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    The Spoils of War
    The Spoils of War
    The Spoils of War
    Ebook315 pages4 hours

    The Spoils of War

    By Richard Turner

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    About this ebook

    In this penultimate story of The Kurgan War, Michael and Tarina Sheridan arrive at the Kurgan homeworld to join Ambassador Sheridan in signing the peace treaty finally ending years of bloody war. However, before the treaty can be signed the Kurgans are attacked by an aggressor species who ruthless slaughter millions. Michael Sheridan realizes that to protect Earth, he must join with the Kurgans and try to find out who or what was behind the attack.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRichard Turner
    Release dateJun 17, 2018
    ISBN9780463474112
    The Spoils of War
    Author

    Richard Turner

    Richard Turner proudly served his country for more than thirty years, all across the globe.He wanted to try something new and now spends his time writing.I am an avid reader and especially like reading all about history. Some of my favourite authors include: James Rollins, Andy McDermmott and the many novels of Clive Cussler.

    Read more from Richard Turner

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      Book preview

      The Spoils of War - Richard Turner

      Something’s not right.

      Michael Sheridan sat up in his bed and looked around the darkened room and listened. The hum of the ship’s engine changed slightly.

      What’s up? asked Tarina Sheridan groggily.

      I’m not sure, but I think the ship has decreased its speed, he replied.

      Why would they do that? she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

      I’m not sure. Sheridan switched on a light and waited a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. He looked around their quarters searching for something unseen. He swung his legs over the side of their bed and stood up. Sheridan stretched his arms over his head and heard the bones in his back crack and pop. Scar tissue covered a large portion of his back and chest. Sheridan grabbed a rumpled shirt off the floor and slipped it on.

      Would you mind telling me what you’re doing? asked his wife.

      I’m going to take a walk to see what’s going on.

      Tarina pointed to the comms console on the wall. You know you could use that and save yourself the trouble.

      Sheridan smiled at his wife. You know me, once I’m awake I can’t go back to sleep right away. The walk will do me good to clear my mind.

      Yeah, I do know you. It’s taken a year for the plastic surgeons to make your face handsome again. Try not to damage it again.

      Ouch. That’s fairly shallow. I thought you married me for my charm and personality.

      No, it was your looks. Hurry back. This is our last night on this ship before we reach the Kurgan homeworld, and once we land, you know that our time there will not be our own. So, if you want some alone time, if you know what I mean, the next few hours are it.

      Sheridan smiled mischievously. When you put it like that, I guess I could use the intercom.

      Tarina reached down and tossed him his sandals. When you come back.

      Sheridan slipped on his footwear and opened the door to their quarters. The hallway was quiet. He stepped outside and walked to the closest elevator. Sheridan rode the lift to the bridge where he found the nighttime duty staff sitting at their duty stations under the watchful eye of a young lieutenant commander.

      Can I help you, sir? asked the officer.

      Perhaps. I thought I felt a change in the ship’s engines and wondered why we were slowing down, replied Sheridan.

      The duty officer got out of her chair and looked over the shoulder of the ship’s engineer. This is odd. You’re right. We shouldn’t be slowing down for another six hours.

      Ma’am, my console says we’re going the correct speed, reported the ship’s helmsman.

      That may be so, but that doesn’t correlate with the information on the engineer’s computer, she replied.

      The hair shot straight up on the back of Sheridan’s neck. Commander, wake your captain and put the ship on yellow alert.

      Sir, you’re just a passenger, you can’t give orders, objected the duty officer.

      Commander, think about it. Two of your key computer systems are giving you contradictory information. Someone or something has caused this to happen. You can stand there waiting for another thing to go wrong, but I’m not. Sheridan turned to leave.

      Sir, where do you think you are going?

      To check on the ship’s engines, and if you’re not too busy, I suggest you dispatch a security team there right away. Sheridan spun and ran for the elevator.

      A warning came over the vessel’s speaker system. Yellow alert! Captain to the bridge. I say again, yellow alert! Captain Kimura to the bridge.

      Sheridan watched the numbers count down on the elevator until he reached the engineering deck. The second the doors opened, he bolted down the long corridor until he came to the engine room. Sheridan slowed down and stopped by the partially open doors. He peered inside and swore. On the floor lay a crewman with his head bashed in. A pool of blood seeped out from under the man’s shattered skull. Sheridan thought about waiting for the security personnel to arrive but couldn’t risk anything else going wrong. Like a cat, he slid through the open doors and dashed over to a tall generator where he took cover. Sheridan looked around for something to use as a weapon, spotted an electronic wrench, and grabbed hold of it. The tool was heavy in his hand.

      Footsteps.

      Sheridan felt his heart race. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for the coming fight.

      You can come out of there, Major Sheridan, said a man with a strong Slavic accent. I have a machine pistol, and you at best have a wrench.

      Sheridan gritted his teeth and decided to play for time. What if I don’t want to?

      The man fired a burst of caseless ammo at the generator, ripping off pieces of metal and plastic. Let’s not play any more games, Major. Get rid of your weapon and come out with your hands on your head!

      Sheridan tossed the wrench out onto the floor, rested his hands on his head, and walked out. His eyes widened when he saw it was the ship’s executive officer pointing a gun at him. So, Commander Ion, what brings you down here at this hour of the morning?

      I’m here because of you and all the people like you who sold us out to the bloody Kurgs, Ion bitterly replied.

      Sheridan scrunched his forehead. How on earth did I sell out the Federation to the Kurgans?

      You and your father ended the war before we could get our revenge on those flesh-eating freaks.

      I think you meant to say that we saved countless millions of lives by forcing the Kurgans to the negotiating table to accept a lasting peace.

      Ion raised his pistol. His right eye twitched uncontrollably. My brother and my younger sister died in the war. When the army retook Milton-7, they never found their bodies. I heard what the Kurgs did with our people who were taken prisoner. I pray my sister died quickly before they let their inbred Chosen soldiers have their way with her.

      The faint sound of the elevator doors opening and closing caught Sheridan’s ear. Commander, I’m sorry for your loss, but the war is behind us. Have you tried speaking with someone from the Civilian Repatriation Committee? They’ve been finding people all over the Kurgan Empire and bringing them home. They still could be alive.

      Screw that. The Repatriation Committee and the rest of the government don’t care. They just want to sweep people like my family under the rug so they can make peace with our enemies. My sister was probably tortured, raped, and then murdered by the very animals you want us to sign a peace treaty with. Traitors like you make me sick.

      Drop the weapon, sir! ordered a security crewman from the doorway.

      Ion snarled and fired off a burst at the man.

      Sheridan saw his opening and leaped at Ion’s outstretched arm. He grabbed his opponent’s wrist and turned it over until Ion let out a pained yelp and let go of the pistol. Sheridan kicked the gun aside, and in one smooth move, he swept Ion’s legs out from underneath him. With a loud thump, Ion crashed to the deck. Sheridan held onto his adversary’s arm and kept twisting it over until the man cried out in agony.

      I’ve got him, sir, said a redheaded security crewman.

      Sheridan waited until Ion’s wrists were restrained before stepping back. Where’s your partner? he asked the redhead.

      He’s still in the corridor. He was shot through the hand.

      Sheridan grabbed Ion by the collar and yanked him up off the floor. What were you doing down here?

      Ion glared hatefully at Sheridan before spitting on the floor.

      Crewman, get as many people as you can down here right away and sweep this compartment for explosives, ordered Sheridan. He pushed Ion away and looked at where the traitor had come from. Sheridan wasn’t familiar with the layout of the engine compartment on this transport vessel but guessed the perlinium rods used to power the ship were held in a nearby sealed chamber due to their high radioactivity.

      Sir, an explosives disposal team is on their way, announced the redheaded crewman.

      Sheridan nodded as he walked toward a room with a radioactive sign on the door. He tried the door and found it locked. Sheridan took a step back and examined the outside of the door. As far as he could tell nothing was amiss, but his instincts told him otherwise. Sheridan tapped his foot on the deck while his eyes searched for what was troubling him. He took a step forward and examined the door’s access console. Sheridan was about to touch it when he spotted a screw was missing.

      Over here, I’ve found something! yelled Sheridan.

      A newly arrived bomb disposal expert ran over, set his pack on the floor, and gently moved Sheridan out of his way. The technician removed a scanning device from his belt and ran it over the console. A red light flashed on. There’s a bomb back there, said the man calmly.

      Can I help? asked Sheridan.

      Please open my pack and hand me the spray can you find inside, replied technician.

      Sheridan unzipped the pack and grabbed hold of the can. Here, he said, handing off the spray.

      The technician shook the can for a few seconds and then sprayed the console. In the blink of an eye, the entire mechanism froze in a sheet of ice. The man grabbed an electronic screwdriver from his belt and in seconds removed the rest of the screws.

      Sheridan watched over the tech’s shoulder as he removed the console cover and looked inside. There were two slender vials of red liquid hooked up to the door’s wiring. The bomb expert cut the wires to the bottles and removed them one by one. He sealed the explosives in steel jars and stood up. Nearest airlock? asked the man.

      I think I saw one by the elevator, replied Sheridan, amazed at how calmly the tech was taking everything. His stomach felt like a storm was raging inside of it.

      Thanks, replied the man, taking the bomb containers with him.

      A voice came over the vessel’s speakers. Major Sheridan, please report to the bridge.

      Sheridan left the engine room and made his way back to the bridge. By now the regular duty staff was at their stations. Captain Kimura sat in his chair. He was a stout man with salt and pepper hair.

      Major, my crew and I are in your debt, said Kimura. We watched everything on the main screen.

      Captain, your bomb disposal expert deserves your praise too, said Sheridan.

      Major, if you hadn’t detected the change in the engines, who knows where we would be now?

      The bomb I get. What I don’t understand is, what did Ion gain by slowing the ship down?

      Perhaps I can explain, said the ship’s navigational officer.

      Please do, said Sheridan.

      I’ve recalculated our flight plan and saw that instead of arriving at the Kurgan homeworld, we would have come out of our jump next to a Kurgan space dock. The resulting explosion from our engines would have undoubtedly taken the Kurgan installation and at least five thousand lives along with it.

      Sheridan shook his head. Opposition to the peace treaty was still widespread on both sides of the border. He turned to Kimura. Sir, I doubt Ion is alone. It would be prudent if the ship was searched from top to bottom for more explosives.

      Kimura nodded and passed the order to his new executive officer.

      If I’m not needed, I’ll be in my quarters, said Sheridan.

      Please carry on, replied Kimura.

      Sheridan found Tarina waiting by the door to their room wearing a tan flight suit. I thought you were just going for a walk, said Tarina.

      You know me. One thing led to another, and I found myself in the engine room with a fanatic intent on blowing us out of the stars.

      Tarina raised an eyebrow.

      Scout’s honor.

      Are we safe?

      For now, I think so. However, I doubt anyone will be getting any more rest on the ship until we reach our destination.

      They stepped back into their quarters and let the door close behind them.

      Michael, I thought the war was behind us, said Tarina.

      Sheridan took his wife’s hands in his. For some, the war will never end. Wendy refused to come with us to witness the formal signing of the peace treaty. I doubt she’ll ever forgive the Kurgans for what they did to her.

      Can you blame her?

      No, but at some point all of her hate has to give way, or it’ll eat at her soul and end up destroying our friend.

      It’s going to be hard for her. At least she’s got Alan to keep her company.

      He’s a good man. Sheridan glanced over at their unmade bed. A hunger stirred in him. Before he could say a word, Tarina reached up and slowly pulled the zipper on her fight suit all the way down. Sheridan delicately peeled off the suit, exposing her taut warm brown skin.

      No more walks. You’re mine for the next few hours. Got it, mister?

      Yes, Ma’am, replied Sheridan, taking his wife in his arms.

      2

      All the lights in the room switched on as a computerized voice announced, Coming out of our jump in five-four-three-two-one.

      Time to get dressed, said Sheridan to his sleepy wife.

      From out of nowhere an unexpected thunderous boom shook the ship.

      Sheridan and Tarina leaped out of bed, wrapped in only a bed sheet.

      A second later, another explosion violently rocked their vessel. The lights in their quarters switched to red as an alarm sounded throughout the spaceship.

      That was something hitting the ship’s shields, said Tarina, rushing to pull on her flight suit.

      A comet? asked Sheridan, yanking on his pants.

      The ship shuddered again.

      No, that was a missile strike, said Tarina.

      That doesn’t make any sense. Why would the Kurgans fire on us?

      Michael, I, of all people, should know a missile strike when I feel one.

      Sheridan knew better than to argue with his wife. He did up his shirt and went to use the intercom to find out what was going on when a new alarm sounded. All hands, this is the captain. Abandon ship. I say again, abandon ship.

      Fear gripped Sheridan. What the hell is going on?

      I don’t know, but we’d better do as the captain ordered, replied Tarina, slipping her feet into her boots.

      Sheridan ran to the door and looked outside into the hallway. Panicked crew members and partially dressed passengers ran for the closest escape pods. He took Tarina by the hand and ran down the corridor, searching for an empty pod just as a deafening explosion filled the air. In front and behind them the ship’s emergency airlock doors slammed shut.

      The hull’s been breached, said Tarina, barely masking the fear in her voice.

      Crap, muttered Sheridan as his feet lifted off the deck.

      Tarina started to float in the air. The artificial gravity must be disabled.

      Sheridan grabbed hold of a railing with one hand and his wife with the other. He pulled hard on the metal bar and then let go, sending them flying down the weightless hallway. Up ahead was the last escape pod available to them. With their hands clawing at anything on the walls to move them along, Tarina and Sheridan desperately struggled to reach the life raft before it was too late.

      Tarina slammed her hand on a red activation button on the wall, opening the door to the pod while Sheridan grabbed hold of a railing and swung them toward the open door. Together, they flew into the lifeboat and saw it was empty.

      Buckle yourself in, said Sheridan to his wife. He grabbed hold of the door and looked both ways for survivors before closing it and pushing himself back inside the pod.

      We’re it? asked Tarina.

      Sheridan nodded. Hopefully, the rest got off the ship before the hull ruptured. He took a seat next to Tarina and secured himself to his chair. Built for ten people, the pod seemed huge with only two occupants in it.

      Ready? asked Tarina.

      Do it, said Sheridan, wishing he had his mouth guard with him.

      Tarina looked down and pressed a button on her armrest. A split second later, the escape pod shot from the side of the doomed transport ship and out into space. Through a window on the door, they watched in horror as their ship, struck by a barrage of missiles, vanished in a fiery explosion.

      What the fu—, muttered Sheridan as a massive disc-shaped craft flew through the debris of their ship, blocking the light coming from the Kurgan sun. A couple of seconds later, the automatic guidance system onboard their pod kicked in. Thrusters on the side of the pod altered their trajectory and guided them toward the Kurgan homeworld.

      Sheridan reached over and took Tarina’s hand in his. The warmth in her hand helped calm his racing heart as the pod began to rock from side to side as it plunged through the Kurgan atmosphere. Although it only took minutes, it felt like an eternity to Sheridan as they plummeted toward the ground.

      Warning, the preselected landing site is not clear, reported the pod’s computerized voice.

      Sheridan and his wife exchanged a now what look.

      Computer, show us the ground, ordered Tarina.

      A holographic image of the world below them appeared in the air. Everything seemed to be on fire. The empty field they were supposed to be landing in was covered with smoking ruins.

      My God, the planet is under attack, said Sheridan, looking at the picture.

      It sure looks that way, said Tarina, trying to find them an alternate landing site.

      Warning, there is an incoming missile, said the computer.

      A cold sweat broke on Sheridan’s back. Time to impact?

      Eight seconds.

      Sheridan looked at Tarina. There was no time to react. She closed her eyes and engaged the emergency jettison system. In the blink of an eye, all ten seats in the pod were ejected out into the air.

      The sudden rush of g-forces on Sheridan’s body was like an elephant kicking him square in the chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Tarina just before her seat’s parachute opened, slowing her fall to the ground. Sheridan heard but never saw the destruction of their life raft. The pressure on his body was too much for him; his vision narrowed as he fought to get air into his lungs. Sheridan saw his air mask flopping next to his head and tried to reach for it, but his hands felt like lead. As his chute deployed, jarring his body, Sheridan lost consciousness and faded off into the dark.

      This ain’t right, thought Sheridan as he tried to open his eyes. He struggled to pull his eyelids apart. His right eye slowly opened, but his

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