Titan Encounter
Page 1
Titan Encounter
By Kyle Pratt
Titan Encounter
Copyright © 2012 Kyle Pratt
All Rights Reserved
Version 2.1 – January 2013
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, especially those on other planets, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.
Many authors say that their spouse is their biggest fan. My wife Lorraine most certainly is mine. This book would not exist without her constant encouragement and editing.
I would also like to thank my friends and fellow writers, Joyce Scott, Robert Hansen, Barbara Blakey and Carolyn Bickel. You have all taught me so much about the craft of writing.
About the Author
I didn't set out to be a writer. That wasn't my plan, but life has a way of not going as planned.
When I ran out of money for college I joined the United States Navy as a Cryptologic Technician. I thought I would do four years and then go back to college.
My first assignment was with a U.S. Navy unit at the Royal Air Force base in Edzell, Scotland. While on leave in Israel I met Lorraine, a young lady from Plymouth, Devon, England. We were married the next year.
As a crypto tech I watched the growth and evolution of computers, the Internet and the Worldwide Web. Originally, I planned and studied for a civilian career in technology, but instead I made the navy a career.
Even before retiring from the navy, I was writing political commentary and short stories. While I maintain an active interest in technology, politics and science fiction, my livelihood now comes from teaching and writing.
Today, Lorraine and I live on a small farm in Western Washington State. My goal is a fulltime career as a writer and blogger. Titan Encounter is my first book and I am already working on a second, as yet unnamed, novel.
You can easily find and follow me on the Internet.
On the web: http://www.kyleonkindle.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/kyleonkindle
Twitter: @kyleonkindle
Google+: http://gplus.to/kylepratt
Also by the Author
Final Duty – The Alien War Anthology Twenty years after the death of her father during the Battle of Altair, Lieutenant Amy Palmer returns to the system as an officer aboard the reconnaissance ship Mirage. Almost immediately disaster strikes and Amy, along with the crew of the Mirage, must face the possibility of performing their final duties. Final Duty is a military science fiction anthology that includes a novella and two short stories set in the same genre and universe.
Titan Encounter Justin starts one morning as a respected business man and ends the day a fugitive wanted by every power in the known universe. Fleeing with his ‘sister’ Mara and Naomi, a mysterious woman from Earth Empire, their only hope of refuge is with the Titans, genetically enhanced soldiers who rebelled, and murdered millions in the Titanomachy War.
If you like what you read
I am an independent writer and so I don’t have an advertising budget. If you have read one of my books and found it entertaining, please tell your friends. Also, books that have reviews sell more than those that do not so, if you liked the story, please consider writing a review on Amazon. If you don’t like the story tell me why.
Chapter 1
Justin awoke from the nightmare of flashing red lights, whooshing air and voiceless screams only to realize it was not some dark fantasy of his subconscious, it was one of his earliest childhood memories. Every year the calendar forced the images from the black depths of his mind. Slowly he sat up and slid his feet from the edge of the bed to the cold metal floor. His head pounded from too much drink, but his mind would not release the memory.
His mother had shaken him awake on that horrid morning long ago. Even at such a young age, the fear on her face was obvious. Red lights flashed in the compartment. She yanked him from his bed as an explosion rocked the ship. They were under attack. The ship shuddered and with each impact, he cried.
Someone placed him and Mara, in an escape pod and told them to stay. Moments later, he heard a hissing sound and his ears popped. He was only five, but he knew what to do. With all his might, he pushed the hatch shut. Seconds later, his mother appeared in the portal. She banged on the glass and yelled. Together with little Mara, they fought to open the door, pushing the lever and pulling the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Tears flowed. The memory of his mother’s lifeless face sliding down the portal still haunted him. She was dead because of him.
Sometimes he dreamed that his father was a wealthy merchant from Earth Empire or, if he was a Dreg, that he was a great pirate or smuggler. In either case, Justin imagined that somehow his father would find him and bring him home. It was all just a dream. Mother was dead and Father never came. He stood and his head throbbed in retribution. Stumbling to a portal, he looked at the arid planet far below. The past is gone. As he thought the words he meant them but, moments later, his broad shoulders sagged with the memory of the mother he had failed.
He rubbed his aching head then stumbled down the hall. Before he reached Mara’s room he knew his sister was gone. Peeking around the half open door, the undisturbed bed confirmed what he already knew. These last few years, when she had the freedom to leave, she had always left him alone on this day. In earlier years, she had tried to console him, but it was a fruitless, wasted effort and she seemed to know it. Clutching his slate in his right hand, he ran fingers across the screen to check his schedule for the day and with a sigh turned to face it.
* * *
Justin watched a vessel inch toward the docking bay one level below, then paused and jotted notes on his slate.
A woman in coveralls approached. Tentatively she asked, “Are you okay?”
He nodded.
“One of the guys said you wanted to talk to me.”
Still facing the observation window, he rubbed his pounding head. “Yeah. Mara, could you have someone find these parts and…” He held out the slate, then rubbed his chin with his other hand. “Baxter’s aft thermal radiator got shot up on his last run. He’ll need a new one.” Justin thought for a moment. “Does he pay regularly?” He glanced in her direction.
She nodded.
“Get someone to pull the newest radiator we have from the back so he can see it when he arrives.
“Sure thing.”
He turned and for the first time really looked at her stained face and greasy overalls. “What have you been up to?”
“Oh.” She grinned under the grime and looked at her clothes and hands. “I helped the night crew install the new decoupler unit in Galt’s yacht.”
“We hire people to do that, sis.”
She pulled a knife from a pocket and began to clean her nails. “Yeah I know.”
They discussed the progress of ship repairs in the main bays then Justin asked, “How is the inventory coming?”
“Ah… It’s progressing.” She wiped her face with a rag, succeeding only in smearing the oil.
Justin wasn’t quite sure if he was more annoyed or amused. “We’ll discuss it later over dinner.” Justin turned and ambled toward his office. “Thanks, Mara.”
“Who’s cooking?” she called after him.
He smiled, but otherwise ignored her comment. Heading back toward the office, he detected movement off to his right. “What do you need Ferren?”
A man of big proportions waddled into view. His face was covered with a scraggily beard and a bulbous nose. He grinned. “I have something for y
ou.”
“You have something for me?” Justin threw his arms to his heart in mock surprise. “Perhaps you have the 20,000 credits you owe me?”
“No…”
“I didn’t think so,” he said flatly and walked past him.
Ferren followed with effort. His fat torso made him sway when he moved quickly and it was hard for him to talk. With effort, he caught up, then reached out and touched Justin’s arm. “But…I salvaged…a ship…”
Not wanting Ferren to have a heart attack, at least not right then, Justin slowed his pace. “We’re all business people here Ferren. You’re a pirate, not a salvager.”
“Okay. We detected a coasting ship, blew a few holes in their hull, and removed the cargo.”
Justin smiled. “That’s nice. Sell the cargo and pay me.”
“When I got back from the run there was word of a man on Bristol paying well for smuggled cargo leaving Earth Empire.”
“Yes, I’ve heard,” he said with a growing smile. “So,” Justin placed a hand on the pirate’s shoulder, “Go to Bristol, sell the cargo, come back and pay me.”
“I need fuel cells.”
The smile disappeared. “No.”
“But remember, I have something for you.”
Justin stared at Ferren.
“There was a girl on the ship.”
“I don’t buy or sell slaves. You know that.”
“You can free her.”
Justin looked at Ferren with a skeptical eye. “Why would I take her in partial payment and then set her free?”
“Maybe you could ransom her?”
“You ransom her and pay me.” He turned and walked away.
Huffing and puffing, Ferren chased after him. “I’ll make you a very special offer. I’ll give you the girl and after selling the cargo I’ll pay the 20,000 credits I owe. You keep the girl. Just give me the fuel cells.” Every inch of Ferren’s face pleaded his case.
“I’m not a slaver.”
“After I pay you, free her. You’ll have the money and feel good—and maybe you’ll be feeling good before I pay you.” Ferren thumped Justin’s chest.
“I don’t like little girls.” Justin turned and walked away.
In pursuit Ferren said, “She’s not a little girl,” Ferren said shaking his head, “she’s a woman.” Once again he was grinning. “Young, but not too young. About Mara’s age, I would guess.” His grin grew, showing yellow teeth. “Pretty, like Mara, too.”
Justin shuddered at the thought of any woman in the hands of Ferren and his crew. “Leave my sister out of this.” Justin stopped, sighed and stared at floor. “Where is this woman from?”
Ferren shrugged. “How would I know?” He stroked his beard. “She’s not a Dreg, she has a strange accent.
Justin rubbed his still aching head.
“The ship was coasting at high velocity and was cloaked. I think it was a smuggler.”
Justin’s eyes widened. “If it was a smuggler, it was probably someone you knew.”
A broad grin spread across Ferren’s face. “Raiding is what pirates do.”
“Sounds like trouble to me.”
Ferren waved his hand dismissively, “Smugglers don’t complain when they get caught and besides I have friends in high places.”
You have scum for friends.
“If you don’t want her I’ll sell her for what I can, but I’m willing to give her to you, my friend.”
We’re not friends. Memories of his own arrival in this armpit of a system surged into his mind. The smell of the slave market was nauseating, but that was easy to cope with. Mara’s tears had been the hardest to deal with. The images still tore at him. He pushed hard against the memories, forcing them back into the dark depths. “28,000.”
“What?”
“If I agree,” he wagged his finger for emphasis, “you give me the girl and, immediately after you sell the cargo, I get the 20,000 credits you already owe me and 8,000 for the fuel cells.”
“They’re not worth 8,000!”
“Well, get them from Rumon. Oh…” Justin paused and looked serious, “don’t you owe him even more than you owe me?” He rubbed his chin. “Hmmm, what about Rasnic? No. No, didn’t he threaten to kill you?”
Ferren stared into his eyes. “You’re a hard man.”
Justin shrugged. “I sell junk parts to pirates. What do you expect?”
“I’ll bring in the girl.”
Chapter 2
The light flickered casting the room in alternating shadow and light. Looking up from his sketch pad, Justin’s wondered if it would remain on or would the tiny room be cast into darkness. For now the light held.
Sitting in the corner he looked at the nearby wall. Gray. My world exists in shades of gray. Childhood memories of a green world with blue rivers and sky still haunted his mind, but they were recollections, or dreams. He sighed and the desire to breath fresh air, not the stale brew of the old microworld, weighed upon his mind. I need a vacation. His tongue slid across his lips. And a drink.
A drop of water ran down a line of rust on the bulkhead beside him. Okay, it’s not all gray. He chuckled that a corroded pipe provided a rare display of color. Perhaps I could paint a mural in this compartment. He shook his head. No. It was just a utility room. He casually scraped the rust with his fingernail, then returned his attention to a sketch of a tree-lined valley with a river winding through it. Around him were half a dozen drawings of trees and flowers. Some were fanciful, others realistic, but all were colorful.
He looked at the young woman lying on a cot against the far wall. Her mouth hung slightly open exposing perfect ivory white teeth. Physically she was about the same height, weight and build as his sister. Both were lean and statuesque, reminiscent of an athlete, but the woman before him had more muscle. Both shared the auburn hair that he found attractive and both women kept their hair longer than the current style. Mara did so to cover the implant at the back of her head. He had checked just after Ferren and his thugs had left, the woman on the bunk had no implant. Ferren was right this mystery woman was pretty. Her hair flowed past the pillow and over the side of the cot like water cascading over falls.
Hanging from her neck was a gold medallion on a simple chain. Hidden under her clothing when brought in, it had fallen out as the men plopped her on the cot. Ferren had attempted to take the object. “Take the value off of your bill,” Justin insisted.
His eyes drifted from the medal. For several moments he watched as her breasts rose and fell with each breath. Any man would consider her worth the antique fuel cells he had given Ferren. He stood to get a better view of her face, then flipped the page of the drawing pad and started sketching her as she was, sleeping with hair pouring to one side, but he added just a hint of a smile. He looked back at his sleeping subject. If Ferren never pays me, I’ll still be glad I saved you from him and the market. He stepped closer. His eyes focused on her full lips as he sketched the sleeping angel. She isn’t just pretty, she is beautiful.
She moaned slightly. The drug was wearing off. Hours earlier when Ferren and his men had carried her in, he had asked why she was unconscious.
“She was in a stasis chamber in the cargo bay.” Ferren gave a wicked grin. “Probably a present for somebody.”
She coughed.
His hand froze in mid stroke. He held his breath. His gaze rested easily upon her eyes.
Her lashes fluttered.
Justin glanced at his sketch and closed the pad.
Her head turned. Her eyes opened.
He smiled. “Hello,”
Eyes wide, her mouth opened, but no sound came forth.
He shook his head. “You’re safe.”
The young woman tried to stand, but fell with her back against the wall. “Who are you?”
“Justin. My name is Justin.”
Her eyes darted right and left. “Where am I? What did you do with him?”
“Who?”
Like a leopard she leaped to the corner
and grabbed a length of pipe in her left hand. “The man I was traveling with—my father…” Holding the weapon like a bat she demanded, “Did you kill him?”
Chapter 3
“Calm down,” Justin said, while holding his hands low and apart.
She took a deep breath.
Slowly he stepped forward.
“Don’t come any closer.” She raised the pipe. “I’ll hit you.” She looked about the small room. “Where is he? What have you done with him?”
“You were the only one they brought to me.”
She swung.
He ducked.
Momentum carried her partly around. Justin lunged for her side and with a thud they hit the deck.
“You’re quick,” he said pinning her arms down.
“Release me!” She shouted as she struggled to free the hand the held the pipe. “What did you do with him?” She demanded. Then before he could answer, she cursed him. “Did you kill him?”
Still holding her arms to the floor he shook his head. “No. I mean…I haven’t killed anyone.” Well, lately anyway.
“Is he alive?” Her eyes pleaded.
“I don’t know.
“What do you know, pirate?” Contempt flowed with the words.
Justin marveled that even pinned to the floor she was defiant. “I’m not a pirate,” he said defensively. I sell things to pirates, I repair their ships, but I’m not one.
“Then why are you holding me captive?”
“I’m not.”
She turned and looked at her arms, still firmly held to the ground, on either side of her head.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll make you a deal—let go of the pipe and promise not to hit me with anything and I’ll let go.”
She pushed with both arms and flung a knee toward his groin.
Both attempts failed. Justin sat on her stomach and for a moment stared into her defiant eyes. “Let the pipe go.”
The icy stare slowly melted into acquiescence. “I accept your proposal.” The pipe rolled a few millimeters from her hand.