Morgan Chane was an Earthman by parentage, but he had been born on the pirate-world Varna, whose heavy gravity had developed strength and incredibly quick reflexes in him. When he was old enough, he joined the raider-ships that looted the starworlds, and fought side by side with the dreaded Starwolves of Varna. But then there was a fight among them. Chane killed their leader, and the other Starwolves turned on him. He barely got away alive—wounded near death, his Starwolf pursuers following him across the galaxy. And there was nowhere he could seek refuge, for no world would lift a hand to save one of the hated Starwolves.

When Morgan Chane and his comrades of John Dilullo's interstellar mercenaries invaded the Close World of Arkuu in search of a lost Terran expedition, they found a planet of strange menace. Incredibly powerful monsters prowled though Arkuu's dense jungles, and the ghosts of the planet's past haunted its ancient deserted cities. The Arkuuns themselves fought grimly to drive the Terrans away. But at last Chane discovered the Free-Faring, the terrible alien secret of Arkuu . . . and suddenly he knew why no Terran had left the Closed Worlds alive.

Morgan Chane was an Earthman by parentage, but he had been born on the pirate-world Varna, whose heavy gravity had developed strength and incredibly quick reflexes in him. When he was old enough, he joined the raider-ships that looted the starworlds, and fought side by side with the dreaded Starwolves of Varna. But then there was a fight among them. Chane killed their leader, and the other Starwolves turned on him. He barely got away alive—wounded near death, his Starwolf pursuers following him across the galaxy. And there was nowhere he could seek refuge, for no world would lift a hand to save one of the hated Starwolves.

From mighty Canopus, capital of the Federated Stars, to the outer fringes of our great galaxy, the Interstellar Patrol was on the watch. Rogue suns, marauding alien intelligences, man-made comets driven by their makers for the conquest of unsuspecting worlds, diabolical conspiracies hatched in the depths of unmapped nebulas—it was the business of the Patrol's mighty spaceships to guard against such cosmic dangers.

CRASHING SUNS is the epic account of this future space legion, where volunteers from a thousand worlds man the mighty starcraft of a hundred thousand years to come. It's interplanetary adventure on the classic scale, by the master hand of Edmond Hamilton.

"Spaceships in thousands, and they're attacking us! They've come from somewhere toward our galaxy—have come out of intergalactic space itself to attack our universe!"

The interstellar Patrol, that fabulous fleet manned by all the assorted races of our galaxy, faced its greatest struggle when that alarm came through. For this was an attack from OUTSIDE THE UNIVERSE, a vast migration from another galaxy, and it had to be stopped if a thousand worlds were to survive!

This terrific classic space novel on the grandest scale involves three giant galaxies in an all-out conflict.

FOLLOWED IN SPACE!

The Starsong was beginning to pass between the two huge red binaries into the thicker sprawl of stars through which the channel led. The channel was not straight, and you could not take it too fast—in that swarm of suns the fabric of a ship could be torn apart in some deadly gravity drag or vaporized in collision. The only thing was that the Orionids were still following them.

But Birrel said nothing. This was Garstang's job and he let him do it. The enormous pairs of red suns flashed past them on either side and were gone, and they were in the channel. Under his feet he could feel the Starsong quiver, wincing and flinching like a live thing. On either side the overhanging cliffs of stars seemed to topple toward them. He looked upward at the nebula, like a glowing thundercloud roofing the channel, and then down at the shoaling suns below.

Garstang said flatly, "We didn't get away quite fast enough. They'll be barrelling in here after us and they'll have us in range before we ever get through the channel."

"As far as I can see," said Birrel, "we've only got one way out of it."

He looked up at the screens again, at the vast glow of the nebula overhead.

Garstang was silent for a moment. Then he said, "I hoped you wouldn't think of that."