When Ships Mutiny

by Doug Farren

  When Ships Mutiny

  By: Doug Farren

  Copyright 2012

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  When Ships Mutiny

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Cover art design:Erik Zak

  Published by:Doug Farren

  Author Photo by:John Gilbey

  Printed by:CreateSpace

  Cover art Copyright © 2012 by Doug Farren

  Contents

  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

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Chapter 1

  The planet Maelstrom was named for its nearly constant winds and violent thunderstorms. Despite the weather, the planet was quite habitable and boasted a population of 430,000 colonists. Located at the edge of explored space, 376 light years from Earth, Maelstrom was the youngest colony planet. The first colonists had arrived four years earlier and the settlement was quickly growing.

  The screen in front of Carlos suddenly sprang to life. Setting his pad down, he stared at it for a moment as if trying to comprehend why it had automatically activated.

  “Hey Flynn – are there any ships scheduled to arrive today?”

  The other person in the cramped control tower looked up from the movie that was playing on his monitor. The control tower sat at the edge of an expanse of concrete that served as the city's combined air and space terminal. Being a colony world, traffic was usually very light and the crews manning the tower usually spent their time watching movies, reading, or playing cards.

  “A ship?” Flynn asked, perplexed. “We’re not expecting anyone. The Hancock left less than a week ago. Maybe they had to turn around. Why?”

  Tapping the screen, Carlos replied, “Well someone just dropped out of hyper just inside the orbit of Scarface.”

  Scarface was the name the colonists had given to their sixth planet. It was a rocky world nearly twice the size of Earth with many active volcanoes scattered across the surface. The vast lava flows from the volcanoes looked very much like a heavily scarred, human face.

  Annoyed, Flynn paused his movie and rolled his chair over to the other station. “That's an odd place to drop out,” he remarked after reviewing the data. “The Hancock wouldn’t be coming in from that direction either. They're not transmitting an ID either. Do you suppose the sensor on the satellite is going bad?”

  “It looks like valid data to me,” Carlos said. He typed a command into the keyboard and watched as a message flashed across the bottom of the screen. “Diagnostics say it's in working order.”

  “Well, let's see who it is,” Flynn rolled his chair back to where it had started. He flipped a switch and said, “Maelstrom control to incoming vessel, please identify.”

  Flynn waited a full minute then repeated the request. When there was still no reply he looked over at Carlos. “She's still there,” Carlos answered the unspoken question. “Moving into the system at 12 kps. Strange though, they're not heading here.”

  “Oh?” Flynn scooted back over to the long-range display. “Where're they going?”

  “Well, if they stay on their current course they'll scoot through the outer edge of the system then head back out. Maybe they're in trouble?”

  Flynn scrunched his face in thought then took his phone out of his pocket. “Maybe, but that's not our decision to make. I'm calling the boss.”

  Samantha arrived in less than ten minutes. As starport administrator, her government-supplied living quarters was located near the base of the control tower. After reviewing the data, she put in a call to the duty rescue crew.

  Twenty minutes later, one of the colony's three spaceships lifted off. As soon as it was far enough away from Maelstrom's gravity well, the ship transited to hyperdrive.

  “What the hell?” Carlos said, sticking his face closer to the screen.

  Samantha echoed the explicative. She stared at the screen which now showed the unknown ship leaving the system at FTL speed. A few seconds later, it passed beyond the satellite's range and vanished.

  Turning to Flynn, Samantha said, “Tell Captain Dixon to head back immediately then establish a secure call to Earth. I'll take it in my office.”

  Carlos grabbed Samantha's arm as she started to leave. “What's going on Sam?”

  Samantha looked down at Carlos. “I don't want to say anything until I talk to Earth,” she said, before walking away and closing the door to her office behind her.

  Humans had been exploring space with faster-than-light ships for 162 years without finding any evidence for the existence of other intelligent life. The human race was now firmly entrenched on 42 planets along with innumerable outposts and mining operations spread across over 800 light-years of space.

  Central space command on Earth kept track of the location of every ship. This was done to facilitate a rescue if a ship failed to arrive at its intended destination. The registry was checked and all ships were accounted for. The only possible explanation was that Maelstrom had been visited by an alien vessel.

  Earth responded by sending a small fleet of scouts to scour the area. Every star system within 15 light years was searched. No sign of an alien presence could be found. The matter made headline news on every occupied planet but after a few months the story wound down and was soon forgotten by the masses.

  Seven years later, Maelstrom once again became headline news.

  * * * * *

  “Sam!” Julie’s excited voice rang out as the long-range sensor screen came to life. “You’d better come look at this.”

  Samantha abandoned her chess game and walked over to Julie’s station. Twenty-seven ships had just entered the system and were on a direct approach to Maelstrom. “Oh my God! How long before they get here?”

  Julie consulted another screen and reported, “About four hours if they maintain a standard approach. Who are they?”

  Sam ignored the question and rushed over to the communications console. Flipping a switch she said, “Maelstrom space control to incoming vessels, please identify and state your purpose.”

  She nervously tapped her fingers on the desk as she waited. The others stood nearby in silence. Neither of them had ever seen their supervisor in such a mood. After 30 seconds she repeated the message then typed a quick series of commands into the console.

  Turning to her chess partner, she said, “Randy, get the Governor on the phone – now. I don’t care if he’s banging the old lady, I want him on the phone and standing by. Better yet, tell him to get his ass over here as fast as possible.”

  A face appeared on the communications console. �
��Maelstrom, this is Ensign Keen of Earth Central. Go ahead with your priority message.”

  Sam sat down and licked her suddenly dry lips. “This is Samantha King, 27 ships have entered the system and are on a direct course to Maelstrom. They have refused to identify themselves.”

  “Twenty-seven?” the man seemed perplexed. “Are you sure your detectors are working properly?”

  “Listen you ass!” Samantha blasted back. “Seven years ago an alien ship scouted this system. Now they’re back. You don’t send 27 ships to make contact with another race. That’s an invasion fleet heading our way. Now what are you going to do about it?”

  The ensign’s face turned red but he held his anger in check. “Stand-by Maelstrom.” Ensign Keen’s face vanished from the screen and was replaced with the words “ON HOLD”.

  Sam turned to Randy and said, “Is the Governor on the phone?”

  Randy held his phone out and said, “He’s pretty pissed but he’s on the way here.”

  Samantha grabbed the phone and put it to her ear. “Governor, this is Samantha King. The aliens are back and this time they’ve brought a whole fleet with them. I recommend evacuating the city until we know what their intentions are.”

  The Governor was a reasonable man not prone to jumping to conclusions. He preferred to make decisions based on known facts and sound judgment.

  “How many ships?” he asked, his voice firm and free of emotion.

  “Twenty-seven. They’re headed straight for us.”

  During the short pause, another face appeared on the communications screen. The man’s uniform indicated he held the rank of Admiral. He opened his mouth but closed it again when he saw Samantha was on the phone.

  “I will issue the order,” the Governor replied. “I’ll be there in about ten minutes. Keep trying to contact them.”

  “Thank you Governor,” Samantha replied. Turning to the screen, she said, “Admiral Spolinski. I take it you’ve been briefed?”

  The Admiral nodded. “I have. Ensign Keen was unaware of your previous visit. What’s your status?”

  “Twenty-seven ships inbound. ETA less than four hours. Governor Schmidt has ordered a general evacuation and is on his way here.”

  “Have they responded to your communications attempts?”

  “No sir.”

  The Admiral leaned forward. “You realize that if they’re hostile we have no way of responding. War is a thing of the past and nobody wanted to fund the construction of a fleet of warships that might never be used.”

  “I know that Admiral. Frankly, I’m surprised we still have a military.”

  “Old habits die hard. They still call it the military but the only thing I’m in charge of is a fleet of scouts and rescue ships. I’m ordering every vessel in the area to your system. The first should be there in about two weeks. That’s the best I can do. Good luck.”

  “Thanks Admiral. I’ll keep this line open just in case.”

  The incoming ships never responded to Maelstrom’s repeated attempts at communication. The computerized contact program that had been developed to try to establish a language translation with any possible aliens was also ignored.

  The satellites were the first to be destroyed. The aliens then turned their attention to the planet’s surface. Kinetic energy weapons rained down on the major populations centers. They impacted with the force of small nuclear warheads but left none of the radioactive residue.

  After the cities and towns were pulverized, a swarm of attack fighters entered the atmosphere. They cruised over the surface using lasers and conventional bombs to attack the scattered population. The aliens did not seem to care that the inhabitants of Maelstrom offered no resistance to their invasion. They simply slaughtered every human they encountered.

  The colony’s main hypercom transceiver was destroyed when the spaceport was bombed, interrupting the signal to Earth. An enterprising colonist, driven to document mankind’s first encounter with an alien culture, set up a wireless camera looking down one of the deserted streets in the small town of Swirl where one of the shuttles had been hidden inside a large warehouse. Although the shuttle’s hypercom did not have the power to reach Earth, it could easily reach Granitus, the nearest colony. From there, the signal was retransmitted.

  Back on Earth, the video feed was being watched by everyone from the World President on down. At first, only the quiet, still town was visible. Leaves blew through the empty streets propelled by the planet’s never-ending winds. Six aliens appeared from around the corner of a building. All of them were armed with a long-barreled weapon.

  There was a muted gasp among the viewers in the Presidential auditorium. President Wong Shi Yuan stared with unbelieving eyes at the screen. “They’re beautiful,” she remarked.

  The aliens were taller than an average human and were dressed in what appeared to be light battle armor. Two of them had removed their head-gear allowing the distant observers a clear view of their heads. The alien faces had distinct feline characteristics – more like those of a common house cat than their larger cousins. They did not appear to have whiskers, but they did have cat-like pointed ears set high on their round heads. They were, as the President had indicated, beautiful to look at.

  The group of invaders moved cautiously down the middle of the street, their heads constantly moving as they kept a careful watch for signs of resistance. A large, black dog suddenly appeared from a side alley.

  The aliens instantly stopped and raised their weapons but a command from their leader caused them to hold their fire. The dog trotted to within a few meters of the group then stopped and sniffed the air. It lowered its head, the hair on its neck stood up, and a deep growl could be heard as it bared its teeth.

  The leader of the group raised his weapon and took aim. Having been on hunting trips with its owner, this dog was quite familiar with weapons. Sensing danger, it turned and ran back down the alley.

  The alien leader lowered his weapon and said something to the rest of the group. They responded with a hissing sound that must have been their equivalent of laughter. The silence was suddenly split by the unmistakable crack of a high-powered rifle. One of the aliens staggered backwards grabbing his neck and collapsed to the ground. The others ran for cover disappearing from the camera’s view.

  Several more shots rang out, the alien weapons sounding louder and more high-pitched than those of the humans. For nearly a minute the only thing that could be heard was the sound of the wind rushing past the microphone and the leaves swirling in the street. The aliens reappeared. All of them now had their helmets in place.

  While the rest kept watch, one of them bent down and examined his fallen comrade. After a moment, he stood up and the group continued their search of the town passing out of the camera’s field of view. The dead alien lay in the street. About fifteen minutes later, the video feed went dead.

  “Well,” the President's first word shattered the silent tension in the air. “What do we do now?”

  Chapter 2

  Fernando stood outside the unmarked door trying to remember why he was there. He could clearly recall being ordered to be here, but he could not remember how he had arrived or even who gave him the order. He knew he had volunteered to become a pilot of one of the latest battleships. He remembered the long, difficult classes and training sessions he had endured over the past six months. After that, his mind was a blank.

  Confused, Fernando looked to his right then to his left. The stark, white hallway was absolutely silent and no other doors were evident. Not knowing what else to do, he reached for the handle.

  Fernando slowly opened the door just enough to allow him to stick his head through the opening. His eyes scanned the room for several seconds before focusing on the man sitting patiently behind the desk. A smile graced his middle-aged face as he waited. His brown hair was cut very short. He wore a blue, short-sleeve shirt opened just enough at the collar to expose a few graying chest hairs. His hands lay palm down on the top of the desk
which was empty save for a flat-screen computer display to his left. The bare walls of the windowless room were painted robin’s egg blue. The door opened fully and Fernando tentatively entered.

  The room was small and sparsely furnished with a single, grey, metal desk angled in the corner. A light-brown armchair was positioned in front of it. “Come on in and close the door,” the man behind the desk said.

  As if in a daze, Fernando obediently reached behind him and gently pushed the door closed. He was 23 years old with pitch black, wavy hair and was dressed in blue jeans and a jean shirt. He remained standing for a moment, his eyes darting from the man, to the desk, to the walls, then back to the man in rapid succession.

  “I was told to come here,” he finally said in a shaky voice, “But, I don’t … Where am I?”

  “Ah!” the man behind the desk exclaimed, showing his teeth as his smile broadened. Nodding his head, he continued, “Slight memory loss, quite common and nothing to worry about. It will quickly start coming back to you. For now, let me assure you that you’re in the right place. My name is Bill Rogers, one of the doctors assigned to monitor your progress. Please, have a seat and we'll get started.”

  Fernando, his head and eyes never remaining fixed, walked over to the chair and sat down.

  Bill looked at the monitor and said, “Fernando Miguel Munoz, 23, born in Guadalajara, Mexico, Earth. Top of your crypto-analysis class I see. Looks like you did pretty good in all your other classes as well. Both of your parents are still alive, living in Guadalajara. Your sister is a successful accountant living on the planet Eldridge in the city of Dakur.”

  Bill touched the screen, paused for a moment, then continued. “Your medical scans are looking good. How do you feel?”

  Fernando looked at his hands, turning them over and inspecting them as if seeing them for the first time. “I feel good.” He reached between his knees and squeezed the microfiber chair cushion. “This is very convincing,” he replied.