Strategic Crush: Void Incursion, #3

By MJ Blehart

The attacks by the invaders from the void between galaxies grow fiercer - and new targets are obliterated with their deadly, devastating weapons.

 

And still, their motivation is unknown.

 

Jeck Murtsharn, deposed queen Ashira Aeshar, and the rest of the diverse crew of the Dawnstrider have entered into an alliance with Shi'tra and the pirate crew of the Ravusqan Raider. Rather than get caught in the crossfire they each work to spread knowledge of the unusual attackers - while still practicing business as usual.

 

Alvon Gargarm, freed from his enslavement, joins DDI Hectir and the Cosmic Security Agency. Together, they do all they can to assemble the puzzle pieces of multiple interplanetary situations.

 

Merchant and information broker Avra Pii K'tark'ah has found key information about who the invaders are - but not why they have come.

 

The attacking infiltrators are not the only force from beyond the void. Another arrives, assisting the races of the galaxy and fighting the invaders. But are they saviors – or another threat?

 

To avoid the strategic crush, new allies must be made. Each of the players has a role in that, willingly or not.

 

Have these forces from the void chosen to place the galaxy in the crossfire by chance - or by intention?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Argent Hedgehog Press
• Release date: Jan 23, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223892281

MJ Blehart

MJ BLEHART has been writing stories of high fantasy and sci-fi/space opera throughout his life - the first when he was nine years old. Star Wars and Star Trek were some major influences in his youth. He is a history aficionado. MJ has been a member of the Society for Creative Anachronism (SCA - a medieval re-enactment society) for over 30 years. In the SCA, he studies and teaches 16th century rapier combat (fencing) and court heraldry, enjoys archery, social interactions with people from all over the world, and spending time with friends. MJ blogs regularly, exploring mindfulness, conscious reality creation, positivity, the writing process/business, and creating an amazing life. He's a prolific reader as well. MJ currently resides in south New Jersey with his wife and two feline overlords (cats).

Book preview

Chapter 1

He had never been one to take change well.

Alvon Gargarm had taken a decent, respectable, but unassuming job for one of the largest corporations in Human sectors across space. He had married, fathered a couple of children, and his life was routine.

While Alvon had always wanted to change his lot, he was willing to accept simply being comfortable with what he had. For most of his life, he’d gone along with things, done adequately, and enjoyed his weekends off.

Then an opportunity had come up. It was a shot at something much bigger, but represented an enormous, terrifying change. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for someone like Alvon, and even though it was scary, he’d decided to go for it.

For some time, he’d believed he had chosen poorly.

Hijacked, taken prisoner, and sold into slavery, suddenly he was not just living outside his comfort zone, but beyond his wildest fantasies—or nightmares. During his captivity, he’d physically changed, his skin color permanently altered by an unfamiliar form of radiation.

Unexpectedly, Alvon was rescued. But he soon found that his entire former life was gone—and he had been declared dead.

Somehow Alvon had discovered strength he’d never known he possessed. He’d found comfort among an unusual crew of disparate people from different worlds and walks of life.

Yet he had not found a new purpose. Before his enslavement, Alvon would never have considered that he needed a purpose. He did his job, he spent time with his family, and his routine carried him along. Once he was free, with his old life gone, he found he needed to do...something.

For the first time in his life, Alvon Gargarm understood the need to live a purposeful, more-than-adequate existence.

Joining the Cosmic Security Agency had proven to be what Alvon had long craved for his life. What was more, the position he found himself in was truly amazing.

At first, Deputy Director Hectir had offered to bring Alvon on as a consultant. Alvon would assist when any non-Humans paid the headquarters a visit and needed a written language translator.

After just a couple of days, though, Alvon asked if there was more that he might do. DDI Hectir had him look over all the disconnected information they’d collected on the attacks from the unusual aliens Alvon had seen alongside the crew of the Dawnstrider.

Alvon went over all the data, including rumors, conjecture, and that which Avra Pii K’tark’ah had provided. Soon he had a pretty clear assessment of the attacks. Specifically, he saw which races had been hit, which had not, and where within each race’s territories they’d been attacked.

Impressed by how Alvon had put together a pattern, DDI Hectir had taken Alvon to meet the Director herself.

Ojin Mayfend was not how Alvon had pictured the Director of the Cosmic Security Agency. She was a middle-aged businesswoman, not a large, stout, no-nonsense defender of justice.

DDI Hectir had shown the Director Alvon’s written language translation software. Furthermore, he’d told her how Alvon had made sense of the random information about the attacks.

How, Mir. Gargarm, did you manage to devise this program? Director Mayfend had asked.

Alvon found himself oddly comfortable with her. Normally, authority figures made Alvon nervous. In this situation, though, he was not.

Confidently, he’d explained, Traena’karafrovintirn, my ‘owner’ during my enslavement, gave me a datapad. Whenever I had time, I studied Wunatt and toyed with written Galactic Standard. Along the way, I started to think about patterns—like I used to with transmission signals when I first started at Vector Corp. I began to work with different algorithms to mathematically equate them. Eventually, through trial and error, I developed this.

Director Mayfend had turned her attention to Hectir. Have you analyzed this?

Yes, Director, I have. It’s highly probable that Mr. Gargarm’s exposure to the written Wunatt language, in combination with being injected with a language nanodroid upgrade, is the key.

Director Mayfend had nodded and turned her attention back to Alvon. Do you realize what you have done?

I know that I’ve managed to crack a code a lot of people have been looking for, Alvon replied.

Director Mayfend had looked positively stunned. It’s more than that, Mr. Gargarm. There are academics who have spent their entire lives trying to make a formula to translate written languages into Galactic Standard. For millennia.

Alvon blinked in surprise. "It’s not an entirely new idea, and there are other translator programs, though much less effective than mine. The crew of the Dawnstrider wanted me to sell this program. I guess it hadn’t occurred to me that anyone else had tried."

Director Mayfend had asked Alvon to take several aptitude tests. Once they were completed, they had reconvened to go over the results.

No offense, Mr. Gargarm, Director Mayfend had said. But while your mathematical and reasoning skills are slightly above average, they are not where I expected them to be.

Alvon had expected them to come out even more average than they had. What do you mean?

What the Director is saying, Hectir had clarified, is that your creation is, for lack of a better word, genius. You, however, are not.

Alvon had chuckled. That hardly surprises me.

Hectir had looked toward Director Mayfend. While Mr. Gargarm’s aptitude scores may not be what you might expect, his experience among the Wunatt and ability to adapt has provided him an education the tests cannot measure. This testing would also not account for the increased language recognition ability of his nanodroid upgrade.

But, Alvon had learned, one of the potential side effects of a nanodroid update in adulthood was opening the brain to absorbing and understanding beyond merely language.

Hectir had continued, Mr. Gargarm is an invaluable resource.

Alvon had been taken aback when they had both expressed how impressed they were that he had survived his captivity. Given who he had been at the time of his kidnapping, his survival had not statistically been favorable.

Then they introduced Alvon to the Deputy Director of Operations, Lo-Win Smath, and Deputy Director of Logistics, Ama Geln. They, too, had expressed how impressed they were by his language translation program, as well as his analytical abilities.

They presented Alvon with additional data to analyze, including the Protelna and Shardaelian situation, continued issues between the Ravusq sector governments, and an examination of connections between the black market of the Acarron Oort Camp and suspected smugglers and raiders across Human space.

Analyzing the data made Alvon feel particularly content. For the first time since his youth, he felt enthusiasm for each new day and what he might learn.

To better understand certain information, he’d asked about taking a trip to the Acarron Oort Camp. Without preamble, he was supplied with a ship, a pilot and protector, and off he went.

Not long after that, Alvon made another trip to Protelnaun to speak with an agent monitoring the situation on the ground.

Less than a month after he’d left the Dawnstrider, Director Mayfend called on Alvon. He found himself before not only the director of the CSA, but her three deputy directors as well.

Mr. Gargarm, she had begun. Let me start by congratulating you. Your data analysis thus far has been superb. You have swiftly proven to be an invaluable asset to the CSA.

Alvon blushed. You are too kind, Director.

How would you like a particularly unique job?

In just under a month, Alvon Gargarm had gone from consultant to consulting analyst, to full Senior Special Advisor to the Directors. He’d officially received the title SSA, direct access to the director and all three deputies as needed, a rather large office, and an impressive salary.

At first, Alvon had been concerned that he might encounter jealousy among the various analysts, agents, advisors, and other long-time CSA employees. After all, he’d learned that while the title of SSA carried no rank among the CSA, per se, the position unofficially, but traditionally, placed him just under the deputy directors.

Yet between his written translation program (which was distributed among agents and analysts across the CSA) and his unexpected talent for analysis and strategizing how to handle matters, Alvon was respected.

Hectir, who had become one of Alvon’s confidants, explained that, what was more, Alvon’s unassuming and quiet nature, as well as his overall positive attitude, made him both approachable and likable.

Alvon Gargarm had once been a man of average height, average intelligence, simple tastes, and routine. But ever since his captivity, he now possessed a one-of-a-kind skin color, a broader outlook on life, and an increasing willingness to embrace change.

Along with his title and other perks, Alvon had gained unlimited access to every connection the CSA had. This allowed him unprecedented data from everywhere in Human space and a surprisingly large swath of non-Human space as well.

So Alvon had taken an afternoon to discover where Shara had wound up. She had settled with the kids and her new husband on Galatos, a planet in the Dwarfstar Union, a world similar to Tetran Centauri or Cordian Terrera, featuring a proper mix of Human industries.

The Dwarfstar Union featured nine solar systems with a dwarf star at their center. According to the data Alvon read, theirs was one of the most Human-centric governments in the galaxy. Any trade not within the union was limited almost exclusively to Humans. That explained what Shara’s new husband, an engineer, had been doing on Tetran Centauri.

Shara and the kids were well. In fact, she and her new husband had produced another child together. They had good lives, and Alvon was neither jealous nor upset—just content that they had moved on in his absence.

This came as yet another surprise to Alvon: clearly, he had taken a much more benevolent approach to life since his captivity.

As Senior Special Advisor, for the first time in his life, Alvon felt challenged. He felt as though what he did had an impact on the universe, and real value.

Mostly, Alvon was coordinating a lot of data points. There were numerous CSA agents across space keeping an eye on things. Others were in more covert roles. Alvon was hardly shocked to learn that the CSA had a great deal of information that some governments and other militaries would not appreciate.

He was also collating data regarding the mysterious aliens. Humans, Doolari, Zathru, and Ravusq had all been attacked, though the information was still spotty. However, CSA agents had learned that a taskforce from the Zathru was communicating with other species, and a taskforce from the Nebula Conglomerate StarForce was also working on a similar outreach program.

Alvon examined everything they had on the Protelna Raj and the conspiracy against the Shardaelian queens. There was a lot of circumstantial evidence against multiple high-level officials, but nothing that could be used to help Ashira reclaim power and protect her son. Alvon understood her frustration.

He was in his office looking over a datapad when his information terminal beeped at him. A message had been sent to him via hypercomm.

It was not an internal CSA message. Putting down the datapad he had been reading and examining his terminal, Alvon arose from his desk and went to Deputy Director Hectir’s office.

Yes? the DDI called at his signal. Enter.

Alvon stepped through the door.

Good afternoon, Alvon.

Hectir, Alvon replied, I just need a moment of your time.

Of course, Hectir said. How can I help you?

I just received some very interesting information, Alvon informed him. Independent starship crews have begun to form an information network. They intend to assist one another, should they encounter those unusual ships. They will also share data with the CSA, though the primary sources will remain anonymous.

Hectir leaned back in his chair. Interesting. I take it this is some sort of new smuggler’s alliance, rather than legitimate transport and freight crews?

Actually, Alvon said, it is both, working together.

Chapter 2

The Zathru had agreed to meet aboard the Venture.

Mek Muv Meq had never met a Human before. She had seen them when she had watched some of their HAEN broadcasts. But she had never met one.

Ruk Ruv Ruq had chanced upon a rumor that one of the Human sectors of space - which may have been attacked - was on a mission much like theirs. Zathru Marine Corp intelligence learned who, and they arranged to meet in neutral space, between the claimed sectors of any race.

Mek Muv Meq had gone to an observation port to see the far larger Nebula Conglomerate starship. Unlike the external Waziri’s heavily armed civilian transport, the Human taskforce was aboard a warship.

The Venture was impressive, though similar to Zathru Marine supercarriers. It did have rather unusual hull plating, and that she recognized such surprised Mek Muv Meq. The makeup of starships was not something she’d ever found all that important.

Impressive, no? asked Vek Vuv Veq, stepping beside her at the observation port. The aide-de-camp for the External Waziri had become an unexpected friend, and Mek Muv Meq was beginning to find herself pleased when he was near.

Our supercarriers are larger, Mek Muv Meq remarked. At least, she thought they were.

Vek Vuv Veq chuckled. True. This one, however, was supposed to be retired.Mek Muv Meq glanced over at Vek Vuv Veq as he consulted his ever-present datapad. "The Venture was taken out of service because the class was entirely replaced. Apparently, they still use the ship for special purposes and experimental weapons."

Mek Muv Meq looked at his eyes to see if he was serious. Experimental weapons?

Vek Vuv Veq put a finger to his lips. He did seem to take pleasure in sharing classified information with Mek Muv Mek, which she knew was both a result of his desire to show off and a sign of trust. Intelligence believes they do that with several of their starships. Retrofits are cheaper than building test platforms, and you keep a resource available for special needs.

Ah. Mek Muv Meq understood. So, they can employ them for taskforce deployments...or if they need additional craft in times of war.

Just so, said Vek Vuv Veq. He looked out the observation port again. The Waziri says that the admiral commanding the Human taskforce is something of a legend. They are not just looking for information from other races, as we are. They are looking for them.

Them? asked Mek Muv Mek. But it came to her immediately: The attackers.

Vek Vuv Veq nodded.

Mek Muv Meq looked at the imposing supercarrier. It did not seem at all out of date. But this was in no way her area of expertise.

There is another rumor about them, Vek Vuv Veq said.

Oh?

They also have a survivor.

Mek Muv Meq gave him full attention. Really?

Vek Vuv Veq nodded. That’s what we have learned. This will likely make for a very interesting conversation.

Since the Zathru had no formal relationship with any of the Human sectors of space, there was no protocol for just how to handle this situation. If it were a government official on the Human starship, there would be a plan.

Since there were no hostilities between the Zathru and Human governments—and never had been, when it came to the Nebula Conglomerate—meeting aboard the much larger Human supercarrier seemed a logical plan.

Mek Muv Meq soon found herself at the main portal alongside the External Waziri, Vek Vuv Veq, and the seven other members of the Zathru delegation. They had landed their ship in a bay aboard the supercarrier and waited for Ruk Ruv Ruq to signal them to open the hatch.

Sir? questioned Vek Vuv Veq.

The External Waziri took a deep breath. Proceed.

The hatch opened. Across the wide-open bay, only a few yards away, stood the Humans.

Mek Muv Meq was in her most formal uniform, and it took her a moment to realize that the Humans they were about to meet with were not similarly decked out. She realized, as the party approached, that she could not entirely tell one from another.

A Human male extended a hand toward the external Waziri. Ruk Ruv Ruq? I am Admiral Vin Dromm.

The external Waziri shook hands with the Human. A pleasure to meet you, Admiral.

The admiral gestured. If you and your party will join us? We’ll meet in one of our observation lounges.

Thank you, Ruk Ruv Ruq replied.

Two of the Humans began to move, followed by the admiral and external Waziri. Mek Muv Meq fell into step beside Vek Vuv Veq, with the rest of the Zathru behind them. The last five Humans followed at the end.

Do all Humans look nearly identical to you? Vek Vuv Veq asked her under his breath.

Mek Muv Meq stifled a chuckle. That they do.

They made their way through numerous corridors and into a large lift. It was a big enough space for everyone, but once the doors closed, it felt crowded.

Damnedest design choice, commented Admiral Dromm as the lift began to rise. I mean, when you receive guests in a certain bay, you would think the designers would consider keeping meeting rooms there, too.

Ruk Ruv Req chuckled. Is this not a warship, Admiral?

Well, yes, Admiral Dromm replied. Still, seems like poor design to me.

The lift slowed, then stopped, and the doors slid open. The group continued out and down a corridor, entering a cabin on the port side.

Mek Muv Meq found herself in a large cabin with a huge oval conference table at its center and large portals looking out into space. The other three walls were equipped with display screens, all of which currently depicted Human works of art and photography.

Please, the admiral gestured. Have a seat.

The party accepted his invitation, and Admiral Dromm began, I know that this meeting is unusual in many ways. Our various military intelligence agencies learned we were both performing a similar mission.

So, it would seem, agreed Ruk Ruv Req.

Nobody said anything more. Everyone seemed to be waiting for anyone else to speak.

Mek Muv Meq sighed and broke the silence. Both of our militaries have had the same experience. We can try to hide it all we want, but in doing that, we are just making matters more difficult.

Admiral, the External Waziri said, this is Petty Officer First Class Mek Muv Meq. She is the only survivor of one of these attacks.

The admiral looked at the male Human across from Mek Muv Meq. Well then, Commander, it would seem you are not the only survivor after all.

The Human male across the table from her looked directly at Mek Muv Meq. That’s something of a surprise. He extended his hand. Sub-Commander Solman Dirn.

Mek Muv Meq shook his hand. You seem to have gotten away unscathed. I was not so lucky.

Dirn shrugged. Maybe. But I watched a lot of good people get vaporized, and I managed a jump to hyperspace by only a hair’s width.

Sub-Commander Dirn is a fighter pilot, Admiral Dromm informed them.

Petty Officer Mek Muv Meq was a gunner, the external Waziri said. She managed to eject before her pod could be vaporized...but only barely survived the experience.

Mek Muv Meq looked across the table at the other survivor. They destroyed everything, she said. How did you survive?

Dirn sighed. I fought. I managed to avoid getting hit. When the withdrawal was ordered, I was at the outskirts of the battlefield. Got fired upon as I jumped, lost my tail, but managed to keep flying on course. It was the best possible timing.

Mek Muv Meq glanced down at her cybernetic legs. I ejected from the gun pod at the last second. I thought I’d failed to get clear...until I woke up in hospital. Nobody else got clear.

There was a moment of silence. Dirn regarded Mek Muv Meq carefully, but she could tell it was with respect.

Let’s face it, Admiral Dromm said. Neither of our governments wants to make this public. We are both keeping it close because we don’t want to show weakness.

That has been our policy, the external Waziri replied, and yet we believe that this threat is too great to continue to guard against our neighbors.

Look, as much as everyone has tried keeping this secret, Dirn began, it’s not hidden. Our own forces are not entirely unaware of what has been happening.

Nor are ours, agreed Mek Muv Meq. She and her fellow survivor ignored the reproachful looks from their respective superiors.

Admiral Dromm took up the conversation. Some of the elements of our government and military recognize that if they continue these attacks, in time they will hit a larger group, closer to a main system...or they will start attacking civilians.

None of us want that to happen, said the external Waziri.

I shudder to imagine the devastation those weapons could cause on a planetary scale, said Mek Muv Meq.

Again, there was a moment of silence.

What, exactly, are you seeking? asked Admiral Dromm.

Shared intelligence, replied the external Waziri. It is apparent to us that this is an entirely new threat. No other known race has ever shown weapons such as these...and we have firsthand accounts verifying both their destructive capabilities and their peculiarity.

Who else is cooperating with you? asked Admiral Dromm.

We have only managed to talk with the Doolari, said Ruk Ruv Req.

Thus far, we’ve only held discussions with one of the Ravusq governments, said Admiral Dromm.

Human, Ravusq, Zathru, Doolari, remarked Dirn. That’s a rather broad cross section of races. But at the same time, coldly logical.

How do you figure? asked Admiral Dromm.

"Our four races have associated with one another