by Dave Bara
VOID
SHIP
DAVE BARA
Copyright © 2018 StarSpin Press
All rights reserved.
ISBN:
ISBN-13: 9781976865183
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
AUTHOR’S INTRODUCTION
1. Skimming The Void
2. IN THE VOID
3.
4. ABOARD THE KALI
5.
6. Back to Minara
7. to skondar
8.
9.
10.
11.
12. At Tarchus
13. at vadela
14. Through the void
15. A return to tarchus
16.
17. To the unknown
18.
19.
20.
21. at the emitter station
22. inside the station
23.
24.
25.
epilogue
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
AUTHOR’S INTRODUCTION
This book is literally the stuff of dreams.
I went to bed one night in 2010, the Friday before Memorial Day weekend. As I tried to drift off to sleep but being unable to, I looked up at the ceiling and asked the Universe for a new book idea. That night I had a dream that contained all the essential story elements of this novel.
The next day I feverishly wrote down every detail and idea from my dream, combined it with some character outlines I had saved for another book project, and then began writing. Six weeks later, I finished the book, as fast as I had ever written anything novel-length before by a considerable distance.
The book as it is here is very much unchanged from what I wrote back then. It stands on its own, and I love it. I hope you will too.
DB/January 2018
1. Skimming The Void
The Terran Unity cruiser Phaeton cut through the icy rim of the Minara star system, skimming the edges of Void Space as she sought sanctuary from her pursuers. At her present course and speed escape was probable as long as her sub-light chemical thrusters held on long enough for her to re-fire her internal EmDrive and jump back into a safe interstellar skip bubble.
Phaeton had dropped out of her bubble at Minara to harvest additional Helium-3 from the Minara star’s corona for use in her environment systems, food and water synthesizers, and of course replenish her chemical thruster drives. The fact that pirates from a supposedly dead race had been lying in wait for her at Minara was immaterial. The chase was on, and for now at least, Phaeton had the advantage.
Captain Lara Aybar looked down at her tactical display and frowned. “Mr. Kish, why are they still gaining on us?” she called through her com. Her Chief Engineer answered in broken, but still interpretable, Standard.
“Because our thrusters are down to sixty percent efficiency, Captain,” Kish said. “A result of those Gataan corvettes catching us with our pants down, sir. The thrusters are the first thing they shot at.”
“Yes, with plasma grenades!” snapped the Captain. “Technology more than a hundred years out of date I might add!”
“Captain Aybar, you know as well as I do that we had the shields down to expedite the He-3 scooping process. There hasn’t been a Gataan raid in this system in more than three years. The last Unity patrol certified this system as clear five weeks before we left.”
“I’m not interested in your excuses, Mr. Kish. Security may be your secondary responsibility, but it’s still yours. You should have scanned the system before we disengaged the shields,” Aybar said.
“But Captain-“
“No more excuses, Mr. Kish! We don’t have time.” She glanced up at the tactical display again. The Gataan corvettes were closing for another firing pass. She looked up to the EmDrive countdown clock. Four minutes and forty-seven seconds before the engine generators could spool up the EmDrive and pull the Phaeton back into a safe interstellar skip bubble again. “If you can’t get me five more minutes at full burn out of those thrusters, Kish, I’ll have to fire you.”
“I’ll do what I can, Captain,” said Kish.
“I trust you will. Go to it.” The captain turned her attention to the cruiser’s pilot, Mischa Cain. “Lieutenant Cain, on my order prepare to cut the thrusters and turn the ship to face those corvettes.”
Cain turned from her station. “But Captain, you just ordered-“
“I know what I just ordered, Lieutenant. There’s simply not enough time. They’ll catch us again and they’ll hit us and then our thrusters will be gone and maybe our EmDrive too. If that happens they’ll take the ship and we’ll be prisoners. I don’t know about you Mischa, but I don’t fancy being sold as a sex slave on Skondar or Cundaloa, do you?”
“No ma’am!” Lieutenant Cain quickly turned back to her station. “Orders, Captain?”
“Just keep flying her like we’re trying to outrun them, Lieutenant, and stay as close to the Void as we dare go. I want our change of tactics to be a complete surprise.”
Cain turned back from her board again. “You’re trying to buy time for the Senator,” she said to Aybar. “The skiff?”
Aybar nodded as she kept her eyes locked on her tactical display. “It’s their only chance,” she said grimly.
DEEP INSIDE Phaeton’s underbelly, Tam Renwick of the planet Ceta, member of the Terran Unity Senate and Designated Negotiator of the Treaty of Pentauri with The Raelen Empire, sat in his security couch feeling helpless. Next to him, the Raelen Ambassador to Earth and the Unity government, Makera of Raellos, sat in equal frustration.
“I want to fight,” she said, anger growing in her voice with each grenade volley that shook the Phaeton.
“I understand,” said Renwick back to her. He freed an arm from the protective field enveloping him and brushed the long black hair from his face. It was a face that both human and Raelen females had found irresistibly handsome over the years, one Raelen female in particular.
“You’re remarkably calm,” she said to him.
“It’s just part of my charm.”
“Umm,” she grunted the response.
The ship shook again from the impact of Gataan grenades.
“They’re not in range to hit us yet,” said Makera, “or they would have done so by now.”
“Likely we have a few more minutes of this,” agreed Renwick. “I suspect the captain will have us back in an EmDrive bubble by then, and well out of range of their crude weapons.” Makera smiled.
“They were effective enough in the corona,” she said.
“True,” admitted Renwick, then he directed his attention to the junior negotiators in their diplomatic party, both human, and seated in a row behind the two diplomats. “Myra, Poul, how are you holding up back there?”
“We’re well enough, sir,” said Myra in her tiny voice, replying to Renwick. She was a small girl and her stature both in personality and persona matched her size. Myra Kilbourne was Renwick’s assistant, a twenty-three year old just out of diplomatic school on her first mission. Makera had her suspicions that Myra wasn’t entirely chosen for her qualifications, which were slim. This was a six month trip in close quarters on board a small ship, and although she had no proof, Makera suspected Myra was selected as Renwick’s sexual liaison. This seemed like a waste to the Raelen Ambassador, given her own attraction to humans in general and Renwick in particular. Privately, Makera wondered if the girl knew anything about sex at all.
Poul Rand was Makera’s human attaché, and had been for two years while she was concluding the treaty negotiations on Earth. He was gangly and too thin for her tastes, and far too low on the cultural scale for Makera to consider as a sexual companion, regardless. No, it was Renwick for her, or
nothing. And so far, for two years, Renwick had resisted all of her advances. And for a Raelen woman, two years was a very long time.
“A shame this should happen,” chimed in Rand. “In the old days, before the Void, this crossing would have taken a week. Now it’s six months skimming the edges of Void Space the whole way.”
“We should count ourselves lucky that there’s still a channel open between our two empires,” said Makera. “This treaty will be of benefit to us both, if we survive long enough to sign it.”
“The Terran Unity is not an empire,” corrected Renwick. “We have a representative Parliament and a Senate, unlike our predecessor, as you well know Ambassador.”
“So you say,” replied Makera. “In my opinion the Terran Unity is no different from your last empire.” Before Renwick could argue the point Phaeton was rocked again, testing the protective fields keeping the four intrepid passengers secure.
“By that last blast I’d say we have less than two minutes before the Gataan raiders are in range,” said Makera quietly to Renwick.
“And still at least three before Captain Aybar can re-fire the EmDrive,” Renwick whispered back. Makera nodded, almost imperceptibly.
“The Treaty documents?” she whispered to him. He patted the utility vest tucked inside his suit coat.
“Secure, for now,” he replied. Then he raised his voice to the others. “Everyone just hold on tight. I’m sure Captain Aybar will be firing the EmDrive any second,” he said, not believing a word of it.
ON THE BRIDGE CAPTAIN Aybar gave her tac board one last, grim look, then made her decision.
“Mischa, prepare to cut the thrusters on my mark. We’ll use the remaining momentum to turn the ship as quickly as possible. We’ll have to use the forward coil cannon as soon as we have a lock. If they get off their grenades first, at this range-“
“Understood Captain,” said Mischa. “You’ll get your shot, I promise.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” said Aybar. She palmed the com link on her console to patch her in to the passengers in the security module.
“Senator Renwick, Ambassador Makera, can you hear me?” she asked.
“Clearly,” replied Renwick for them both. Each of the dignitaries had a special implant that allowed them to receive the Captain’s communiqués in complete privacy, for security reasons.
“In about thirty seconds I’m going to cut the Phaeton’s thrusters, then turn the ship and use my only remaining weapons on those Gataan pirates,” said Aybar. “After that you’ll have about thirty seconds before they have time to respond and knock out my EmDrive generators completely. During that time you’ll have to get to the cockpit of the skiff and activate the flight controls, then blast out of here. I’ll try to provide you with enough cover to make a run for it.”
There was a second of silence before Renwick responded over the line, choosing his words carefully so as not to alarm the others within hearing range. “I wasn’t aware there was an escape boat aboard,” he said.
“Actually, you’re in it,” said the captain. “See that wall in front of you? Those panels?”
“Ye-yes,” said Renwick hesitantly.
“They’ll peel back, revealing the cockpit, once I activate it. Like I said, you’ll have about thirty seconds to fire up the skiff and clear the Phaeton before the next Gataan volley hits. Do you think one of you can fly the skiff?” she said.
“I can,” replied Renwick.
“Good, then it’s settled. I'll launch a telemetry probe with your location and direction as soon as you’re clear. It may take you three months to get back to a base, but with luck there’ll be another ship along well before then.” She waited for a reply as the seconds passed. Finally Renwick chimed in again.
“Captain, what about the Phaeton?” he said.
“The security of this vessel is secondary to your mission, Senator,” Aybar replied. “This treaty is vital to the continued existence of both the Unity and the Empire. We’ll take our chances with the Gataan. My guess is the odds are even we’ll end up stuck in this system with our pursuers, both of our interstellar drives knocked out. That will give you an opportunity to escape. I’m sure we’ll be picked up by another Unity vessel inside a month. We have plenty of supplies, and there’s only a crew of twenty aboard.”
“But Captain,” said Renwick, hesitating. “Where will we go?” he asked. Now Aybar hesitated as the seconds ticked by.
“You have a local jump drive. You’ll be able to jump to nearby systems and continue your journey, star by star. It will be tedious, but once we’re picked up we’ll find you and get you on to Raellos in time for the signing,” Aybar said, trying to sound optimistic.
“And if you don’t get picked up by Unity ships?” asked Renwick. The line crackled empty for a few passing seconds.
“Fifteen seconds from my mark,” Captain Aybar said. “Mark!”
Then she cut the com line.
“I’LL GRAB THE PILOT’S controls, but you’ll have to fire the thrusters,” said Renwick to Makera. “We have to get away as fast as we can, and we may only have one chance.”
“Understood,” said Makera. Renwick checked his timepiece.
Ten seconds.
“Do you think you can find the thruster controls while I fly?”
“I do have basic military training,” Makera replied, as if that were an answer.
Five.
“Good,” he said. Then he tensed, bracing himself for the separation and the temporary loss of inertial dampers while the skiff cleared Phaeton’s defensive field and its own internal EV controls fired up. Renwick mulled warning the others, then decided it would probably make no material difference.
One.
The room shook violently as they were thrust away from Phaeton’s protective energy fields by the skiff’s escape rockets. Emergency lights illuminated the room a deep blue as the security panels slid away to reveal the pilot’s nest. Poul and Myra let out gasps of fear and surprise as Renwick unbuckled himself from his security couch and started moving towards the cockpit. Alarm claxons blared loudly through the skiff.
“Stay in your couches!” he yelled over his shoulder to the junior diplomats as he made for the pilot’s seat as fast as he could go. The skiff’s emergency lights went out then and standard lighting came back on against the blackness of the room, revealing that Ambassador Makera was already in the co-pilot’s seat when Renwick arrived.
“You’re fast,” he said as he buckled himself in. It was part statement and part compliment. Makera smiled as she searched for the thruster controls.
“You are as well, for a human,” she said. Renwick ignored her and took the pilot’s controls with both hands.
“Maximum fuel load please,” he said.
“Hydrazine is going hot,” she said, using military parlance. Makera watched as the fuel gauges filled, going from red to amber to green. “Fully loaded and ready to fire,” she finally called out.
Renwick adjusted the controls, setting a course away from the Phaeton and the Gataan corvettes. A course, he noted, that would take them dangerously close to the Void.
“Hold on!” yelled Renwick to his tiny crew over the din of the emergency claxons. Then he punched the contact button and fired the thrusters, propelling the tiny boat away from the Phaeton and into the blackness of the Minara system.
CAPTAIN AYBAR WATCHED as the Gataan pirates closed on the Phaeton. There were sure to be at least twelve Gataan warriors aboard each of the corvettes, and she only had a crew of twenty aboard her cruiser, not including her four passengers that were now gone in the skiff. She didn’t relish the thought of hand to hand combat with the warrior-pirates, but it beat the alternative of surrender and the slave camps.
“Stand by Mischa,” she said to her pilot. “You’ll have to be quicker than you’ve ever been.”
“Understood Captain,” said Cain without turning, one hand poised over the coil cannon firing controls while the other gripped the flight controls.
>
“Five seconds!” called the Captain, her ship shuddering again from an ever-closer grenade blast. “Three... two... one... now Mischa! Cut the impellers and turn the ship!”
The Phaeton groaned under the stresses of the turn, her inertial dampers strained by the disengagement of her screens as the thrusters cut out. Aybar watched helplessly as Mischa turned the ship, her tactical display showing that the closest pursuing corvette had overshot Phaeton as expected, but the trailing ship...
Captain Aybar was thrown free of her security couch by the direct impact of the plasma grenades. She stumbled back to her station and slammed down on the com link.
“Kish! Report!” she demanded. A few harrowing seconds passed in silence, then:
“Thrusters are gone sir, and the EmDrive is inoperable. I might be able to repair her in a few hours-“
“We don’t have hours, Kish!” Aybar shouted.
“We’ve got another problem, sir. The hull is breached, down in Propulsion. The air has vented...”
“What Kish? Tell me!”
“We lost all seven down there, sir,” said Kish, resigned. Aybar cut the line to her engineer and then looked down to the fallen figure of her pilot and instantly rushed to her side, getting Mischa back into her security couch. She was unconscious and bleeding from her head. Mischa was a small girl, and Aybar couldn’t imagine what hell life would be for her as a Gataan plaything. She checked the controls. The coil cannon was locked and loaded but hadn’t been fired. The trailing Gataan ship had anticipated her move, and been prepared with the plasma grenades. She’d been outsmarted, but she wasn’t beaten yet.
Aybar slammed down the com again, angry. “Kish, gather all your crew and get to the armory. Bring everything you can carry and get down here, now!”
“Aye, Captain,” said Kish, then cut the line from his end. Aybar moved Mischa to the Captain’s couch and then slid into the Navigation and Control station. All she needed was one shot from the forward coil cannon, but would the Gataan give it to her?
