Ro'Veen Fingers, a wild dark haired young man who long held a crush on his teacher couldn't help himself.  Besides being one of the best pick pockets and escape artists in the five realms, his ability to act out melodramatically won him many classroom fans.  His hand shot up immediately, exertion on his face proving that he was working hard to get her attention.  He happily sat at the head of the class no more than ten feet from his teacher just for moments such as this one.  I do!  Pick me Miss Ariella, pick me! 

Don't be shy, Ariella suggested to the rest of the class, ignoring Ro'Veen for now.  He always knew the answers, loved getting her attention a bit too much for her comfort.  I know it's been awhile since you heard the tenets, but this is the reason why they're so important.  Please, anyone?

Ro'Veen almost made his desk jerk forward with his hand being thrust up so hard.  Right here Miss Ariella!  I know it!  Right here! 

She sighed, gesturing to Ro'Veen at last.  Mr. Fingers may answer the question now. 

He sprang to his feet and faced the class of twenty teenagers.  None of them offered to answer because they loved his theatrics.  The second tenet of magical talent!  Written by the ancient, famous and most powerful of all sorcerers ever, Stazrantalok the Mighty!  His strong face grew even more dramatic.  When the essence of new life forms, magic is imbued upon the body and spirit!  Some may get a lot...  He gestured to Ariella with a flourish.  Some may get only a pittance...  He gestured to himself and widened his eyes in self pity.  All can and will use magic according to their own strength and inner talent!  He spread his arms wide and gazed at the classroom ceiling for a moment, then flourished a deep bow to indicate he was done.  The classroom applause was gentle, supportive. 

Thank you, Mr. Fingers, Ariella announced, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her tone.  She waited for him to sit back down before continuing.  As always, well intended performance aside, Ro'Veen is correct.  There's no telling just how much or little we can do until we come of age.  The moment when a man's voice grows lower.  When women develop their curves.  That's when the first stages of magical influence flare into existence.  Just what type of magic we can do as individuals vary.  Just as much as we look different from each other, our individual powers can also differ.  I'm a healer, as an example.  Others might be destructive.  Some can conjure, others transmute materials.  Finding out what you can do is difficult at first.  Most of you have already discovered your talents.  A minor few have not, but you will by this time next year. 

Her lecture was interrupted by a speeding pixie.  She buzzed into the classroom through a high hole in the wall at an amazing velocity, flashed a brilliant white display.  Zipping out the other side through another hole without pausing, which of course led to another classroom where the school pixie repeated the performance, their small pixie forms allowed for a significant amount of agility.  That was the standard signal for letting everyone know that school was out for the day.  The eight inch high woman with wings only took fifty seconds to buzz the entire two story building.  Such was the speed of pixie folk. 

Class dismissed, Ariella gratefully announced, went to her desk and plopped down into the wooden chair.  All of her students except one streamed out the door.  Ro'Veen didn't move from his seat, resting his head on two fists, a dreamy look in his brown eyes.  His happy smile didn't leave his face as he waited for the expected reaction.  That means you too, Mr. Fingers. 

You're so pretty, he complimented her.  In two days I turn eighteen, can we go out to celebrate after the party?

Ariella opened her grade book, not bothering to look at him as she replied with a stern tone, My primary power may be healing, Mr. Fingers, but my minor powers can still make you leave out the window over there, head first. 

Whoa, class is over! Ro'Veen exclaimed as if suddenly realizing what time it was.  See you tomorrow, Miss Ariella!  He quickly left, almost bumping into Jasra Songweaver.  The Bard was the school's music teacher who quickly stepped aside to let the young man rush out of the classroom.  She slowly shook her head while his dwindling footsteps echoed down the hallway. 

What are you going to do about his crush?  Jasra watched Ariella sigh with indecision, grew concerned for her best friend.  Want me to talk with his parents?

Ariella slowly shook her head.  If it was that simple, this would have been dealt with by now.  Poor kid, he has it bad for me.  I've dealt with crushes before, but he's one insistent young man.  She closed the large grade book after making a final conduct score on the student they were discussing, changing the subject on purpose.  So, any new prospects for the Bard profession?

I'm afraid not, Jasra admitted with only mild regret.  All mundane music users so far.  Don't get me wrong, they're pretty good.  Some are almost as masterful as I.  Unfortunately, not a single soul can influence magic with their melody making.  Maybe next year I'll get a promising Bard or two under my banner. 

Xarduvik Vandicar stepped into the classroom, the principal of the school was an aged fellow who wore a typical robe that belonged to the Wizards of the Seeking Flame.  His fatherly smile warmed both women clean through as he happily greeted them.  My two favorite teachers in one spot.  Excellent.  I won't have to repeat myself.  You both know all too well how wizards really hate repeating themselves.

That we do, Ariella agreed, giggling.  She liked the aged wizard because he had the old world charm of her departed grandfather.  Always kind with a twist of mild humor, the power he commanded was nothing short of phenomenal.  What's on your mind, Xarduvik?

Tomorrow morning I'm going to wake up Vorigar Scalekeeper so he can pay a visit to the school, he calmly announced, as if it was no big deal.  The children would probably love to ask some questions after his speech.  Xarduvik recognized the look of utter shock on their faces, raising his wrinkled hand to calm them.  Now now, don't be concerned.  This is planned, the sleeping dragon expects my arrival with an awakening spell.  We worked it out last year before he decided to get some beauty sleep. 

Jasra was more than well versed in dragon folk, her immediate concern was valid.  It's too early to wake any dragon, no matter the reason.  Are you feeling ill, Mr. Vandicar?  He needs a minimum of two years.  What if he wakes too sleepy headed and decides quite by accident that you're his breakfast? 

He'll be wide awake, Xarduvik promised with a sly smile.  When I put him to bed last winter, I had twenty gallons of my best mental regeneration potion poured down his gullet.  He's getting triple the recuperative rest in only half the time.  No grouchy dragons are allowed near my students, I tell you. 

Jasra nearly shouted at the old wizard.  You gave him what?  How can you do that to your students?  You know damn well the side effects of that raunchy potion will...  her words got muffled.  Ariella clamped a hand over her mouth with an apologetic smile on her pretty lips. 

I'm sorry, Xarduvik, Ariella intoned politely, but we have to go now.  There's so much we girls have got to do before Vorigar speaks to the kids, right Jasra?  So much to do?  The Bard stopped struggling in her efforts to cuss out the crazy old man, partially grateful the healer didn't let her temper flare out of control.  Still, the old wizard was nuts to use that stuff on a dragon.  Absolutely nuts!

Glad you see it my way, Ariella, Xarduvik preened, stroking his short white beard.  Ah, if I was two hundred and thirty years younger, you would be in quite a bit of trouble by taking my side with such a pretty face. 

You're very flattering, Ariella acknowledged, keeping her pretty face as he liked to see it - sweetly passive - as she pulled Jasra out of the classroom with her.  She didn't remove her hand until they were in the hall, moving well out of earshot.  Sorry about that, we needed to get away quick.  We only have until tomorrow before sunrise to deal with that poor dragon.

Jasra grumbled but ended up agreeing with her best friend.  I know, sorry I almost lost my temper.  He must be going soft in the head to think up something like this.  She followed Ariella out of the nearly empty school.  I'll meet you back at your place?  I need to get the superior herbs from my studio. 

You bet, see you soon.  Ariella tried not to shiver.  Vorigar was going to speak to the kids tomorrow of all the damned things, with one of Xarduvik's crazy potions rumbling in his gut.  What if he accidentally kills every living thing within a half mile of the bad reaction?  Then what? 

Jasra knew she was on short time, pausing in the middle of the schoolyard as Ariella's back grew distant.  She opened her mouth and started to sing.  It was a wordless song, the only important fabric of her Bardic travel magic was the melody.  Ghostly music notes with the quality of faint moonlight started flowing around her long elegant legs.  She took a single step while ending the song on a sweet crescendo.  She was inside her studio, thirty miles to the west of where she stood only a few moments ago. 

Jasra quickly went to her apothecary shelf and grabbed several jars of incense, sweet clover and powdered rosebuds.  She spied other important alchemical components and took the time to gather them up as well.  Arms fully loaded, she knew with a grin she would beat Ariella back to the healer's own house. 

She sighed and focused, keeping her mind serious.  Her travel song flowed from her lips again, if they didn't get the right amount of counter agents, chances were high all of their students would be forever carrying the aftermath of Vorigar's speech to an early grave. 

Ariella knew Jasra would be waiting for her when she arrived.  The Bard's tight curly black hair and suave creamy skin was easy to pick out among the greenery that surrounded her home's frame.  The armload of bottles and jars looked heavy, so she grabbed a few off the top to offer a bit of relief. 

Thank you. Jasra's smooth contralto always brought a touch of envy to Ariella.  Her own soprano felt so plain when compared to the singer's magical voice. 

It's only a few things, Ariella said, easily waving aside the thanks.  They had much bigger concerns come morning.  She opened her door and they went inside.  Put everything down in the kitchen, I might not have enough rhubarb extract.  Pray that we do or we might have to fake out the kids.  You know, tell them the event is across town or something. 

Jasra frowned as she considered the other aspect of their new problem.  How are we supposed to get this inside Vorigar?  I really can't see feeding a cow this stuff and offering it for breakfast.  He'll probably eat just as he wakes up.  He wouldn't be hungry anymore.

Oh, I don't know for sure yet, Ariella growled, her anger finally settling in as she pulled down several pots from her cupboards.  I suppose I could brew up a large wizard hat shaped suppository, tie it to Xarduvik's head and shove him up the dragon's butt for thinking this scheme up. 

She had said it so plainly that it took Jasra a moment to realize her friend wasn't really serious.  The Bard exhaled with wide eyes, never imagining the normally calm healer could think so evilly.  Ariella, even for you that's a little dark. 

I'm sorry, she conceded, pausing to get her feelings under control.  This is his what, Xar's third big blunder this year?  Only this one can turn deadly.  What are we going to do with him?  He should know better, dragons don't follow our alchemy recipes.  Poor Vorigar won't even see this coming.  We need to get ready, fix his problem and then...  She paused, inhaled to further control her voice.  We need to sit down and have a long talk with dear old Xarduvik.  She gestured to the table of containers and jars.  Pass me the bitter mint please?  I'll find a way to get the dragon to eat the cure.  We need to start brewing five minutes ago if we're to have it done in time.

Jasra went through the various selections, locating and passing the ingredient to her friend, knowing the whole jar was going into the pot.  Her hazel eyes lit up with an idea as she reached for the frog eye extract.  Ariella, I got it!  Dragon nip!  I passed a whole field of the stuff just two days ago, I could get a bushel!  We could tell Vorigar it's a breath mint for coming to speak to the kids!  And it wouldn't be a total lie, either! 

Perfect!  Ariella almost started laughing, checked herself.  Better make it a bushel and a half, you know how much dragons hate the taste of sugar.  I'm going to have to use a considerable amount. 

Jasra started humming her travel song, keeping the field of dragon nip sharp in her mind.  As the ghostly music notes appeared around her legs, she prayed they could get it into Vorigar's stomach before he started to belch uncontrollably.  Such was the penalty for using a mental regeneration potion.  For humans it was bad enough.  Coming out of a dragon who exhaled clouds of potent acid as a breath weapon, it would be a disaster! 

Chapter Three

THE NEWLY PROMOTED Invasion Leader introduced himself.  I'm Roger Stevens, you must be Agent Fisher.  His hand extended and they shook.  "Welcome aboard the Infinity, the finest warship of the 207th fleet." 

It's a pleasure to be here, Agent Fisher assured him.  These are the new models, aren't they? 

Damned right, he replied with a smile.  This landing deck alone has fifty ports for shuttles.  Below us are four more decks, capable of launching and receiving midsized to extra large transports in high volume.  Fifteen thousand troops per invasion vessel, not counting the crew of fifteen hundred.  Unlike the previous model, this one is two miles longer.  That's a total of seven miles by one mile of storage.  I think we'll fit your needs just fine. 

That depends on the size of your fleet, Agent Fisher said cautiously.  We have two billion humanoids to move, we want minimum losses while in transit.  No crowding up, if you know what I mean.

Roger batted at the air as if shooing away an annoying bug.  Two billion isn't a problem, I've got two thousand waiting on standby with another thousand coming out of the shipyards in just a week.  I see the painful look on your face.  Come along, there's something I want to show you. 

Agent Fisher reluctantly followed.  As they went into an elevator, he sighed.  Only three thousand?  We want to move them as soon as possible, not make round trips over a long period of time. 

We have an advantage.  Roger worked hard to sell his fleet, they needed this easy job.  You could go and hire fifty Ark Class Carriers and get them all in two trips, but they have a loss ratio of ten to fifteen percent in transit.  That many captive sentient beings on one ship causes problems, you know that.  The elevator slid open.  Miles of open floor stretched out before them.  The metal deck plates looked glossy.  This here is our newest feature.

What's so special about this? Agent Fisher almost laughed in his face.  He'd seen his fair share of slave storage before, this wasn't much different in appearance. 

The deck plates are set to stun, Roger explained, grinning big.  Any of them gets rowdy, causes a stir, form a resistance to authority, whatever they do won't save them from a good solid stun.  He gestured to the dozens of crew members walking the floors below their observation balcony.  Some of them carried clipboards, others were making sure the new facilities for water and waste management didn't need any maintenance.  Say those folks down there are about to riot, that could cost you what, hundreds of trainable slaves?  The guards would have to kill some to put down an insurrection.  Right over here, I press this switch.  Viola, instant pacification. 

Roger uncapped a button on the wall with a warning flag attached to it.  The moment he depressed it, the entire work crew slid to the floor.  The Invasion Leader continued his sales speech as if it was no big deal to stun his work crew.  From our side of the pens to the other side of the ship, they're all connected.  They'll wake after three hours.  Troublemakers are removed while they're out cold and isolated into a brig.  When the slave pen population wakes up, if they get stupid again, another round of nap time is just a press away.  They'll learn right quick to behave the entire trip.  Anyone in the crew can access this feature.  Minimum losses?  How about near zero losses.  Your profit per slave would skyrocket.  We only charge half of what the bigger fleets demand.  Sure it takes a little longer to move them, but hey, it's the best investment around. 

That's ingenious, Agent Fisher muttered, then a little louder, I can see your point Mr. Stevens.  You almost have me convinced.  He faced the