Chronicle of the Liberator.
A fish out of water...
Thomas Richard Jackson, a mundane man, with mundane aspirations, living a mundane existence, until an alien snatches him from a bad situation, transporting the human to his ship.
Thomas discovers that he is no mere guest. The alien has big plans for him, plans that include transforming Thomas from a wimp to a hard-nosed killer. Why? Because the alien intends to send the human to assassinate the leader of a powerful interstellar empire.
Since Thomas has never harmed a fly, the idea of him being an assassin troubles him greatly. But to refuse, is to condemn Earth to a vicious conquest, its inhabitants to enslavement. What choice does Thomas have? Earth's fate rests on his shoulders. But first he must survive the alien's intense (to say the least) training. Because it won't matter if Thomas survives the mission... so long as he is successful! This fish out of water will have to grow some teeth, and fast!
Warriors of the Four Worlds
The Vingin are a peaceful species, who are genetically incapable of violence. Humans and Zirans are their protectors. While Humans have shown a frightening appetite for violence, they have never reveled in it the way that their alien counterparts have. For Zirans are a brutal species with a lust for war. Human and Ziran muscle managed to defeat a horde of genocidal aggressors. But the aftermath of this struggle bears no promise of lasting peace. Storm clouds of treachery are brewing, and the shaky bonds that held this tripartite alliance together are unraveling. The tempest of a new war is erupting. Lev Gorlin, a hard-bitten veteran of the last war, must once again stand firm in the face of a new threat...
The Consortium ship drew nearer, its missiles and energy batteries subjecting the Horseman to a merciless barrage.
The hammering force of the enemy's assault reverberated through every section of the ship, fissuring decks and bulkheads. Explosive power surges erupted from bridge consoles, multiple shockwaves sweeping Mingana off her feet, sending her head first to the deck.
She blacked out. When…Continue
Three hours crawled by.
Mingana had gone straight to the bridge after the weapons room seizure. She ignored her marines' insistence that she stop at sickbay to get her arm treated. She had the medics meet her on the bridge instead.
Stripped down to a sleeveless black undershirt, with burn-treatment gauze covering her tricep wound, Captain Mingana stood beside her chair, eyes glued to an interface.…Continue
“You're Resistance?” Povich asked when he and Mingana stepped into the captain's office.
“For how long?”
“Years. But, this is my first operation.” The captain perched on the corner of her desk, arms folded. “And I intend for it to be successful.”
Povich cocked his head. “What is this operation?”…Continue
The orbiting city filled every interface on the bridge. Less than an hour from target range, the mood on the bridge was electric. Mingana stood in front of her chair, fixated on the central interface while Duke Rassellin transmitted the city's coordinates to those of his people in Weapons room 3 in charge of operating the Consortium weapon. Helm paced the bridge's lower section, rubbing his hands in anticipation. Povich walked from station to station ensuring that everything…Continue
“We're 26 hours 43 seconds to target range,” Commander Povich reported from the data on his pad. “22 hours until our rendezvous with the Consortium ships that will be joining us.”
Captain Mingana nodded and looked at Duke Rassellin who requested...or demanded rather...that information.
The Consortium representative raised his feline head, but kept his eyes on Mingana. “Good. In five hours my technicians will begin the activation sequence that will power up the weapon. The weapon…