Trooper Down

by Jim Laughter

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Epilogue

  Books of the Galactic Axia

  Trooper Down

  Book 6 of the

  Galactic Axia Adventure Series

  * * *

  Jim Laughter

  Denton, Texas

  Dedication

  Since this book includes a wedding, I dedicate it to the love of my life, Wilma Laughter. It was September 19, 1971 that she agreed to become my wife. We’ve had our good times and our bad times; our lean times and our prosperous times. Although some years were hard, we’ve never been separated, unemployed, or on welfare. We raised three wonderful sons who each have marvelous wives, and we’ve got a houseful of grandchildren. Life couldn’t be better. Love you, babe.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Axia Books

  An imprint of AWOC.COM Publishing, LLC

  P.O. Box 2819

  Denton, TX 76202

  © 2016 by Jim Laughter

  All Rights Reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. All characters and concepts of Galactic Axia are the property of the author and may not be used in any other work by any other author without written permission by AWOC.COM Publishing, LLC and Jim Laughter.

  ISBN: 978-1-62016-152-4 - Ebook

  Chapter One

  “What’s on the docket today?” the mothership commander asked his aide as he scanned the briefing agenda on the desk in front of him.

  “Mostly routine, sir. But there is something interesting near the bottom.”

  The commander perked up at this last piece of news. They’d been in this distant sector doing survey work for over eleven months. It was a rare occasion when anything interesting came across his desk. Tempers were beginning to run a little short with nothing more than stray asteroids every now and then to stir his imagination.

  “It’s about time.”

  The commander read the report of one of the scouts finding a habitable planet, a report that was already a week old.

  “Why am I just now seeing this?”

  “It’s complicated, sir.”

  “Complicated?”

  “It has a preindustrial human civilization. Naturally, the planet is closed. We can’t make direct contact with them.”

  “How’d they manage to find it, anyway? It’s on the very edge of the sector.”

  “Quite by accident, I’m afraid,” the aide said. “One of our scouts had a navigational system problem, strayed off course, and passed through the system. It wasn’t even scheduled for detailed exploration for another twenty years.”

  “It must have taken our lost scout over a week to traverse the distance. I hope that idiot first officer of mine put the fool on report.”

  The aide didn’t answer. What the commander didn’t know was that the scout had returned to the mothership at the very end of his life support and fuel. He’d spent almost a week in the infirmary recovering from dehydration and exhaustion. His original scout run had been scheduled for only two weeks, but his navigation system had failed and turned him ten days off course. It took almost another two weeks to return to the mothership after recovering his course. He hadn’t been able to use his faster-than-light drive due to running low on fuel.

  “I just wish we had a squadron of those new survey scouts,” the commander said with a sigh. “It would make this whole procedure a lot easier if our ships could sustain faster-than-light speeds for extended periods.”

  “Well sir, if it makes you feel any better, one is due out here next week.”

  The aide took the agenda out of the commander’s hands and turned to the third page. He pointed to the pertinent section.

  “It’s about time.”

  The commander removed the brief from his aide’s hand and scanned the page. The aide prepared himself for the coming outburst. He hadn’t given his commander all of the news.

  “It says they’re only sending us one ship!”

  He turned to the next page to see if there was a continuation. Surely Command couldn’t be serious about assigning only one Fast Attack Recon ship to cover an entire sector. Didn’t they know how long he and his ship had been patrolling this corner of space; a sector so devoid of habitable planets they’d not found enough life to fill a space cruiser? Their replacement mothership was schedule to arrive in only a little over a week. He didn’t envy the next commander that would be stuck with this detail.

  “One ship isn’t going to do any good,” he complained. “I need at least half a dozen to even make a dent in the systems we’ve yet to explore.”

  “I know,” the aide agreed. “But the report says this captain is rather good at this sort of thing. He already has fourteen new planets and three civilizations to his credit.”

  “Hmmmm.”

  The commander thumbed through the report on the new ship and its captain.

  “Says here this Trooper-Third Eagleman was decorated by the Empress herself while still in basic training.”

  “He must be pretty good.”

  “Whatever,” grumbled the commander, closing the file folder. “Sure is a funny name for a ship. Who ever heard of calling a ship Cabbage Patch?”

  “Not me,” the aide said noncommittally. “Anyway, he’s due to arrive sometime next week.”

  “Since he’s so good, we can send him to check out this new planet. I don’t want any of my regular pilots tied down with this thing.”

  “You just don’t want anything to delay our scheduled departure,” the aide commented knowingly.

  “You better believe it.”

  This was the first aide he’d ever had with the nerve to tell him off from time to time. He liked that in an assistant. Not too much, but he liked it.

  “We’ll send this hotshot captain and his fancy new ship to that new planet, then we’re out of here! Let the replacement mothership commander worry about him.”

  “If you’re finished venting, it’s time for the morning briefing,” the aide said as he removed the commander’s dress jacket from a small closet.

  The commander growled, pushing back from his desk. Before his aide had more than opened his mouth again he continued. “And don’t worry. I’ll be good. Now let’s go get this over with before someone dies of boredom.”

  ∞∞∞

  Trooper-Third Delmar Eagleman, captain of the Fast Attack Recon scout Cabbage Patch, smiled as the planet loomed large in his front viewscreen. It had been two months since his last visit to Theta and he looked forward to even one day off.

  Exploring new planets and systems did have its challenges, but there was just something special about visiting old friends. The invitation from Stan Shane and Leatha Mordon was a welcome relief so he’d rea
rranged his routing schedule to accommodate it. He knew they were on Theta planning their wedding.

  He hadn’t seen Leatha since she’d been assigned to temporary duty at the W0unded Warrior camp on the planet Sharpton and he’d been involved in rescuing her from a Red-tail incursion. She’d suffered a mental breakdown after memories of her past overtook her, forcing her to face horrors hidden beneath a façade of bravery. The simple rehabilitation assignment had turned into a fight for her life when a contingent of Red-tails set up a base camp in the nature reserve where she’d been assigned as a survivalist guide.

  At the thought of Stan and Leatha, a flood of memories rushed back to him. It had been nearly two years ago when Stan and Leatha had met during a family crisis. She and Delmar had just graduated from Survey School and were on leave on Erdinata, Delmar’s home planet, at the time of Sherry Sender’s terrible traffic accident. Leatha had kindly transported Mom and Pop Hassel to Mica while Delmar went looking for Stan under direction of their friend, Ert, the Horicon computer. Fortunately, Sherry survived, and Leatha and Stan took an almost immediate interest in each other.

  “Wish my love life went that easy,” Delmar said aloud to himself. He parked the Cabbage Patch in the holding pattern and sat back to wait for landing clearance.

  His interest in Thena of Allander City had proven short lived. While on Mica because of Sherry’s accident, he’d found time to actually visit his pen pal. Almost from the start, that visit and the ones that follow proved disastrous. Thena was nice enough, but Delmar discovered she had a deeply hidden dislike and fear of space travel.

  Thena had other ideas for their relationship, including trying to persuade Delmar to quit the service. She wanted him to settle down on Mica, raise a family, and work with her father in his import-export business. Why send stuff all over the galaxy when you can go there yourself, Delmar reasoned?

  So, he’d decided to remain just good friends with Thena and dedicate his time and efforts to his one true love, the Cabbage Patch. He continued to write to her for a while in hopes that she might change her mind but he wasn’t about to give up his ship. And now that he’d been promoted to Trooper-Third, there was no reason for him not to have a dependent onboard. Any possible future for a relationship had ended right there.

  Since that time, Delmar busied himself in his work. Exploring new systems and planets was very exciting to the young man. His record attested to his knack for this sort of work, ending the days when he felt insecure and inept. In fact, his reputation tended to precede him, and more often than not, he was being sent into riskier situations. That suited him just fine. It kept his life from becoming routine.

  “Cabbage Patch, Approach Control,” a voice sounded over the comm. Delmar dispelled his musings and activated his throat mic.

  “Go ahead, Control.”

  “Your landing slot is 23J7. Vector 33-421.”

  “Thank you, Control,” Delmar said.

  A click told him the controller had already switched to another ship.

  Delmar adjusted his controls to align the Cabbage Patch with his approach window. After verifying the vector, he advanced the throttle and his sleek ship angled downward. As the atmosphere streamed past his forward windows, Delmar’s thoughts were again on his upcoming visit with Stan and Leatha.

  ∞∞∞

  “He’s coming in now,” Leatha said when she spotted Delmar’s ship incoming from the west.

  Stan followed her gaze. “How can you be sure it’s his ship?”

  “Because there are only a limited number of FAR ships. There are rarely two of them on any one planet at the same time.”

  In a flash of reflected light from the sun, the Cabbage Patch appeared overhead, descending on a slanting trajectory. Stan and Leatha watched as their friend brought the Patch to a flawless landing on his designated landing pad.

  “He’s always had a light touch on landing,” Leatha remarked. “Now, let’s get out there.”

  “All right, all right,” Stan said with feint boredom. He was just as excited to see his old friend as Leatha but he wasn’t about to let it show. He nonchalantly engaged the engine on the ground car and drove slowly toward the landing pad.

  When they arrived, Delmar had just activated the hatch. The couple watched as he stepped down onto the tarmac. Waving at them, Delmar circled around to the back of his ship to inspect a coupling on the drive antenna array. Leatha and Stan bailed out of the ground vehicle and joined their friend in the inspection.

  “What’s the problem?” Leatha asked.

  Due to her own experience as a captain, she understood Delmar’s concern for the condition of his ship.

  “Nothing that can’t be fixed,” Delmar said. “It just didn’t feel right when I brought her in.”

  “Well, this might be something,” Stan offered, his hand resting on a single rod. “This rod feels loose.”

  Leatha and Delmar inspected the rod. Delmar pulled a tool out of his utility belt and tightened it. After a quick check of the other rods, he was satisfied.

  “You always did like to tinker,” Stan said, clasping hands with his friend. “I’d even bet you could land a good job fixing ground vehicles when you get tired of gallivanting around the galaxy.”

  “I assure you, that day will never come,” Delmar answered, pulling Stan closer for a brotherly hug.

  “He just wants to take care of his baby,” Leatha offered. She pushed herself in between the two men and gave Delmar a hug.

  “Moving in on my woman, huh?” Stan quipped, aiming a playful punch at Delmar’s shoulder. “I wish she paid as much attention to me as she does to her ship.”

  “Will I ever get a word in edgewise?” Delmar asked as the three headed back to the ground car. “You two sound like you’re already married!”

  “We will be if we can ever get the crazy thing planned!” Stan said with a chuckle. The three slid into the front seat of the ground car with Leatha in the middle.

  “So, how’s it going?” Delmar asked.

  Stan started the engine and engaged the drive. “I’d rather fight Red-tails,” he said and drove them toward the spacefield gate.

  “It isn’t that bad!” Leatha exclaimed. “You just don’t understand.”

  “I understand that a lot of professional busybodies are trying to do it according to their own notions without consulting us.”

  “That last wedding coordinator was the worst,” Leatha agreed.

  “Can you believe she wanted whisk us away in a blimp?” Stan said to Delmar with a laugh.

  “Hot air or helium?” Delmar asked with a straight face.

  “Who, the woman or the dirigible?” Leatha asked

  “Now, that’s not nice,” Stan admonished. “Driving young couples crazy is probably all the fun she ever has.”

  “We’ll find somebody to plan this thing,” Leatha said

  “Why not plan it yourselves?”

  “What,” Leatha replied, “and have all that hassle?”

  “You’ve got to be kidding, boyo,” Stan agreed.

  “Okay. If you don’t like that, why not ask Sherry or Mom Hassel to help?” Delmar offered. “If both, can you imagine the fun they’d have?”

  “We’ve considered it, but there’s the problem of time and distance,” Stan answered. “If the wedding were taking place on Mica or Erdinata, it would be different. Then we’d hand it over to them in a minute.”

  “I think you should contact them and see if one of them could come for a while?”

  “What about a place for them to stay?”

  “I’m sure something could be arranged,” Leatha said, warming to the idea. “There’s always guest housing on base for retired service personnel.”

  “Are you sure either of them would even come?” Stan asked.

  “If I know them, the problem will be keeping them both from invading and taking over the planet,” Delmar answered with a laugh.

  “Let me think about it,” Leatha said, suddenly quiet. Stan and
Delmar wisely shut up for a minute.

  Delmar knew some of Leatha’s background, and it wasn’t pretty. Being orphaned and taken captive by Red-tails as a child had left an indelible mark on the young woman’s character. Later at the minimum age, she had entered the service during one of the difficult times as the Red-tails pressed hard against Axia defenses. During that time, Leatha had seen many friends slain and had nearly lost her own life during the attacks.

  Again a survivor, Leatha entered Flight School where she and Delmar met. Quietly intense, the young captain blazed her own trail while uncertainty gnawed from within. Upon meeting her, Sherry and Agnes had both sensed the loneliness in the young woman and adopted her into their extended family. The unusual assignment where she had been ordered to serve at a camp for wounded warriors had resulted in some resolution, producing the competent, aggressive battle veteran seen today.

  The three friends rode in silence for several long moments while Stan drove them through and around the moderate traffic.

  “Is it me, or is Theta starting to get a rush hour?” Delmar asked.

  “You’ve just been in space too long,” Stan quipped. “No traffic lanes or stop signs.”

  Leatha smiled.

  “Take it easy on him. The last planet he was on had just invented the wheel.”

  “They weren’t that primitive!” Delmar exclaimed. “They were up to horses and chariots. There were even gladiator events. It was really quite exciting.”

  “And toga parties?” Leatha asked knowingly.

  Delmar smiled.

  “It was a long mission. A man’s got to relax, doesn’t he?”

  Just then Stan drove them into the parking lot of a restaurant.

  “Hey! What are we doing here?” Delmar asked as Stan parked the ground car.

  “What do you think?” Leatha said. “As I remember, you’re always hungry anyway. So we thought we’d take care of that first.”

  Stan flipped the door release button and pushed the door open, then looked back at his friend.

  “You’re already tried and convicted,” he said. “Come along peacefully and nobody gets hurt.”