Power Surge

By Kenneth McDonald

Trakhosk and Shevrek are bear-like Bulrazi, members of a spacefaring species that has had more than its share of tensions with the human-dominated League of Allied Systems. Shaped by a shared trauma, the two Bulrazi have chosen very different paths, each of which has left them something of an outsider. Now, brought together again by a common threat, the two must confront the insectoid k’rakk once more. But this time the hive-mind species is on the cusp of a power surge that could threaten not only the Bulrazi, but the entire civilized galaxy.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kenneth McDonald
• Release date: Feb 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005713249

Kenneth McDonald

I am a retired education consultant who worked for state government in the area of curriculum. I have also taught American and world history at a number of colleges and universities in California, Georgia, and South Carolina. I started writing fiction in graduate school and never stopped. In 2010 I self-published the novella "The Labyrinth," which has had over 100,000 downloads. Since then, I have published more than fifty fantasy and science fiction books on Smashwords. My doctorate is in European history, and I live with my wife in northern California.

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Power Surge

Kenneth McDonald

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Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2022 by Kenneth McDonald

Cover Credit: The cover image is adapted from Cotopaxi, by Frederic Edwin Church (1862). The image is in the public domain.

* * * * *

Works by Kenneth McDonald

The Ogre at the Crossroads

Forgotten Lore

First Series

Secrets of a Lost Age

Warriors of Shadow

The Shattered Key

Mysteries of the Book

Second Series

The Road to Ironbridge

The Towers of Khormur-Dhain

Trouble on the Borderlands

The Horror in the Wood

Third Series

The Streets of Li Syval

The Secrets of Li Syval

The Graves Crew

The Graves Crew and the Restless Dead

The Graves Crew and the Damned Dam

The Graves Crew and the Firestar Amulet

The Graves Crew and the Road of Doom

The Graves Crew and the Magical Forest

The Graves Crew and the Mountain Fortress

The Adventures of the Graves Crew, Volume 1 (omnibus paperback edition)

The Adventures of the Graves Crew, Volume 2 (omnibus paperback edition)

Refugees of the Crucible

Powerless

Overpowered

Balance of Power

Legacy of the Bulrazi

Power Play

Power Game

Power Surge

Soul Weapons

Wizard’s Shield

Soul of the Sword

Wizard’s Stone

Tales of the Soul Weapons

The Dwarf on the Mountain

Legends of the Soul Weapons, Volume 1 (omnibus paperback edition)

Legends of the Soul Weapons, Volume 2 (omnibus paperback edition)

The Colors of Fate

Black Shadows Gather

Green Hearts Weep

Red Vengeance Rising

Faded Yellow Dreams

Blazing White Stars

Shiny Golden Schemes

Silent Gray Depths

The Colors of Fate, Volume 1 (omnibus paperback edition)

The Colors of Fate, Volume 2 (omnibus paperback edition)

The Mages of Sacreth

The Labyrinth

Of Spells and Demons

Grimm’s War

Grimm’s Loss

Grimm’s Love

Of Blood and Magic

Of Steel and Sorcery

The Godswar Trilogy

Paths of the Chosen

Choice of the Fallen

Fall of Creation

Daran’s Journey

Heart of a Hero

Soul of a Coward

Will of a Warrior

Courage of a Champion

* * * * *

Chapter 1

The planet didn’t have a name. In the League Registry it was given only a string of letters and numbers without meaning. It would have been different if his people had been the ones to discover it, Trakhosk thought. The Bulrazi believed that even dead worlds deserved a name.

There was no doubt that the planet, whatever one called it, was dead. The system’s star was an anemic orange sphere seen through the thick haze of the toxic atmosphere. It was strong enough to support life, but if Trakhosk were to remove his gel-suit, even for a few heartbeats, the radiation would sear his tissues like sharp claw-blades.

The indicator screen superimposed on his suit’s visor fed him precise numbers about temperature, wind speed and direction, and radiation intensity, but he’d been here long enough that he could get a feel for the day from the resistance he felt as he trudged up the steep ascent toward the dig site. The wind and the ground seemed to conspire to resist his progress, his booted feet dipping almost to the knee with each step. But he had a much easier time than the other researchers would have. As a Bulrazi, he stood half again as tall as most humans. His chosen life-path was that of a scholar, but the muscled body under the gel-suit still contained nearly double the mass of an adult human. Someone looking through the transparent visor would have seen a face that resembled that of an Earth bear, with wide eyes under expressive brows, a slightly protruding jaw equipped with the pointed teeth of a carnivore, and a dense coat of brown fur with a faint ember tinge.

The wind intensified as Trakhosk reached the crest, and he stood there for a moment, letting the planet’s fury wash over him. He was not a follower of the superstitions of his people, but he had studied them, and in a place like this it was easy to imagine that the wind contained the spirits of those who had lost their lives here, the untold billions who had perished long before he was born.

After a brief interval he continued trudging forward into the excavated area of the site. As he passed through the tensor field the wind eased, though visibility still remained low. The HUD in his suit helpfully painted the outlines of the partially-cleared structures in ghostly green lines, but with a click of his tongue Trakhosk deactivated the visual assist. He would get to the day’s work a bit later, but his purpose with this early visit was to get a feel for the site, and the people who had once lived here, before the k’rakk had come.

The tensor fields had kept most of the sand from pouring back onto the cleared portion of the site, but there was still a coating that swished over the partially-exposed stones as he walked. There were emplaced lights that sensed his approach and pinged his suit to see if he wanted them activated, but he decided to leave them off for the moment. He crossed the site, past the plastic tarps that had been placed to seal off active digs, past the large excavation machines that in the dull light almost resembled the drones of the insectoid k’rakk themselves. It was not the first time that such a comparison had occurred to Trakhosk, but he still felt a shudder as memories stirred at the association.

The Bulrazi scientist made his way to the far side of the site, where a large stone pillar rose up out of the sand, jutting a full five meters into the sky. The research team had not fully deciphered the purpose of the obelisk, or decoded the faint markings that covered its surface. With what had happened here, and the centuries of blowing wind and scouring radioactive sand, it was a miracle even to find something recognizable as an artifact of the intelligent species that had once lived here. Doctor Harzan believed that this place had been buried until fairly recently, and a shift in weather patterns had been responsible for uncovering the site’s secrets. Having just felt the intensity of the wind, it was easy to believe that it was possible. But while he respected the spirits of that long-dead race, and the sanctity of this tomb of a planet, he was not here to learn of them, but to study the species that had done this to them. Technically, it had been the League who had scoured the planet clean with nuclear fire, but its past owners had already been long gone when that had happened. The k’rakk, with only biological technology and lacking faster-than-light travel, had cleansed this place almost as well as the humans had with their sleek, powerful cruisers equipped with Fordham drives and banks of particle cannons, missile launchers, and other forms of industrialized death. From what he’d learned, it had taken the better part of two years before the last trace of them had been eradicated from this planet and the more far-flung rocks that occupied the system. The bugs never went easy—Trakhosk knew that from personal experience—but without FTL they were at a significant disadvantage once it came to an inevitable confrontation.

A proximity alert from his suit’s sensor array pinged, and he turned from the mysterious obelisk to see a shape approaching through the swirling winds. From the angle of its approach, it had come directly from the camp instead of taking the more roundabout route ascent up the ridge that Trakhosk had just negotiated. It was a metallic ellipsoid about half a meter long, its shields flaring against the constant onslaught of the ambient radiation. That nimbus briefly flashed brighter as the drone passed through the tensor field, as its own energy fields reacted to the outer barrier.

With his visual augment software off, the newcomer’s identity didn’t automatically appear on his visor, but Trakhosk recognized the drone. What brings you up here with such urgency, Jay?

The J-series AI that occupied the drone—and ran the archeological dig’s camp in the valley below—let out a sharp chirp. Noting that he had his suit systems muted, it sent a tightbeam that resulted in a synthetic voice issuing from the speakers that flanked his head. Even with the constant background howl of the wind, it was as if the drone was speaking directly into his ears. You should not be out here alone, and with your safety protocols deactivated, Doctor Trakhosk, it chided.

My locator is tied into the site network, Trakhosk replied. It’s not as if I had wandered off beyond the site radius. If Doctor Harzan or Director Kettan needed me, they could have sent a ping up via the hardline. Standard communications were almost impossible given the interference from the intense radiation, but there should have been no need to send the drone to check on him, unless… Has something happened?

A ship has arrived in orbit around the planet, the drone replied. A League battlecruiser. They have asked for you, and are sending a shuttle down to pick you up.

Me? Trakhosk said. A League warship? Why?

I do not have that information, but I do know that they requested you specifically. When the site network indicated you were here, at dig site Alpha, Director Kettan sent me to bring you at once.

Trakhosk was curious, but it was clear that additional discussion with the drone would not prove fruitful. He set out back the way he had come, staggering slightly in his haste as he passed through the tensor field and the full force of the wind struck him again. The drone immediately moved ahead of him, its shields flashing slightly as they extended to protect him. The intensity of the wind dropped significantly, but it was still awkward making the sharp descent back down the hill to the path that wound back around to the expedition’s base camp. With the drone shielding him it didn’t take long to cover the distance, and soon the lights of the camp materialized out of the murk ahead.

A loud noise caught his attention, and he looked up to see what had to be the aforementioned shuttle descending out of the thick clouds, its engines screaming as it fought both a rapid descent and the intense winds. Whoever was flying that ship, they were obviously in a hurry. Trakhosk hastened his own steps, arriving at the outer perimeter barrier just as the shuttle dropped out of sight over the camp’s landing pad. The drone had already cleared their approach with the automated perimeter, and the gates were swinging back well before the Bulrazi scientist could contact them through his suit controls. Someone was there to greet him, approaching across the sand-strewn clearing that surrounded the camp’s half a dozen duraplas shelters, and Trakhosk was surprised to see it was Doctor Harzan, a gel-suited arm lifted to shield his face against the swirling wind and grit that had gotten in past the environmental shield in the shuttle’s wake. The aged human was the lead of the archaeological team investigating the site, but he spent much less time suited up out in the elements than the younger members of the team. Trakhosk had come to enjoy his company, for he’d been one of the few humans not intimidated by his being Bulrazi.

Doctor! Trakhosk said. What’s going on?

I don’t know, but they have a Priority One clearance code, and are in quite the rush, the human scientist said. Apparently, they’ve been trying to raise us since they arrived in-system, but this damned weather front has been playing havoc with long-distance comms again. Anyway, they’re here right now, as you no doubt just saw. I promised the Director I’d see you straight to the pad. Jay, if you could lead the way?

Certainly, Doctor, the drone replied, already moving to guide them, a bright beam stabbing out ahead to show the fastest route through the camp.

But… my things! Trakhosk protested.

Hannis is already gathering them, Harzan said. She’ll meet us at the pad. They aren’t even willing to wait for us to get the shelter conduit set up; they’ll do decon in the shuttle airlock.

What’s the rush? Trakhosk asked. A thought occurred to him, and he added, Is it Bulrazar? Has there been an attack?

I don’t think so, Harzan replied, but given your area of expertise, I suspect that the k’rakk are involved somehow.

This is quite… irregular, Trakhosk said. He resisted the urge to flick his claws; the suit would mask the gesture, and it wasn’t like Harzan would understand it in any case. It seemed like the Doctor—and the Director—were as in the dark as he was, but he appreciated the gesture from the human to come greet him personally; the message could have just as easily been routed through the drone.

It looks like you’re in for a bit of excitement, Harzan said. Certainly more than you’ll find on this blasted old rock.

My people have a saying about surprises, Trakhosk said. The gist of it is that they are rarely good.

Your people have always struck me as a practical sort, the human replied. Ah, here we are.

Trakhosk could see the shuttle as they came around the machine shop. Sand was whirling around its bulk, its anterior plates hissing from the warmth of its rapid descent through the planet’s atmosphere. Even as they approached a part of it near the middle began to open up, revealing a dim interior space. Off to the right, a bright light glowed from the entrance to the camp’s main building. The portable shelter that was designed to allow people to board shuttles like this without the hassle of bundling into a gel-suit was puffed up next to the door, as if they’d begun erecting it before abandoning the effort.

What was going on? Trakhosk thought.

A human figure darted forward, struggling with the weight of two heavy parcels. Trakhosk recognized them as from his quarters. The human looked as though the wind would carry her off once he collected them from her, but she merely looked up at him with an excited grin visible through her visor.

My research? he asked.

Your tablet’s in the first one, she said. We also tight-beamed a complete copy to the shuttle. Sorry about the mess, we were in a bit of a hurry.

Trakhosk must have betrayed his surprise, for Harzan said, They specifically asked for copies of everything you had in the site network. He clasped the Bulrazi on the arm—having to reach quite a bit to do so. Godspeed, old chap.

The Bulrazi don’t believe in gods, Trakhosk said, a bit overwhelmed.

Well, speed seems to be in the cards, regardless, Harzan said.

The shuttle is powering up again, the drone noted, shifting a bit to the side as if to urge Trakhosk forward. The Bulrazi started toward the pad, which began to shake a bit as the shuttle’s engines flared. He looked back at the humans, who were still watching him, though the drone seemed to be trying to prod them in turn back toward the shelter of the camp building. Hannis gave a wave, and Trakhosk reflexively returned the gesture.

A soft ping announced a new communications link with his suit. Please enter the hatch, Doctor Trakhosk, a male human voice—not synthetic, he thought—said. Sorry for the rush, but we’ve only got a narrow window here.

Right, I’m coming, Trakhosk said. It occurred to him that the comm link in the suit had not requested his permission before connecting to the shuttle. He tried to see if there were any markings on the vessel to suggest which ship it had come from, but in the bad light it was impossible to tell. Before he thought to turn his suit computer back on, he was already inside, the heavy outer hatch closing behind him. He could feel the vibrations of the ship under him as it prepared to lift off.

Lights came on in the airlock as the outer door sealed, revealing a space that was quite cramped. Clearly it had been designed to accommodate two humans in full environmental suits, but it was rare to find a human that approached two and a half meters tall, and Trakhosk had to duck to avoid an emitter unit that protruded from the ceiling.

Apologies for the tight fit, Doctor, the voice said. Please lean against the left wall and hold onto the grips. The decontamination sequence will take less than a minute.

Trakhosk complied, lowering his head as a violet radiance filled the tiny chamber. It was followed by a series of shifting colors, and then the lighting returned to normal. His gel-suit unsealed, seemingly of its own accord, another reminder that he wasn’t in control here. He quickly stepped out of it and folded the suit into a packet that fit within the curved helmet, the only rigid component of the outfit.

The inner door of the airlock unsealed, revealing a young human male in the uniform of the League of Allied Systems. Welcome aboard, Doctor Trakhosk, he said. I am Ensign Callahan. You can put the suit into the cleaning unit right there.

Trakhosk turned and did as directed. Now that he was out of the suit, he was quite aware of the waft rising from his matted fur. Apologies, but I was not given a chance to get cleaned up, he said.

There is a portable sonic unit in the storage locker just to your left, Callahan said. I think you’ll find that it’s set to accommodate a Bulrazi physiology. Can I take your bags?

Trakhosk paused to draw a clean uniform and his comp tablet from one of the heavy satchels before handing them over. It looked like Hannis had done a decent job of packing his possessions, despite the rush. Maybe it was partly due to his habit of keeping his gear organized, just in case he had to move quickly. Though he’d never had to put that habit into practice quite this rapidly before. Thank you. Can you tell me what this is all about?

The young officer hesitated a moment, then said, All I can tell you is that a fold-capable ship has gone missing. And that the k’rakk might be involved.

* * * * *

Chapter 2

For a moment, Trakhosk just stared down at the human in stunned amazement. The k’rakk? But… what… how?

I’m sorry, sir, but there’s nothing else I can tell you. We’ll rendezvous with the ship in about fifteen minutes, and I presume there will be a briefing then. Feel free to join us up front when you’re ready. With that, he went forward, tugging Trakhosk’s bags with him with a grunt of effort.

The Bulrazi scientist’s thoughts roiled as he absently used the sonic cleaner. Callahan had been right; it handled his fur without needing adjustment. For all the haste with which he’d been plucked from the dig site, someone clearly had put time and planning into getting him here. Why?

It wasn’t that much of a mystery, on one level. He was a recognized expert in the k’rakk. Perhaps it had been inevitable that he’d gravitated to a focus on the rapacious insectoid species. He’d still been a child when a k’rakk hive had unleashed an attack on his home district in the rugged mountains of Bulrazar. Their warrior drones had nearly overwhelmed Spireclaw Hold itself, killing many of the Bulrazi defenders before a timely reaction from the planet’s defense forces had rescued the survivors. Trakhosk had not been a part of that defense; he'd spent most of the battle with the young and infirm in the deepest part of the citadel. The bugs had almost gotten to them even there; one of his most vivid memories was the sounds of fighting just outside the fortified chamber, the screams of the creatures as they died the fodder for years of nightmares. Not for the first time, he wondered if making this his life’s work was a talisman against those shadowed memories, a way of reclaiming the part of himself that the k’rakk had seized.

The k’rakk had been a nemesis throughout this part of the galaxy, and not just to the Bulrazi. The League had clashed with them on multiple occasions, and they had an extensive sentry network designed to locate their massive spawnships as they traveled through the Vast between populated systems. The idea of them getting ahold of faster-than-light technology… just the thought caused a shudder to go through him. How had they… no, it served no purpose to speculate without any data. He would have to wait for the briefing that Callahan had promised. But even so, once he’d finished the hasty cleaning he couldn’t help but power up his tablet and send a query to the local network. He got a return ping almost immediately, but was not surprised when he was refused access.

He quickly put on a clean uniform. It was just a simple day suit in neutral colors, but it felt a relief to have on as he snapped the quickseals shut. The deck of the ship rumbled beneath his feet as he made his way forward. In order for him to feel that through the shuttle’s grav array, they had to be really moving.

Those vibrations began to ease as he made his way to the forward compartment of the shuttle. It wasn’t a very large craft, and there was no barrier between the two rows of facing seats and the pilot stations at the very front. Callahan glanced back at him and nodded in greeting, but Trakhosk’s gaze was drawn to the wide viewport of clear duraplas. They were leaving the planet’s atmosphere, and the speckled darkness of the Vast extended ahead. It had been a while since he’d seen clear sky, and for a moment the Bulrazi just took it in. It certainly earned the name his people had given it, he thought. The humans, he knew, had named it outer space when they had still been confined to their homeworld, and from what he had seen, most of them still held onto some of that sense of wonder.

"Coming up on the Roland," the pilot said. He was older than Callahan, his skin a deep brown color, the fringe of hair covering his head so thin as to be almost invisible. The humans came in as many colors as the Bulrazi, but it was always a bit of a shock to see the way that the more military ones shaved themselves almost bald. The man’s attention was divided between the console in front of him and the view through the port. At Callahan’s gesture, Trakhosk came