They Lurk Among Us, Lokians 2

They Lurk Among Us

Lokians Book Two

Aaron Dennis

The Lokians series Copyright 2011 by Aaron Dennis

2nd edition Published by StoriesbyDennis.com February 3rd of 2017

Smashwords Edition February 22nd of 2017

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any form, including digital, and electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes for use in reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

Prologue

The flow of time is not a constant. The limitations of man are not concrete. What can one do once the doors behind reality are opened?

One man is blessed with a gift, burdened by a responsibility; somewhere in the reaches of space-time, he travels, seeking only to continue doing what he knows in his heart is right. Once a respected Naval Captain, now working for The Bureau, Riley O’Hara continues searching for answers.

Eight months prior, in July of 2111, Earth’s Navy surveyed a new planet, one meeting all requirements for colonization. Eon was a celestial body located in the Gemini system, a system of twin suns. For all intents and purposes, it was a new Earth.

During the survey mission to Eon’s surface, Captain O’Hara and his special operations team discovered alien beacons. Soon after, Admiral Lay of Earth Navy made first contact with a race of aliens called Thewls. A detailed exchange of information transpired.

The Thewls convened on Eon with the Navy’s spec ops team. During the meet and greet, Humans came to learn that a second race of aliens called Lokians were on the prowl. This devastating force ravaged the galaxy as it destroyed civilizations to harvest technology.

Ambassador Weh of the Thewls proposed a plan. A unified front between men and Thewls was the only solution. Careful deliberations occurred behind closed doors as Admiral Lay slowly sequestered himself from the special operations team’s endeavor. Suddenly, the brash and young Captain O’Hara was in charge of the Humans’ most delicate mission in military history.

He led his team aboard a Thewlian vessel, joining their admiral, Yew, in a search throughout the galaxy for a weapon to wield against the so-called impending threat, the Lokians. Upon its discovery, the weapon was kept secret from nearly everyone on Horizon colony, including Admiral Lay’s second in command, Rear Admiral Shaw. At the end of the ordeal, the Lokian threat was curbed, but the captain did not receive a hero’s welcome. He woke up, injured from the final battle, in a hospital tent. The suns on Eon caressed his face as he looked over his commanding officer. Admiral Lay was concerned. He relayed to O’Hara what had transpired. Only recently conscious, and recovering from his wounds, the young man was shocked to learn the President of the North American Union had decided to shut down Horizon colony.

Unbeknownst to anyone, O’Hara boarded a craft with two agents from The Bureau, Adams and Franklin, whom served under the captain during the Lokian assault. Their whereabouts are currently unknown to both the Navy and President Montrose.

Chapter One

Phoenix Crew was officially disbanded; Swain, Fitzpatrick, Day, DeReaux, all of them were reassigned. It was a modest form of punishment enacted by their former leader, Admiral Shaw. With no other course of action, he commissioned Captain Bragg of the Phoenix to fulfill the removal of civilians from Horizon. The routine mission was supposed to have been O’Hara’s punishment, but he was off the radar, vanished without a trace.

Shaw’s graying hair gave away his level of stress. He stood there, staring at the strange vessel, the Bohemian. During the process of disassembling the colony, just weeks after Riley O’Hara’s departure, President Montrose had arrived on Eon by way of that odd craft. Immediately, the President had pulled Shaw aside to initiate a special investigation of the former spec ops team.

Montrose had wanted every detail on every aspect of the top secret mission. He had been outraged by O’Hara’s escape. He had begrudged Lay’s involvement as well, but that morning on Eon, Shaw walked up the vessel’s steps and into the airlock. A man in a black suit led him to the bridge. The President, a corpulent man, snapped his fingers and the menacing man walked out of sight.

I’m glad you saw fit to keep me up to date, Shaw, Montrose gave a crooked smile.

The aging admiral took a seat in a leather chair next to a small monitor. He looked around the bridge. The ship reminded him of alien technology utilized during the Lokian mission. The monitors and consoles were unfamiliar. They were of Human utility, but not design. Shaw met Montrose’s eyes. He felt uneasy with the big man presiding over him.

I did what I felt was necessary for Earth. We can’t have all these secret alien meetings, and Lay was getting carried away with his trust in O’Hara, Shaw replied with a strained tone.

Montrose walked over to him. Standing behind the thin, older man, he looked down onto the top of his head. The President then placed his thick hands on the man’s shoulders and rubbed him through his full dress jacket, a black blazer weighed down by medals and ribbons. The action made Shaw even more uncomfortable, causing him to fidget in his seat a little. Montrose then eased his round face next to his subordinate’s ear. His warm breath had the admiral on the verge of running away or throwing a fist.

Where does your trust lie?

My home world, my country, Shaw responded without turning around.

Montrose squeezed the admiral’s shoulders. And?

You, Sir, Shaw replied, hesitantly.

Good, he said with a friendly pat. After walking over to the helmsman’s chair, across from the admiral, he swiveled 180 degrees to face the freaked out individual, who was stroking his thin, brown beard to calm himself. We need to find that captain. His going AWOL is an insult!

Shaw nodded once. Then, he attempted to adjust the fitting of his dress jacket.

Agreed. I went over the reports Lay had in his data archives, but I think something’s missing. I have all of O’Hara’s debriefings, but after he boarded that Thewlian vessel, much of whatever transpired has been left out. He was close to his team, though. We should start with them.

President Montrose tugged at his suit jacket. The shiny, black silk contoured his robust figure. He stuck his face out and shook his head while holding the silver tie as though loosening the collar, but the shirt was practically weathertight around his flabby neck.

Good. Excellent. You start with them. I’ll find John and see what I can squeeze out of him. Now, get out of my ship, Admiral, Montrose said with an evil grin.

Shaw excused himself before walking out of the Bohemian. Good Lord, that fat man is grotesque. He felt like he needed a shower, but was less than excited by the thought of his superior exacting vengeance for even a slight delay in his new mission. He walked briskly from the ship to his office. The short stroll on Eon’s former Horizon colony allowed a moment’s respite.

Eon was a strange place; perhaps as strange as any other colony, any other planet. The twin suns, Gemini, hovered about the purple sky like two orange orbs. While they provided enough light to see, it was never truly daylight. Instead, a sort of twilight persisted due to the planet’s unusual orbit, and soon, the day season was to come to an end, giving way to a much darker season, a much darker time. Before Shaw entered his office, he took a big breath of natural air.

He swiped his I.D. card. A beep followed by a clank indicated the green, metal door was unlocked. He entered the small, green building, shut the door behind him, and sat at his desk where he stared at his computer for a moment. There were very few people left on Horizon, giving the whole of the installation the air of a ghost town. Nervously, Shaw cocked his mouth to the side and ground his teeth.

Captain Bragg had efficiently evacuated most of the colonists and just about all the supplies. That task originally belonged to O’Hara, and just thinking about the entire mess left him in a state of great agitation. Looking around the cramped space, he saw his folders, notepads, and memory units. Everything was scattered. Better get a move on, he thought as he turned his computer on.

The screen activated, prompting him with a password query. He entered his password: Victory33. Next, he pulled up a folder containing dossiers of the former special operations team. Lieutenant Commander Albert Swain was a good place to start.

The information on Swain showed he had been an integral part of the initial contact with Thewls. If not for Swain, they might have never uncovered the secrets of the beacons. Shaw set to the task of relaying a message to Presh, Eon’s moon and research facility.

Like all members of the former spec ops team, he had been punished and was dutifully revising engine designs for military vessels from the moon station. His involvement on the Thewlian Explorer during the Lokian invasion garnered him the knowledge to push Human technology beyond its previous limitations, so rather than arresting a man for saving the galaxy, the admiral had seen fit to confine the commander to engineering. Shaw was witness to some of that bewildering technology first hand, but had also been preoccupied with overseeing colonial developments during the Lokian mission. The admiral was aware that it might take some time to shuttle Swain in from Presh, so he sent a message of urgency and moved on to the next member of O’Hara’s crew, Lieutenant Sara Day.

She was the former pilot of the Phoenix, and Shaw knew he needed to put pressure on her, since she was so close to the young captain. Unfortunately, she had already been reassigned to a supply ship, the Convoy-7. Her punishment was the menial task of moving resources from one colony to another within the Alpha belt—a waste of her talents. The admiral sent her direct superior a message requesting her assistance.

Many members of O’Hara’s crew had died in battle, leaving only a couple of leads. Shaw rubbed his aging face as he thought about the crew, his former crew. God damn aliens…and O’Hara. The only remaining members were Helen Fitzpatrick and Lamont DeReaux. Before a total breakdown in communications occurred, Fitzpatrick had managed to obtain a recommendation from former Admiral Lay, just before he was forced into an early retirement by Montrose. In doing so, she secured a new assignment, effectively distancing herself from the political mess. Now, Commander Fitzpatrick was in charge of a special recon unit on Mars, though her ship had not yet arrived at its destination.

Shaw decided to set her aside and focused on her partner, DeReaux, who was much closer. He was stationed on Alpha-2. There, he taught long range weaponry to the children at the academy. Soon enough, I’ll get something out of them.

****

President Montrose had personally sought out his former rival, John Lay. Though he had wanted to Court Martial Lay for treason, there was really no grounds for such an act, and especially no way to punish him without bringing to light the dealings with aliens, which was still classified to a degree, so he provided the old man a choice; resign or receive a dishonorable discharge, which resulted in losing his pension and benefits. No sooner had Lay received the ultimatum that he boarded a vessel for Earth, Temple, Texas, specifically.

Montrose sat before his computer, scanning military flight records, which indicated Lay had boarded a transport ship to the Alpha-3 colony. From there, he was scheduled to board a second ship to Century colony, a colony stationed between Earth and the Alpha colonies, which operated as the largest Human colony due to its proximity to both ends of the colonial spectrum. At a normal rate of travel, and utilizing known wormholes, a trip from Century to Earth took close to five years, and that meant Lay was on a ten-year sojourn through a vast portion of empty space.

Grumbling in dissatisfaction over having given Lay a way out, Montrose mentally reprimanded himself. He had had no clue that Shaw had such little intel regarding the Lokian mission, and he hadn’t thought for a second that O’Hara was able to vanish, so he wanted to nab Lay before he boarded the second ship on Alpha-3. The portly President turned from his monitor to behold his private room.

The lavish surroundings befitted a king, a crooked king. Gold trimmed vases, gorgeous paintings, silk sheets, and other comforts bedecked the Bohemian. Montrose ran fat fingers through his silvery hair then reached over to the intercom and called his detail.

Shaughnessy, Hayes, clear us for Alpha-3.

The men at the center console sat in comfortable leather chairs. Hayes promptly unlocked the ignition mechanism built into the Element-115 alloy structure and started the engine. Like Thewlian ships, the President’s vessel utilized a gyroscopic, zero-gravity generator. The vessel remained silent as the ship powered on.

We’re up and running, Sir, Shaughnessy relayed back.

The ship’s appearance was reminiscent of ancient dirigibles, possessing a stocky, tubular hull with a rotating wing system. The wings circled freely around the hull to provide excellent air and space handling while confined by a planet’s atmosphere.

Hayes read through his black shades from the center console on the bridge, which displayed everything he needed to see via external optics built into the Bohemian’s fuselage. A second monitor was built into the far end of the bridge, allowing additional personnel a firsthand view of the helmsman’s perspective. Digital readouts also flashed the ship’s status.

Both he and his partner, Shaughnessy, were mammoth and muscular men. Their arms bulged through suit jackets. Their poker faces never flinched. As he punched in coordinates for Alpha-3, he gazed at the monitor, simply waiting. Clearance for Alpha-3 came back clean, and he requested permission to land at the docking station within the hour. Most Human ships didn’t boast the capability to travel the distance from Eon to Alpha-3 in an hour, but the Bohemian was no Human ship.

Shaughnessy, open the bay door, the dark skinned man muttered.

Copy that. She’s open, Shaughnessy replied after pressing a button to remotely open the bay door.

From inside an immense hangar on the outskirts of Horizon, the sleek, silvery ship rose effortlessly. Hayes then guided it forwards. Before long, President Montrose was rocketed off the colony. Within seconds, they pierced the atmosphere. Hayes then hit the F.T.L. drive, propelling the crew inside at faster than light speeds, which was far from customary; F.T.L. was supposed to be new tech, designed in part by Swain, and such speeds weren’t to be used within the boundaries of solar systems.

The self-evident truth was that Montrose and family were not run-of-the-mill people. Apart from the fact that he was the President of the North American Union, the family name was known far and wide, wider even than his waist. Montroses the worlds over owned many businesses, or business fronts, supposedly covers for money laundering, organized crime, racketeering, and the pirating of secret technology. Those, and other reasons, were why the President was privy to the Bohemian. It had nothing to do with Earth politics.

The hour long journey progressed quite smoothly. Hayes and Shaughnessy peered into the display monitor, which showed little other than the ship’s integrity. It was impossible to see matter while traveling at F.T.L., so the two passed a stoic expression. When they came within proximity of Alpha-3, the vessel automatically powered down the F.T.L. drive, slowing to a normal rate of travel—three quarters of light speed.

On the wall mounted screen, Alpha-3 prominently came in to view, a colony built within a large asteroid amidst the Alpha belt. It was located relatively close to Eon. Hayes slowed the ship to a near halt then set her down on a landing platform. The docking station had many massive steel contraptions, which, due to innumerable, subtle variations in ship designs, the platforms, or lifts, positioned vessels for docking. Since so many different vessels had vastly dissimilar designs, the lifts had to maneuver the crafts in order to safely align the airlocks. Unfortunately, there was no way to hide the Bohemian’s alien design, but there were no prying eyes, at least none that mattered to Montrose.

We’ve arrived, Sir, Hayes proudly relayed through the intercom.

Montrose worked his way out of the private quarters. It was located high at the rear of the vessel. From there, he took the elevator down to the common room. He glared at his man.

"How much longer before the Juniper docks?"

A little over an hour, Sir. Will you be stepping–

Hayes hadn’t even a chance to finish his sentence before Montrose snorted and left. Back in his private chamber, he helped himself to dinner. The plan was to intercept Lay at the customs office, where he had to check in for the Earth Navy database before boarding the second ship bound for Century.

Suddenly, a banging interrupted his meal. Mister President, Shaughnessy spoke through the door.

What? Montrose braked.

I have information….

The President grumbled then clumsily worked his way from his chair, leaving a plate of pasta primavera, to open the door. Shaughnessy stared calmly through his black glasses, downwards, to the figure of his boss. The only thing that gave him confidence was knowledge that Montrose wasn’t able to see his eyes. The President then returned to his food.

"The Juniper had an engine malfunction. John Lay and the remaining passengers are dead. Figured I should tell you in person…."

Montrose dropped his fork with a clank. He knocked the plate off his table and stood once more. A threatening groan erupted from the President’s throat as he approached his man. Shaughnessy’s jaw clenched. Montrose chewed the last few bits of pasta. He swallowed before speaking.

Lay is dead? How do you know?

Customs forwarded the message to your archive. They felt it was urgent.

Fine. Get back to the bridge!

Turning red, and practically choking on wrath, The President paced around his room, hashing out a plan. After a moment, he reached for his comm. unit and called Admiral Shaw.

Yes, Sir? Shaw’s voice came back.

"Investigate the Juniper debacle!"

I’m sorry?

Lay’s ship, you God damn idiot! It blew up. Find out what happened, Montrose screamed then cut communications.

****

Shaw was left holding the bag again. He had only just received word that Swain was on his way. Now, I’m supposed to find out about this accident, too? He shook his head and sighed in disbelief. A knock on his door demanded his attention. He pressed a button on his desk, unlocking the door. A beep indicated entry was available.

Swain walked in and closed the door behind him. He turned then saluted. The Lieutenant Commander was a large, black man. A superior intellect burned behind his bright eyes, and the prowess of a warrior resonated through massive hands.

Lieutenant Commander Albert Swain, reporting, Sir, he stated then dropped his salute.

Yes. Thank you for coming on short notice. Swain, I was going over O’Hara’s reports. It wasn’t so long ago that I was in the former captain’s shoes, Shaw started, but paused momentarily.

Of course, Sir, I still have fond memories of your leadership. What exactly can I do for you?

Swain was an extremely savvy individual. The mission with O’Hara provided him a great deal of experience, and he stood at attention without ever making eye contact with his former crew leader. He remembered how well Shaw ran his crew when he was captain, yet he continued staring at a point above the admiral’s head.

I see that you initiated the first steps, which led to the meeting with Thewls. Can you tell me a little about that, Shaw pried as he held aloft a documents pad, a digital records archive.

The commander’s large, ebony stature remained motionless. He took a brief moment before answering. Classified, Sir.

Admiral Shaw grit his teeth, saying, Come, now, Swain; I’m trying to do what’s right here…it doesn’t matter, you know? Can you tell me how the captain came to a decision to help Thewls? According to my reports, Lay removed himself from the proceedings. Did he have something to hide?

Shaw rifled through documents by sliding his finger over the digital screen. It became increasingly evident to Swain that Shaw lacked the necessary tools for interrogation.

Classified, Sir.

A wince flickered over the old man’s visage. He then stood, throwing the pad onto his desk. He tried to make eye contact with Swain, but the big man shifted his eyes to an even higher position.

Damn it, Swain! Do you understand that O’Hara got half his crew killed? Do you understand that he single handedly caused the shutdown of Horizon…well?!

Swain slowly lowered his eyes to meet Shaw’s. Classified, Sir, he stated, slowly, calmly.

With no alternative, Shaw picked up a comm. unit. Come get this man out of here.

He then pushed the button, unlocking the door again. Men clad in black stepped in. They began