by Tim Moon
First Draw
Drezkarn Book One
Tim Moon
Copyright © 2019 Tim Moon
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, products, and events are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead (or undead), is purely coincidental and not intended by the author. Furthermore, the inclusion of fantasy creatures and zombies renders any resemblance to reality invalid.
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Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Thank You
Also by Tim Moon
About the Author
To my mom and my loving wife.
You two are amazing.
Prologue
September 8, 2143
Luna Prime
The sight of Earth on the moon’s horizon mesmerized Galactic Defense Corps Lieutenant Luke Rivers. The view reminded him of the old photos from the pioneering astronauts during the first moon landing nearly two centuries before. It felt surreal looking at his home from this angle, as if he were examining an ant farm.
He lingered at the portlight to marvel at his home planet, a twinge of longing pulling at his heart. North America wasn’t visible which made Luke wonder what his mom might be doing back in Seattle, Washington. Depending on the time, she would either be sitting in bed with a mug of tea reading a good book or fast asleep. Guilt plucked his heart strings, but he quickly boxed that emotion and set it aside. Accepting the opportunity that had brought him to Luna Prime had been her idea. She had insisted, loudly and repeatedly.
His mother’s words echoed in his mind, “You have a chance for a brighter future. You have to take it.”
Luke turned away from the portlight and resumed his walk towards the medical wing for his appointment. Neurologists and psychologists would finish preparing him for the decade long journey aboard Galactic Defense Corps Ship (GDCS) Ranger on its way to Sierra-7, a distant exo-planet. Theirs would be the second wave of defense and colonization ships to make the trip, following one year behind the first wave.
Luke knew his mom had been right about accepting the volunteer assignment, but as a son, it had been difficult to let go, to leave his only family, his home and everything he knew for the vast unknown of space. As a soldier, it felt like running from the fight with the Crithzari, and that bothered him. Luke knew that’s not how it was. The GDC were not retreating. In fact, they were expanding, rebuilding, and eventually preparing for a massive counter-offensive. Shaking his head slowly at the uncharacteristic swirl of emotions, Luke sighed as his footsteps clicked softly in the empty corridor.
Luke had been among the last group on the final testing schedule. He hoped everything went well. If they had items to follow-up on, there may not be time to address them before departure. Then again from what he heard this was simply the final step in fine-tuning an in-depth personality profile that would aid with his transition into hibernation. Maybe they had already worked out the kinks and there was nothing to mess up?
“What’s got you down, sad puppy?” a familiar voice asked behind him.
“What?” Luke asked as he climbed out of his thoughts and focused on his friend.
“You look like someone pissed in your apple juice,” Lieutenant Marshall said, bumping Luke’s arm with his elbow. His eyes twinkled with humor. “Look sharp, lieutenant. We’re living the dream, man.”
“Yeah,” Luke said, his spirits rising with Marshall’s enthusiasm.
Lieutenant Marshall had always been the carefree, enthusiastic guy in their group since they met in Officer Candidate School, Class 042, 4th Platoon Outlaws - HOOAH! The memory lightened his mood. Marshall was a good three years younger, twice that many inches shorter, and fresh out of university whereas Luke had already served eight years in the military. After reaching the rank of sergeant first class, Luke earned a commission, something he never considered or pursued. One could say he was ordered to accept his commission since the age-old tradition of battlefield promotions were no longer accepted by the GDC. It also made him one of the few lieutenants with combat experience.
“What are you doing wandering these lonely corridors anyway?”
“I’m going in for my brain scan,” Luke said, tapping the side of his head.
“Yours will go quick, there’s not much to scan.”
Luke punched his shoulder.
“Mine was yesterday,” Marshall said, rubbing his shoulder. “It’s no biggie. Just a bunch of stupid tests and tedious questions.”
“Tests that influence the next decade of our life.” Luke scoffed. “That doesn’t sound stupid to me.”
“Eh, whatever.”
“Do you take anything serious?” Luke asked with a laugh.
“I thought you knew me.” Marshall smirked. “Speaking of, what are you going to spend the next decade playing?”
During the Ranger’s spaceflight, they would be in a state of physical hibernation while their brain was kept active. Long before Luke was born, the GDC launched an initiative after the first super long-range space flights proved to have detrimental effects on brain function when only hibernation was used.
According to the rumor mill, some corporate lackey who had previously been in the gaming industry had the idea of merging the hibernation process with virtual reality gaming or “simulations” as the GDC called them, in order to keep the mind active and prevent mental degeneration. Subsequent testing proved the genius of the idea and demonstrated that it was more than merely a profit scheme. GDC soldiers showed a marked improvement in post-hibernation mental function and emotional balance with only a one-percent chance of lasting mental deficiency. It helped revolutionize long-range space flight.
“That’s easy,” Luke said. “You know I’m into the fantasy stuff.”
“So, it’s Drezkarn for you, eh?”
“You know it.” Luke nodded. It almost seemed too good to be true that his job would include gaming—swinging swords, casting spells, and fighting dragons—something his rough childhood had rarely afforded him.
Marshall shook his head.
“Those elf girls though, right?” Luke said and they both chuckled. “What did you pick?”
“I’m gonna play True Life,” he said. “I can’t do the whole fantasy thing.”
Luke scrunched his nose. “
Try something new. Why would you just want to live a normal modern life?”
“Normal. Modern. Life.” Marshall punctuated each word by stabbing his right index finger into his left palm. “No Necrose outbreaks. No Crithzari invading and fucking things up. No fucking government rations. No field training exercises. Just normal living, man. I could just bum out on a beach somewhere and surf with hot girls all around. Or I could become a business mogul, drive fancy cars and have babes hanging all over me. Who knows, maybe I’ll start a chain of high-end strip clubs?” The last part he said wistfully.
“All about the women, huh?” Luke chuckled. “That certainly sounds like fantasy.”
“Whatever man. It’s a chance to live like they did in the old days. A little slice of normal before everything went to shit.”
Not that either of them really knew what that “normal” was. Their perception of life pre-apocalypse came from books, music and movies. Still, Luke’s head cocked to the side as he considered the surprising wisdom of his friend’s statement. He couldn’t fault Marshall for wanting that kind of life, even if it was only temporary.
“Anyway, meet me at the officer’s lounge when you’re done with the docs,” Marshall said, his mood growing enthusiastic again. “Let’s knock back a few drinks before we’re forced to go dry.”
“Now that I can agree to,” Luke said before holding up a finger as if remembering something. “Just be sure to get a booth, those stools are awful.”
Marshall’s cheeks flushed and his shoulders tightened.
The look on his friend’s face made Luke burst out laughing.
“Oh god, you should have seen your face when you were laying on the floor. The total shock and confusion,” Luke said, slapping his friend on the back as he laughed harder. Tears sprung to the corners of his eyes and he clutched his stomach. “Especially when you started to flail your arms like a turtle on its back.”
Marshall gave him a little shove. “I told you, man, someone bumped my stool and knocked it out from under me.”
“Good story,” Luke said, placing a sympathetic hand on his friend’s shoulder. “But we all saw you wobbling like a bobble head doll.”
Marshall scowled. “Fuck you.”
“Save it for True Life, bud.”
“Wha-”
“I was up by three shots, right? Seven to your four if I’m not mistaken.” Luke taunted with a raised eyebrow. “So, I’m what? Two for two, right?”
Marshall started to retort.
“Well, this is me, lightweight,” Luke said, raising his voice as he gestured at the automatic door that slid open. “Save me a seat tonight. In a booth… and invite some ladies. I don’t want it to be another Lieutenant Marshall sausage fest.”
Luke quickly ducked into the office. The door eased close behind him to the muttered curses of his buddy.
Music to my ears, Luke thought with a grin.
Two days later, LT Luke Rivers led his platoon down a brightly lit, windowless tunnel that connected Luna Prime to the docking transport station. Two guards stood at the far end next to the elevator hatch that would take the up to the dockyard and the ship.
The atmosphere thrummed with an underlying current of excitement.
Luke halted his platoon in front of the guards and handed the man an orange security card with his platoon’s deck and frame number, and authorization code embedded inside on a chip. The guard pressed it against a card reader mounted on the wall. When the indicator light turned green, the elevator doors slid open.
“Enjoy your flight, sir,” the guard said, handing the orange card back.
“Thank you, sergeant.”
As they stepped through the door, each squad entered in single file. Facial recognition and biometric scanners ensured that no unauthorized personnel slipped in with their unit. When they reached the dockyard entrance, they stopped at another guard station where the security officers scanned his card and pointed them in the right direction. They stepped aboard a moving walkway that whisked them down the dock at a respectable pace. An eye-opening fifteen minutes later, the platoon dismounted the walkway that brought them to the proper slip, a tangible reminder of just how massive Ranger and the other ships were.
Pride swelled in Luke’s chest as he boarded Ranger. It was one of only four Ruby-class super battlecarriers, named after Mace Ruby, a hero of the Second Civil War. The ship represented humanity’s greatest and most staggering example of military power and technological prowess. It housed thousands of fighter and reconnaissance drones, two manned fighter wings, a bomber wing, and a full division of combat troops, which Luke and his platoon were a part of, plus support personnel. All in addition to the ships own crew. By the end of the day, the number of people aboard the ship would swell to well over fifty-thousand souls.
A member of the ship’s crew guided Lt. River’s platoon to their quarters, a large rectangular room featuring three dozen capsule shaped berthing units that the acronym loving military called HIVR-STEP, or hyper-immersive virtual reality - space travel enhanced pod. The pods had domed covers made of fused silica glass to allowing for medical observation and safely encase the occupant in the event of a hull breach. Each pod featured a datapad for the medical staff to monitor vitals, along with a small heads-up display for the occupant to review their own vital health and relevant ship data or warnings during sleeping or waking transition periods.
Overthinking the HIVR-STEP made Luke involuntarily reach for his stomach as a knot formed. For most of the next decade, as Ranger sped towards Sierra-7, his body was going to be hooked up to this thing. This small, enclosed thing.
GDC scientists claimed the aging process would slow and they would only perceive a year or two of aging at most, if they noticed any outward change at all. That was hard for Luke to wrap his mind around. If that were true, he would arrive at Sierra-7 as a true 36-year-old, yet only physically aged to 27 or 28. Meanwhile everyone he had known on Earth would almost certainly have died of old age, if the war didn’t end them prematurely. Relativity was a bitch.
Luke took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He gripped the edge of the HIVR-STEP and shook his head. How was this more difficult to do than charging into battle against the Crithzari invaders? Letting out a sigh, he admitted he knew the answer. Crithzari were an external, physical enemy that he could destroy, while this was his own mind racing away from him, controlling his emotions. He couldn’t destroy his own mind.
Gritting his teeth against the urge to yell and clenching his fist against the urge to break something, Luke reminded himself that the pods were necessary and safe. The suffocating devices would keep their minds active during the long trip while pod integration with their special flight suits and the ship’s artificial gravity would reduce physical deterioration. None of the pods had failed thus far, and the GDC made sure they had all seen videos of soldiers undergoing treatment after being disabled by travel without a HIVR-STEP. Luke would not wish that on his worst enemy.
Not wanting to dwell on the thought of being inside the pod, Luke turned his attention to his soldiers. He found a spot out of the way to observe the non-commissioned officers carrying out their duties, double-checking flight suits, and ensuring that everyone and everything was accounted for and ready for the sleep transition.
Lieutenant Marshall walked past with his platoon. Luke gave him a nod, not wanting to interrupt his formation. Marshall flashed that famous grin of his and continued to his unit’s berth, which was the next door down the hall.
“We’re good to go, sir,” one of his NCOs said.
Luke nodded in approval. “Very good.”
His soldiers stood beside their pods, chatting softly when the medical and neurological team arrived to assist them with their integration and transition.
One of the sergeants called attention since the doctor outranked Luke and the female captain quickly said, “As you were.”
Her bright green eyes met Luke’s for only a second before settling on her datapad.
She was perhaps the most beautiful officer Luke had ever seen. Her olive skin contrasted with emerald eyes and rich, brown hair that was pulled back into a tight, regulation approved bun. Despite the hairstyle and her lab coat, he couldn’t help but note her enticing figure. She was the last women he would see until they arrived on Sierra-7, in roughly ten years.
Not a bad send off, he thought.
The captain cleared her throat, causing Luke’s gaze to snap back to hers. She cocked an eyebrow at him, waiting for a response.
He cleared his throat with a slight shake of his head. “Yes, ma’am. Everyone accounted for and prepped for transition.”
“Excellent. Press the green button on your pod to open the hatch. Then go ahead and lay inside,” the doctor said loudly to the entire room. “We’ll be around to each of you as soon as we can. In ten minutes or so, you will all be sleeping pretty ready for departure.”
“Saddle up, 4th platoon,” Luke said over the muttering and nervous shuffling of feet. His platoon sergeant turned to Luke and began to double-check his flight suit, a standard operating procedure carried over from airborne training. Like added, “We’ve all trained for this, and compared to fighting Crithzari, this is nothing. Enjoy your time and I’ll see you in a few years.”
