Noah's Ark

by Vijaya Schartz

  Noah’s Ark

  Chronicles of Kassouk - Prequel

  By Vijaya Schartz

  Digital ISBNs

  EPUB 978-0-2286-0895-0

  Kindle 978-0-2286-0896-7

  Web 978-0-2286-0897-4

  Print ISBNs

  BWL Print 978-0-2286-0899-8

  B&N Print 978-0-2286-0900-1

  Amazon Print 978-0-2286-0898-1

  2nd Edition Copyright 2019 by Vijaya Schartz

  Cover art by Jenifer Ranieri

  Print back cover by Michelle Lee

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book

  Dedication

  To those who dream of faraway lands, Strong heroines, brave heroes… and cats.

  Chapter One

  3055 C.E. starfreighter Noah’s Ark,

  Somewhere in jump space

  A lone tear warmed Trixie's cheek as her father's face scowled at her from the hologram hovering over the desk of her ready room.

  His last recorded message repeated in a loop. “I will never forgive the shame you brought upon our family...”

  He'd never understood her. He'd imposed upon her a husband of his choosing. He'd shattered her dream of love and turned it into a nightmare... but she'd finally embraced her fierce need for independence. “Sorry, Dad. It's better for everyone this way. I'm out of your reach forever.”

  A jolt shook the ship and Trixie glanced up. The room lights flickered on the titanium desk and the drab bulkhead. She rose, waving the hologram out of existence, and tapped her collar com-badge. “Bridge! What the wraith just happened? Talk to me, people.”

  “Checking on it, Captain.” Tom's baritone voice came over the intraship system.

  They shouldn't have dropped out of jump space for another month, ship time. Trixie wiped her last tear and straightened the belt and hip gun over the freighter-gray jumpsuit. No fancy uniforms and no rank insignia on this trip. Just a motley crew of outlaws and fugitives.

  Exiting the ready room, she marched toward the command bridge through the narrow corridor with brown paint peeling off the bulkhead. The faint trace of ionization in the recycled air and the tight coil in the pit of her stomach confirmed her suspicions. The ship had stalled.

  What the wraith possessed her to volunteer to command this antiquated bucket of bolts on this ludicrous voyage? A starfreighter of all things, renamed Noah’s Ark for this expedition. Ancient indeed! But she knew exactly why she'd volunteered. She wanted to escape the suffocating clutches of her influential and far reaching family. Well, she'd succeeded.

  She raked back her short blond hair and composed herself as the hatch slid open with a huff of compressed air. On the oval bridge, the crew sat at their stations set in a horseshoe pattern. All spoke at the same time, acknowledging working systems, verifying life support. No “Captain on the bridge” announcement, no salutes. This wasn't the perfectly ordered Galactic Fleet of her past, but it was freedom.

  “Well? What happened?” Trixie dropped into her captain's chair at the apex of the horseshoe. The safety straps wrapped and locked around her athletic frame with a click. “Damage report?”

  “No damage, Captain. All systems operational.” At the engineering station, the tall ebony man she knew only as Tom straightened his red beret and shook his head, jostling long dreadlocks encrusted with beads and jewels, like some space pirate. “All functions optimum. Everything's working just fine, Captain.”

  “Wraith! Give me some answers.” It made no sense.

  Tom's black brow furrowed as he stared at his screen and his bejeweled fingers flew over the console. “We slipped out of jump space as if this was our destination all along.”

  “Well? Is it our destination?” Trixie hid her impatience behind a neutral tone. She hated riddles. “How could we have gotten here early?”

  “According to calculations, we traveled...” Tom hesitated. “Farther and faster than expected, Captain.”

  Trixie knew of only one speed in jump space... jump speed. Although she'd heard rumors of wilder rides from drunken space jockeys. “What do you mean faster?”

  “Much faster...” Tom straightened and smoothed the dagger sheathed at his waist, a thing he did when nervous. “Looks like we overshot our target exit.”

  “By how much?” Trixie struggled to wrap her mind around that impossible fact.

  “Not sure, yet.” Tom tapped more keys on his console.

  “Can we backtrack to the correct coordinates?” Seemed to Trixie the logical course.

  “We could... but first, we have to figure out where we are.”

  A large 3D virtual image came to life in the center of the horseshoe, showing a revolving field of stars.

  Trixie had no doubt they would soon pinpoint their location. Then they could plot a new course and resume their voyage. “The onboard computer can triangulate.”

  “Not without a point of reference, Captain.” The whites of Tom's eyes widened. “So far, our databanks fail to recognize any of these stars.”

  “Keep computing.” Trixie stared at the black dotted field and did not recognize any of the star systems either. As a child, she had nightmares about being lost in space. Her heart raced. Her chest heaved in the restraints of the safety straps. “How could we have traveled so far away from charted space?”

  “Captain?” said a short, pudgy man at Navigation, named Kenny. “There is a planet in close range. Looks like an Earth-like planet,” he said with a lisp.

  “Finally, some good news.” Maybe the inhabitants could help them find their way back to known space.... if they proved friendly. “On screen.”

  The central image zoomed in on a white orb with a blue atmosphere. A pink aura, like a fuzzy ring, delineated the blurred line between night and day. The daytime zone showed mountain ranges, peaks, valleys, and vast plains.

  “The planet has two moons,” Kenny explained, wiping a sweaty brow. “It orbits two stars locked in a close embrace.”

  “A binary sun... Why is the surface white? Snow?” Trixie shivered at the thought.

  “Mostly ice, Captain.” Kenny's lisp hung in the air like a condemnation.

  “Temperatures? Atmosphere?” Trixie refused to let the circumstances get her down.

  Kenny brushed his console with pudgy fingers, staring at the scrolling data. “Clean, breathable air. Arctic temperatures, except for two areas of microclimate that seem much warmer than the rest.”

  On the 3D image, two continents separated by vast oceans, seemed linked across each pole by an enormous ice cap. The warmer zones now showed a red outline, one in the northern hemisphere in the daylight area, the other near the equator in the deep shadows of night.

  “Any signs of civilization?” Trixie didn't expect much in that climate, but a few races did thrive in the cold.

  “None visible at this distance, Captain.”

  “Cheng, get us into orbit to take a closer look!” Trixie needed answers.

  “Aye, aye, Captain.” The young Asian pilot straightened as he spoke, all clean-cut and regulation-like.

  Trixie almost smiled at the formal response and wondered whether Cheng once served in the Galactic Fleet. He certainly acted and spoke like a Fleet officer.

  The impulse drives purred as the ship set on its new course. By now, the passengers in the cargo holds would realize they'd dropped out of jump space and their representatives would start asking questions.

  Trixie needed answers before then. Chief Geneticist Ian McLure,
the only one onboard flaunting a last name and a pedigree among this bunch of outcast crew and settlers, would not take kindly to any change affecting his pet project.

  “Communications?” Trixie swiveled her chair left, toward the com specialist console.

  “Si, Captain.” Dolores, a young woman with lovely curves, long dark hair and liquid brown eyes came to attention.

  “Send out a wide range signal to any ship in the vicinity, requesting assistance with star maps. In binary code. I doubt anyone around here understands standard Terran.” Trixie remembered her early dreams of exploration squashed by her father. Would she finally get a chance to make first contact with an unknown race?

  “Approaching orbit, Captain.” Cheng's clipped voice.

  “Shields up.” Trixie always placed safety first. “Scan for signs of civilization, cities, technology.”

  “Only ice, so far, Captain,” Kenny lisped.

  “What about those two warmer spots?” They would be preferred locations for a civilization to develop.

  “No structures in the tropical zone, Captain, only forests.” Kenny's sweaty hands kept brushing the keys. “Wait! I see something in the warmer spot of the northern hemisphere.”

  “On screen.” Finally, some useful information.

  The central 3D viewer zoomed to the planet surface. At the base of a steep mountain range, overlooking a vast plain, spread an extensive complex made of the same dark rock as the mountains. The square angles and geometric layout clearly indicated constructed structures. As large as a city... a fortress, like a citadel encased between thick walls.

  When the viewer zoomed onto to the large complex, the rectangular buildings came into focus. The streets stood empty.

  A deep gorge separated the citadel from the plains. On the plain itself, closest to the citadel, the ground, devoid of trees, looked as if it had been cleared for fields. Farther south, thick forests covered with snow filled the space between straight roads, all leading to the fortified city. Whatever civilization lived there wouldn't be of much help if they still relied on the wheel and thick walls.

  “Life signs?”

  Kenny shook his head. “None larger than a rodent on the entire planet, Captain.”

  “No population at all?” There went Trixie's hopes of making first contact or finding out where they'd popped out of jump space. She turned to Tom. “Still no point of reference?”

  Tom hissed, baring diamond-incrusted teeth. “None of these stars matches anything in our database.”

  She turned to Dolores at the com station. “Any response to our signal?”

  “Nada, Captain. Is awful quiet out here.” Dolores' luscious lips pouted as she shook her head slowly.

  They were truly lost. Trixie sighed as her mind churned with unsavory possibilities. “Then we definitely have a situation. Assemble crew and civilian representatives in Cargo Bay Three immediately.”

  “Si, Captain.”

  * * *

  Kostas slowly rose from the bunk of his private cabin and slipped his survival fatigues jacket over the black-ops tee shirt. First time anyone summoned him to a meeting since Noah’s Ark departed from the Mars Colony, with its contingent of misfits, desperados, outlaws on the run, and Terran refugees.

  No last names, no questions asked, the ad said, just like in the pre-space days of the French Foreign Legion. The only requirement, beside expertise in the field, was to be eager to make a new start on a virgin planet with plenty of fresh air... and that's what Kostas wanted.

  Why the recruiters, who selected him for his survival skills, made him a representative remained a mystery to him. Kostas always preferred actions to words. He'd only accepted the extra responsibility for the lure of private quarters during the long voyage, but he'd do his office justice.

  Force of habit from past missions, he'd studied the ship's schematics, and knew exactly where to find Cargo Bay Three. Leaving his cabin, he opted for the service ladder rather than the stairs or the elevator. He climbed down two decks, then jogged the fifty meters along the dingy brown corridor toward the stern. By the Halls of Montezuma, this long voyage would sabotage his tip-top shape. With all the cargo holds full of equipment, people, and livestock, he had no room to exercise on this decrepit freighter.

  The door to Cargo Bay Three stood wide open. Inside, a few crew members in freighter grays waited for the others to arrive, standing in small groups or sitting on piles of titanium crates. From the quality of the new crates, the equipment they contained must have cost a fortune. The simple settlers, who'd recruited Kostas for protection and survival, couldn't have financed a voyage of this magnitude. Not his business. No questions asked went both ways.

  More representatives arrived. Kostas nodded to those he'd previously met in the galley at chow time. Two dozen or so, men and women, each represented a group of about a hundred souls. They sat on crates in an approximate circle. Kostas chose to sit at the outer fringe of the circle. Casually, he pulled the knife out of his right boot, then he proceeded to groom his fingernails. He preferred to observe from a distance.

  The man who just entered, tall, slender, with long dark hair in a tail, fit the profile of the wealthy sponsor. Clad in a cobalt blue silk suit, he strutted like a rooster, as if he owned the ship. To think of it, he probably did. Maybe Kostas would finally get some details on this mission. Not that it mattered. He'd already achieved his main objective the millisecond the ship crossed the jump gate from Mars. Now he could relax and enjoy whatever the future held.

  The settlers' representatives looked rather bland, except for the mustached leader of the equine tribe. Kostas never forgot a face or a name. This man was Tabor. Tall and lean, dressed in red, long black hair loose over the shoulders, he swaggered in fancy high boots with the bowed gait of a rider. Knives and even a sword hung from his wide leather belt.

  Kostas smiled inwardly. Most warriors had a fondness for blades, even in space. Somehow, from the way the man walked and held himself, he had the feeling Tabor was exceptionally skilled in the art of the sword. But beyond the romantic notion of warring blades, survival on an isolated planet often relied on simple weapons, and biological transportation, like horses.

  A young, athletic woman in freighter gray stepped out from behind a stack of metallic crates. She had short blond hair, pale skin, lush lips, and clear eyes as deep as a glacier lake, even in this shabby light. And oh sweetness, she carried a side-arm, a slick sonic blaster. Fleet issue... not a Space Marine, but a woman after his own heart, nevertheless. She looked like an avenging angel.

  She walked resolutely to the center of the circle of seated representatives, then climbed up to stand on a container. He could sense in her a strong will, and a captivating vulnerability. These freighter grays didn't do her body justice. Strong calves filled the military boots, firm round ass. She definitely worked out. He'd have to ask her where she'd found a gym on this wreck.

  By the Halls of Montezuma, Kostas couldn't afford to let lust rule him. He'd sworn off women altogether. He couldn't afford this kind of mistake again. Not if he wanted to live.

  She looked like top brass issue, so she would be out of reach anyway. That reassured him a little. From the top of her container she smiled, and her angelic smile warmed up the entire bay like a wildfire. Kostas sighed and forced himself to focus on grooming his fingernails.

  “I am the ship's captain, and my name is Trixie,” the angelic woman enunciated in a clear, musical voice, with a hint of clipped accent. Definitely high-class Earth society. But Trixie?

  Probably a nickname. On this one-way voyage, most passengers and crew were running from something and hid their true identity. Still, Trixie sounded fun and full of life. Good thing she was the captain. He'd never see her again after they reached destination. If he remained in his bunk for the duration, he might avert temptation.

  “I have good and bad news.” Trixie made eye contact with many in the audience, like a true leader. “The bad news is, we dropped out of jump space into an
uncharted area of space, and we are still trying to find our way to our original destination planet.”

  A gasp and a murmur rose over the representatives. Kostas kept quiet, waiting for the good news.

  “You mean your ineptitude as a captain got us lost in space?” The rich, gaunt man's disdainful set of the mouth, and his patronizing tone, wouldn't earn him any points with this crowd.

  The lovely captain held up one hand. “Let me finish, Professor McLure. The good news is, we are orbiting an Earth-like planet devoid of intelligent life, and so far, it seems perfectly suitable for our expedition.”

  Trixie pressed a small remote in her hand. The 3D hologram of a white planet revolved above their heads. The representatives whispered among themselves.

  “It's cold,” Trixie went on, “except for these two areas of temperate microclimate outlined in red. These zones offer suitable conditions for human life.”

  “Looks just as cold as the rest. It's white,” a woman's voice among the representatives.

  Trixie smiled “Only because it's still winter in that hemisphere.”

  “You really think just any planet will do?” McLure's voice rose a few decibels. “This is a very delicate experiment. It took me a decade of preparation. How dare you ruin it by getting us lost in uncharted space!”

  “I assure you, Professor McLure, there was no mistake on the crew's part. We are still in the process of determining what caused this incident, but preliminary observations indicate that we traveled at ten times jump space speed and overshot our target.”

  “Impossible! There is only one jump speed.” McLure's superior tone had the power to frazzle nerves.

  Even a trained soldier's nerves... Kostas shook his head and refocused on his fingernails.

  “So we thought.” The captain's voice remained even and neutral. “But obviously our notion of one jump speed needs to be revisited, as clearly demonstrated by our present predicament.”