Galactic Jihad

By Victor DeGrande

Once again, the future of civilization is up for grabs. When religious fanatics threaten to ignite a thousand worlds in a holy war, John Armstrong must battle to save the galaxy. War, terrorism, and more adventures await Armstrong and his Zylstan allies, as friends and enemies return for another showdown to decide the fate of the galaxy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Victor DeGrande
• Release date: Nov 28, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463270660

Victor DeGrande

The author lives in San Leandro, California. He has an MBA in Financial Management, and then became an air traffic controller. While climbing the corporate ladder in finance, he heard the government was hiring controllers. And before he knew it, he arrived at the Federal Aviation Administration Academy in Oklahoma City. He suspected he had taken a wrong turn somewhere, because the instructors kept talking about airplanes. Oops! But this job sounded a lot more exciting than accounting, so he gave it a shot. Twenty years later, he retired and embarked on a life of mischief and irresponsibility.

Book preview

PROLOG

In Fate of the Galaxy, John Armstrong was a young ship’s captain when the corrupt Galactic Commonwealth collapsed. Rival factions attempted to seize power, as ambitious soldiers sought to overthrow the government. But it was the rise of the militaristic Tamboran Empire, commanded by its energetic leader, Rhein Singleton, that plunged the galaxy into civil war.

Armstrong led the forces of Altrena, a peaceful world that had thrived in isolation. The Tamborans quickly conquered most of the known galaxy, and laid siege to Altrena. For ten years, the adversaries fought to a stalemate.

But then Altrena received advanced technology from Zylsta, a shadowy world at the Galactic Rim. At last, Armstrong won a decisive victory in the Battle of Betelgeuse, and crushed the Tamboran Empire. The civil war had finally ended.

Eight more years have passed, and Altrena has ushered in an unprecedented era of peace and prosperity, as the unchallenged military and economic leader of the galaxy. As Secretary of Defense, John Armstrong has little to do but tell his old war stories to anyone who will listen.

But religious fanaticism is on the rise, and Altrena is still no closer to realizing the technological revolution promised by Zylsta. And most ominous of all, now Armstrong’s children are teenagers.

CHAPTER 1: GENERATION GAP

You know, it was on a summer day just like this, John Armstrong said, that I fought the Battle of Altrena!

His fiftieth birthday party had ended. All of the guests had gone home, but his son and daughter didn’t have that option. They slumped together on the living room sofa.

And you were outnumbered three-to-one, Jason mumbled.

And I was outnumbered three-to-one! Armstrong declared. I knew my only chance was to lure the enemy flagship into the hot spot between the two moons.

His daughter tried to stifle a yawn, and turned to her brother. Did he get to the Armstrong Maneuver yet?

Armstrong scowled. Debbie had just turned fourteen. Sometimes 14 going on 21, but more often 14 going on 8. It averaged out. Now that both of his kids had reached the age at which they didn’t want to be seen in public with their parents, his relationship with them was one of mutual toleration. Teenagers, he thought. He liked them better when they were little. Have I told you this story before? he asked.

Only about a MILLION times, Dad. Debbie huffed. "Can we go now?"

Go on, he said, waving them away. But if you kids are so smart, how come they haven’t named a constellation after either of you?

He wasn’t sure they heard him, but if they had run off any faster, they would have left vapor trails. Only when they were safely outside did he hear his little treasure tell her big brother, "Some constellation that is. Only seven stars. And it doesn’t even look like Dad."

They still have to work out tonight, his wife said.

Even after so many years together, Linda was the same girl he had married. She still filled a tight lab uniform just as she did twenty years ago. Her cell structure had been programmed to mature at age twenty-five, and to maintain itself indefinitely. His wife was every man’s dream: a woman who didn’t change after she got married. She was from Zylsta, a mysterious world on the Galactic Rim, whose scientists had defeated the aging process. By day she was the Director of the Science Institute, and then came home and raised their two demon spawn, who thought they were smarter than everyone else in the galaxy (which they were.)

As long as the kids are gone, there’s something we need to discuss. We’ve been invited to a wedding.

That got her attention. Really? Who is it? One of my friends or yours?

Armstrong took a deep breath. Mine, he said. At least I think so, anyway. Rhein Singleton.

His wife gasped. You must be kidding! We can’t go to his wedding!

We have to. It’s a state affair.

He tried to conquer the entire galaxy-

That was a long time ago, Armstrong interrupted.

But he’s a killer!

All right, he has a few character flaws, he said, spreading his palms. No one’s perfect, you know.

His wife shook her head in amazement. You call killing people a few character flaws?

Uh, not to make excuses for Rhino, but you ought to try seeing things from his perspective. First of all, he was adopted-

Yes, I know, she said. And he was raised by wolves.

He lives in a different society. If you’d survived a dozen assassination attempts, you might not show your enemies a lot of clemency, either.

This is just unbelievable, she said. Besides, he’s Tamboran. Haven’t you heard about Tamboran weddings?

Armstrong nodded. Casualties were expected on those occasions. The Tamborans didn’t consider a wedding successful unless both ale and blood flowed freely. Look, he’s their president. This isn’t the usual rabble trying to kill each other. I’m sure this will be much more sedate than the average Tamboran wedding.

That’s not very reassuring, you know, she said. Besides, he’s already been married so many times. You’d think he’s old enough to know better.

It seems Rhino is getting restless again. Better he seeks his conquests in the bedroom than in deep space, he said. But I can understand why he’s getting married again. Most women don’t stay young and beautiful forever like you.

His wife was as susceptible to flattery as any woman, but she was also endowed with a genetically-enhanced intellect. This time, her coldly analytical Zylstan side won out. "It seems Singleton is growing old dis-gracefully, she said. So he’ll have six wives now?"

Oh no, he’s divorcing all five of his current wives.

All of them? What happened?

According to the rumor mill, he believes they were unfaithful to him.

That’s it? I want details! she demanded.

Armstrong stared up at the holographic ceiling display as puffy white cloud formations drifted across it. It didn’t matter that his wife was the most brilliant research scientist in the world, and had been instrumental in developing the weapons that had won the civil war. Nor did it matter that her genes had been selected for intelligence; Linda was still a woman, and she had to hear the latest gossip.

It had something to do with a military officer, but I don’t know the details, and I’m not about to ask Singleton about it.

All right, she said. I’m sure the news media will find out what happened soon enough. I’m going to check on the kids, and make sure they aren’t killing each other.

She probably didn’t mean that in the literal sense. Actually, Jason and Debbie had stopped trying to kill each other once they learned of their Zylstan origin. Eight years ago (much to Armstrong’s relief) both the civil war and his family’s ongoing domestic war had ended at the same time, when the siblings learned they had hit the genetic lottery.

But they lived in a galaxy dominated by religious doctrine. Modern society considered tattoos to be sacrilegious, and genetically enhanced people would be outcasts. If their secret became known, Jason and Debbie would be shunned by society, or worse. They were smart enough to understand it was the two of them against an intolerant galaxy. Faced with the prospect of being considered freaks, the kids had bonded, both of them sworn never to mention their legacy.

Linda had been helping them develop their formidable mental capabilities. Like chameleons, they had the ability to change their skin color. Their secret had only one close call, long ago at school, when Debbie had an argument with her teacher. The poor man made the mistake of saying it wouldn’t matter if she held her breath until she turned blue. That was more than enough opportunity for a headstrong seven-year-old. Always eager to cause some mischief, her complexion was somewhere between navy and midnight blue when the horrified man begged her to start breathing again.

Armstrong scanned the last of the news updates from the Galactic Broadcasting Network. Three-dimensional images of a riot floated in front of his living room wall. Black smoke billowed upward as a mob dressed in rags threw stones at a line of brown-uniformed soldiers. He shook his head and wondered why GBN gave so much airtime to a riot on Kavarra. That wasn’t news. There was always a riot somewhere on that world.

Then the carnage in the streets was replaced by the image of an old man’s fleshy face, deeply lined and with one eye missing. Clem Theebadow, High Priest of Kavarra, was bellowing his age-old diatribe against Altrena and scientific progress. Or anything else that might steer people away from an austere life of prayer and sacrifice to Mother Kavarra, the One True Deity.

He switched off the COM link, and the holographic image sparkled and vanished. It was late now, and his wife and kids hadn’t returned, so he went out looking for them. Footpaths led across the great lawn to the back of the family compound. Hidden away in the back of Fortress Armstrong was his fitness center. He had intended the single-story building to be his private gymnasium; the fitness center was his wife’s idea. And as he’d gotten older, the kids used it more than he did.

Despite Linda’s efforts to fill the cavernous room with modern technology, it was still a throwback to earlier times. A wooden floor with a few wooden benches along the walls. He came here to exercise, not to make himself comfortable. Treadmills stood idle as the greenery of holographic forests constantly changed. He found Linda and the kids, but no one was doing any exercise. As he approached, Linda stood off to the side, while Jason and Debbie just crouched and stared at each other.

Linda, I just saw on the news- he said.

At that moment, a diffuse band of red light shimmered between Jason and Debbie, linking their faces, as they grimaced in concentration.

Armstrong felt a lump in his throat. Even after thirty years in the military, he’d never seen anything like this. What’s going on? he asked, pointing at the light, which brightened, and took on an orange hue.

Shhhh! she said. Let’s see if they can get into the yellow band.

The band of light intensified again, turning first yellow, and then taking on a greenish tint.

Armstrong stared at wife and then at his children. Both kids were showing the strain on their faces.

Stop! Linda shouted.

The band of light dimmed and vanished as Debbie squatted, and toppled over backwards. Jason sank to his knees.

Exactly what is going on here? When you said you were going to make sure they didn’t kill each other, I didn’t think you really meant it, Armstrong said, watching as both of his children tried to catch their breath.

Jason gasped. We’re OK, he said, still on his hands and knees.

We were waiting until they were more accomplished to show you this, Linda said. But I’ve been training them to develop their psionic power.

Psionic power, you say? Armstrong asked. It was as though all of the gods had put their heads together and decided that life had not yet presented him with enough challenges. For the benefit of those of us who aren’t genetically enhanced, like ME for instance, can anyone explain this in plain language? I mean, I may be slow, but if you use small words, I might understand-

Calm down, dear, his wife said. The children are practicing a technique known as the Psychic Blast. We are able to project our mental power as kinetic energy.

I really need to spend more time at home, he said, shaking his head. You can project mental power? How is that possible?

What do you think our additional brain capacity is for? So we can solve square roots faster?

I…I don’t know. Is this dangerous? Could they hurt each other? he asked, waving at the kids.

"No, not too badly. Our neural synapses have shielding against psionic power. But if a psychic blast hit an unshielded brain…"

Armstrong pointed at his own noggin. You mean like mine?

Well, yes, she said. I suppose so. Depending on the strength of the blast, the result could be a headache, brain damage, or even death.

Death? Armstrong asked. Maybe he’d better think twice before he told the kids to clean up their bedrooms. I don’t think they should be learning how to kill people. At least not until they’re older.

Debbie had gotten to her feet, her hands on her hips. Dad! she shrieked. We’re good at it! We’ve never really hurt anyone.

"Never really? Debbie, have you done this before?"

Um, well, sometimes. Mostly at school, she said, looking first at her brother and then her mother.

Armstrong drew himself up. Young lady, what have you done? he demanded.

Well, you know how boys are. They’re all jerks. Always bothering me. Always harassing me.

Debbie… he said. What happens to the boys who bother you?

They get headaches, she said. Real bad headaches. Then they don’t bother me any more.

All the boys in her class are afraid of her, Jason added.

Now his daughter was trying not to grin. And not succeeding. They just don’t know why, she said.

You mean you can use this Psychic Blast of yours without anyone knowing it? But what about the different colors, the red and yellow lights?

That’s not a problem, Linda said. That only occurs when two psychic blasts meet, and interfere with each other. Normally the energy released in a psychic blast is well beyond the visible spectrum. But when they collide, the energy will spill over into the visible wavelengths. First red, then orange, then yellow, and so on through all the colors of the rainbow. They’re getting better. This is the first time they’ve been able to maintain control long enough to produce a green interference pattern.

Uh huh. So this means that any boy that bothers Debbie, she can incapacitate him without anyone knowing she did it?

Debbie’s eyes flashed, and her grin was a bit too sinister for Armstrong’s liking.

But he considered that maybe this psionic power wasn’t so bad after all. At least this Psychic Blast thing had a practical application. Hmmm, he said. That could be useful. Raising a daughter had just gotten a little easier. Or maybe harder, it wasn’t clear yet.

Besides, once they start cloning people, we won’t even need boys any more, she said. We’ll be able to grow babies by ourselves.

Hear that, Dad? Jason asked. We’re obsolete.

Well, the nice thing about cloning people is that if anything happens to your sister, we can always crank out a couple more just like her.

One of Debbie is plenty, Linda said. But you said there was something on the news?

Oh, that. Nothing really, he said. A riot on Kavarra.

Is this a new riot, or a continuation of an old riot?

I don’t know. What difference does it make? It’s the same religious riot they’ve been having for as long as anyone can remember.

It’s always the same old story with those Kavarrans, Debbie said. What’s the matter with them, anyway?

They want everyone to worship their god. That’s all there is to it, Armstrong said. He tried not to influence his children with his own prejudices. The best thing he could say about the Kavarrans is that they looked human. Although they had the standard complement of arms and legs, they were completely lacking in common sense.

Well, as long as they stay on their world, they can keep killing each other as much as they want, Debbie said. But having only one god is really dumb. At least if they had lots of them, the gods could take different sides in their little wars. But if there’s only one, whose side is the god on?

That’s easy, Linda said. God is always on the side with the best army. Or sometimes the best fleet.

Or sometimes the best commander, Armstrong said. Kids, did I ever tell you about the Battle of Betelgeuse? Where I took on the entire Tamboran fleet? It was touch and go there for a while-

Oh, look at the time, Jason interrupted. "I really have to get to