Synopsis:

The Mekans come, bringing death and destruction. Only the Chosen can save those who call this galaxy home. 

The Chosen battle against an insurmountable enemy. Forced by the Mekans to split up, they fight to save innocent lives on many planets. 

But help has come. 

Will a mysterious stranger provide the answers the Chosen seek? Or will they fail in their quest to save the galaxy from the Mekan Fleet?

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Excerpt:

“This can’t be happening! The sound weapon – it killed them!” Keera covered her mouth with her hands, unable to take her eyes off the Mekans crawling about on the desert floor.

“They obviously weren’t dead,” Saemus mumbled. What do we do now?

Voilor spun to face Feeror and Moylir. “If these are awakening, then the ones on Volgon must have done so as well. We must return.”

“You can’t just leave! Maybe we just need to hit them again. You don’t know the ones on your world aren’t dead. We need you!” Keera cried.

“Do what you need to, child. We are returning home,” Moylir stated firmly.

“Perhaps the Kromins could contact someone from Volgon to find out the truth,” Gerok said. Gerok sent the telepathic message to one of the Kromins, telling them what they had observed and asking the telepaths to contact someone from Volgon to get a report.

A few second later, one of the Kromin clones responded to Gerok.

— We were unable to make contact with any Volgons–

“Are you too far away from the planet?” Gerok asked.

— No. We can contact worlds much further away–

Gerok ground his teeth is frustration. “Then why weren’t you able to reach anyone?”

— Unknown. Perhaps there isn’t anyone to contact–

Gerok met the eyes of his Chosen. Even though they could only hear Gerok’s spoken part of the conversation, they understood the meaning well enough. “We must leave. Now.” Gerok took the lead, shuffling down the mountain as quickly as he could go.

By the time the group made it back down to their camp, they were exhausted. The battle with the Mekans coupled with no food or water was taking its toll. They had no weapons to hunt with so they were forced to forage for what little could be found on the plains. Kaelin managed to find a handful of berries on a scraggly old bush, not even enough for one berry apiece.

“We need to push on. We’ll hit farms once we get closer to Yis,” Saemus said.

He ignored the groans of his comrades and started walking west, toward civilization and the Sea of Solace.

The keen eyes of the Volgons spotted the faint light long before any of the others saw it. Voilor trotted ahead to scout the area. When he returned with news that the farm was close, the others started walking more quickly.

“I bet they have meat!”

“Maybe they’ll have some fresh milk.”

“I wonder if they’ll let us sleep in the barn?”

Seamus held up his hands. “Calm down. We can’t go rushing in there, we’ll scare them half to death. Look at us! Covered in more dirt and filth than we can wash off in a fortnight, clothes half gone. And what do we tell them about our reason for being out here? Just out for a nightly stroll?”

“I think we should tell the truth of what’s coming. Those Nomads in Yis knew more than what they were telling, that much is obvious. They might be telling everyone they meet about the Mekans already,” Jon said.

“Then again, they might not,” Saemus sighed loudly. “However, I am leaning toward telling them the truth. The Mekans won’t stay in the Blasted Lands; they’ll climb the Mishrae Hills and swarm over all of Astra.”

“What good will it do to tell them? They can’t do anything about it. Maybe best to leave them in ignorance,” Robert Marshall suggested.

“We can’t walk by and not say anything. Maybe they can run, to the furthest reaches of Astra. Stay alive a little longer. Besides, we need food and water,” Keera said.

Saemus led the way to the farmhouse. The light from the lamps shone brightly from the windows, warm and inviting. Even with the door and windows closed, the tantalizing aroma of food wafted through the air. Stomachs growled and mouths watered.

“You guys stay here. I’ll go in alone. If we all show up on their front stoop, they’re likely to lock the door and never let us in,” Saemus said as he walked slowly to the house. He fruitlessly tried to wipe the grime from his clothes, wondering if perhaps this was a bad idea after all. He rapped lightly on the door.

“Can I help you?” The thin, stooped man peered around Saemus into the darkness, looking to see if he was alone.

“I’m sorry to bother you so late in the evening, but I…that is…we are in need of some help,” Saemus stammered, blushing to the roots of his jet-black hair. Leave it to me to mess this up!

“Me and the missus, we don’t want no trouble—”

“Oh, we don’t mean you any harm. I know I look like a mess but we have had a run-in with some rather nasty sorts—”

“You keep saying ‘we’ sonny, and yet you’re the only one here.” The man backed away slowly. “You can probably find an herb woman in town.”

Seamus groaned. “I’m not sick. Only tired and hungry. And I’m not alone, actually. My friends and I have just come from the Blasted Lands—”

The man’s eyes opened as wide as they would go. “So you seen what them Nomads have been talking about? Is it true? Are there big monsters coming for us?”

Saemus stood gaping. Of all the things he expected the goodman to say, this wasn’t one of them. “I think it best if we talk inside.”

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About the Author:

Shay West was born in Longmont, CO and earned a doctorate degree in Human Medical Genetics from the University shay westof Colorado Anschutz Medical Campus in Aurora, CO. Dr. West currently lives in Grand Junction, CO with her two cats. When not writing novels, she plays with plushie microbes and teaches biology classes at Colorado Mesa University. She is the author of the Portals of Destiny series and the Adventures of Alexis Davenport series. She has also been published in the military scifi anthology, Battlespace. Her final book in the Portals of Destiny series, Resigned Fate, is forthcoming from Booktrope in 2013. The final book in the Alexis Davenport series, Desperate Reflections, will be released in 2013.

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