Alutia Rising, Anniversary Edition (Alutia Rising Series, Book 1)

by Craig Gerttula

  There was no kickback as a green laser bolt, about five times the diameter of the weapon itself, shot out of the arrow shaped tip, blasting a hole straight through the wall and deep into the earth beyond.

  “Wow,” he whistled, the button staying depressed for a second before popping back out, ready to fire again. He didn't notice any ammo or battery slots, leading him to believe the weapon had either a set amount of shots, then had to be discarded, was self-charging, or required a charging station of some sort when depleted. Content he could protect himself in a pinch, Trent slid the weapon back into the holster and requested directions to medical bay one.

  “Transport tube station 1324 can be found 50 meters down corridor 2.34, to the right of your current location.” Trent nodded to the metallic voice as he began to stroll in the direction indicated, chuckling at the absurdity of the gesture...the voice is just in your head after all.

  The transport tube station looked similar to a standard elevator stop you’d find in most buildings, but instead of the closed doors hiding the elevator shafts from those who waited in the lobby, 20 meter diameter transparent cylindrical tubes lined the walls like tightly packed bamboo, vanishing into the floor and ceiling. When he approached the closest, an indiscernible door slid open and a transparent transport, except for the floor and ceiling, appeared within.

  After taking a deep breath, and convincing himself it looked safe, even though the transport appeared to hover in place, no wires or connectors apparent, he stepped inside. The door slide shut behind him, and a single handle extended from the ceiling above.

  “Please state your destination,” a pleasant, feminine voice requested. It took him a second to register that the voice hadn’t actually come through his ears, since it sounded differently to the one he had become accustomed to hearing within his mind.

  “Medical bay one, please,” he thought back. The transport tube shot off at a speed his mind cried should have sent him flying, causing him to grasp the handle desperately, but he barely felt the movement.

  Gradually, he relaxed, the ride uneventful. The walls beyond the transparent tube were too dark to see, while the interior of the transport itself was empty of anything worth his attention. After about 10 minutes, the tube slowed to a stop, opening into a grand lobby.

  His senses felt as if they would overload at its exquisite design and striking coloring, being so very unlike the parts of the base he had previously experienced. Navy blue rugs covered the open floors before the circling transport tubes, with a massive fountain set in the center. A statue standing larger than life in the midst of the tumbling water, made of a swirling metallic material that he had never before seen. The statue itself depicted a mountain of a man with a dense bearded, his expression stoic, almost heroic, standing larger than life. It reminded him eerily of the man he briefly met before; a Knight Captain Quinn, though the depiction seemed so very unlike the kindly old man.

  The lobby extended into an enormous globular room, with a domed ceiling that stretched for hundreds of meters, with large window's set at even intervals on the rising white walls. The domed ceiling itself was painted with the likeness of Earth, blue and white light streaming through strategically placed gaps, making the painting feel alive.

  Past the fountain and lobby, in the center of the large globular room, grew a tree that stood over 100 meters tall, a redwood, fir, or ash, Trent wasn't quite sure. It stood atop a grassy knoll that looked much too small to hold its behemoth trunk, surrounded by a five meter wall of pure silver. Carved benches and tables surrounded its base, with small bushes and flowering plants growing between in grassy meadows cut within the carpeted floor.

  “An indoor park?” he wondered as he noticed more of the seating areas set within tiny meadows situated throughout the enormous promenade.

  His gaze was drawn to the right of the majestic tree, to an arched double doorway set into the curving wall with the word, Medical, floating just above. On the opposite side stood another door of much larger size, with the words, Hangar Bay, rounding its edge. Directly across from Trent, on the far side of the majestic tree, curved a row of doors with the words, Command and Control, streaming just above.

  Trent, beyond amazed at the grandiose sight, crept slowly out of the lobby, like a gazelle fearful that a lioness may be hiding in the tall grass. But he lowered his guard when he found no movement, the room empty, and started trotting towards the door with the sign medical floating above, thinking it must lead to medical bay one.

  He caught sight of something black and misshapen littering the floor beyond the large tree, just outside one of the meadows. As he stared intently at the out of place objects, the carpet jump up to trip him. He stumbled, and at the same moment his mind registered what he was actually seeing...charred and smoldering remains. He recovered quickly, trying to resist the urge to panic as he started back towards the transport tube station. A massive door slammed shut, sending him tumbling in a blast of wind and blocking his only escape.

  “Well, well, well, what have we hear, Enlistment Candidate Trent if I am not mistaken,” a voice boomed as he recovered his feet, “I was getting so very tired of searching for you while that disgusting man Quinn acted as if you did not exist. But now, now I know...and now you are mine. I will make sure you'll never open that petty mouth of yours again,” Trent would never forget the voice of Sir Simwa, still as venomous as the first time he heard it.

  Before he could respond, the hanger bay door split open and four men emerged, wearing green uniforms, with weapons drawn. Trent's mind went blank as he drew his own while breaking into a full sprint back towards the door marked medical, thinking it his only salvation. Three laser bolts burst into the spot he just vacated, sending up tendrils of smoke and searing debris. He returned a bolt of his own, splitting the four men as they dove to the floor for cover. He caught a glimpse of a larger group emerging from the doorway beyond the smoldering remains, from the command center. They fired wildly as they ran to cut him off, the green laser bolts missing well wide.

  He glanced over his shoulder only to lose his footing where the carpet turned to grass, accidently falling into a roll. Two more laser bolts scorched the air overhead where he’d just been. He rolled behind a bench, firing two quick shots at his pursuers, and one at the group trying to cut him off, before rushing again towards medical. Another group emerged, this one directly in his path, from the doorway of his salvation. They raised their weapons, aiming in his direction, and his heart stopped.

  “Damn,” he breathed, realizing his end was drawing near. He dove towards the curving wall, squatting behind a narrow plant, prepared to fight his attackers to his last breath.

  Laser bolts streamed forth, but not aimed at him. Two of those who'd emerged from medical, ignored Trent and started firing on those who pursued him. One of Trent's pursuers fell, a smoldering hole in his chest, while the group that emerged from the command center started fumbling back to cover. Trent quickly recovered himself, sprinting towards the medical bay as mayhem ensued around him. It took only a moment to reach the group who had come to his aid. He turned, prepared to help those who were holding back the assault.

  “Inside, now!” a woman shouted as she grabbed Trent and dragged him through the door. The two other men fired a final salvo, then followed, slamming the door shut and barring it behind them.

  Trent collapsed heavily to the floor, breathing deeply while looking up at his saviors. The woman who'd dragged him inside, leveled her weapon on his chest.

  “Drop your laser arc!” she shouted, voice trembling. Trent, realizing he was still holding his weapon, dropped it obediently, thinking it the laser arc in which she referred.

  “Name and rank! Speak it quick if you want to live,” Trent had instinctively raised his hands as she continued shouting.

  “My name is Trent and I don't have a rank. I just woke up and have absolutely no idea what is going on,” her jaw fell open, eyes going wide with shock before filling with an icy fury. The look w
as familiar, and Trent thought his life would soon be over, when a young man, a sly smile on his lips, emerged from the shadows, moving before the woman, blocking her raised weapon.

  “Stand down, Private Jan'Lus,” he instructed calmly. Trent couldn't clearly see her face, but heard a primordial grunt escape as she lowered the weapon.

  “This is the guy, Taku! The one that Sir Simwa wants...the cause of this entire mess! Let's kill him and hand him over!” Trent froze again as he heard the words “kill” and “Sir Simwa” erupt from this Private Jan'Lus’s lips. He glanced down to his right, seeing that his laser arc was still well within reach. He started inching closer.

  “That is exactly why we can't hand him over, Private. Sir Simwa is not to be trusted and Knight Captain Quinn left a standing order, which if you recall stated to not hand over the new recruit named Trent to the NHA Liaison’s retainers, no matter what. Who do you report too? Knight Captain Quinn or Sir Simwa?” The young man named Taku questioned, voice of authority. Trent could see Jan'Lus trembling, anger spilling through her every pour. She looked at Trent.

  “This is all your fault!” she shouted, again raising her weapon. Trent started to move, but Taku was faster. With an unexpected quickness, he disarmed her in one motion, while knocking her unconscious to the floor. The young man shook out his hand, trying to remove the sting from the punch, as he started down upon the unconscious Jan’Lus.

  “And it's Lieutenant Taku you twit,” he spat as he looked to the two men standing in shock.

  “Take her to the rear and tell De'Witt to keep her out and restrained. I know we need every able body, but I don't think we can trust her.” The two men quickly overcame their shock and saluted, dragging the unconscious Private Jan'Lus out of sight. Taku then turned to Trent, helping him to his feet, allowing him to get a good look at the young man.

  He was definitely of Asian descent, with short black hair and distinctly cut features, but he looked like a teenager, no older then sixteen. He stood slightly shorter then Trent and had a skinny, muscular build that based on how easily he disarmed the larger woman, was sure contained a hidden strength.

  “So...you are the mysterious fellow Trent who started this entire fiasco, are you?” Trent couldn't mask his surprise by the unexpected words and icy tone.

  “I'm sorry...I don't have the faintest idea how I could have started anything. I just woke up a couple hours ago and before that, the last thing I remember is being shot by Sir Simwa,” Trent explained, his frustration taking the place of the surprise.

  “You were shot by Sir Simwa?” Taku asked, obviously puzzled, “That story is slightly different than the one we have been hearing,” Taku squatted, picking up Jan’Lus’s laser arc. “From what Sir Simwa and his noble comrades have been clamoring, is that you dishonored him and, along with the commander and vice-commander, tried to murder him in cold blood,” Taku stood, a small smirk creeping across his lips, apparently amused at how Trent's expression turned to utter confusion. He was about to respond when Taku held up a hand.

  “Before you elaborate, let's go to the back, I'd like everyone to hear your story...and I'll see about getting a Program to verify if you're actually telling the truth,” Taku finished, looking him up and down, smiled again, then walked casually past him. Trent followed cautiously behind.

  The medical bay was similar to the one he'd left earlier, but there were less of the ellipsoid “coffins” and much more equipment he didn’t recognize mixed amongst silver crates. When they reached the rear doorway, the two men who'd carried Jan'Lus away exited, saluting swiftly, before rushing back towards the front entrance.

  The square room in the back of the medical bay was enormous, with groups of different sizes scattered all around, sitting atop silver crates, eyeing him warily. Most wore blue and white jumpsuits similar to Trent’s, while others wore what looked like military uniforms of an identical coloring. Additional ellipsoid “coffins” lined the back wall of the chamber, with piles of unorganized supplies set throughout. Trent followed Taku to the center of the room.

  “Program,” Taku looked towards the ceiling, “I would like authorization to conduct an interview with truth finding protocols enabled,” said Taku politely. The small groups, their curiosity overpowering their caution, started shuffling closer.

  “Permission granted. All statements are now being logged,” the monotone voice Trent had almost forgotten, but not quite, replied.

  “Attention!” Taku turned to the gathering crowd. “As you've all heard from the NHA nobility, our commander and vice-commander, along with an enlistment candidate named Trent, dishonored and assaulted Sir Simwa, the NHA Liaison to the TSB. Sir Simwa demanded justice and claims he was denied and imprisoned, which is why we are facing this current predicament,” murmurs of agreement rolled through the crowd as Taku's words trailed off. “Well, my fellow honorable TSB officers and crewmen, we have a guest who may be able to shed some light on exactly how truthful these claims may be,” he turned to Trent with a flourish, “Now Trent, let us hear your side of the story, and remember to speak only truths,” Taku pointed up to the ceiling, “for we will know if you are lying.” Trent stared at Taku, then the crowd, who broke out into a sea of angry whispers when they heard his name, and sighed, sitting upon a small crate provided and began his story.

  “I guess I'll start from the beginning,” the crowd went silent, “...I was walking down an old railroad track about 250 kilometers west of the Old Boston’s industrial district when...”

  Chapter 12

  She studied the unexpectedly seductive woman being reflected in the narrow mirror, running her hands over the rose red and black jumpsuit that lay flush against every curve, flattening imaginary creases while calming her racing heart. Terra squawked as he started circling her neck, letting his irritation known at being separated from his favorite sleeping spot. Sasha exhaled, slowly removing the latches at the top of the jumpsuit one after the other until the irritating squeals vanished and a fuzzy warmth snuggled between her bosoms.

  “At least I don’t look too much like a paramour,” she muttered, noting that Terra appeared content with allowing her to show only a modest portion of her cleavage. She thanked him, and the universe, for small favors, while grabbing her laser arc, the last piece of her new ensemble, to latch it over her shoulder, before hurrying from her temporary quarters, towards the waiting briefing room.

  Almost two days had passed since they set their plan in motion, and they had already fallen over a day behind schedule. They could have started sooner, but Sasha had been vague when explaining her plan to Tho’Mos, who programmed the wrong agent into the detector. He’d chosen, as anyone would have expected, the most effective option for incapacitating the traitors. Unfortunately, that particular agent was occasionally lethal if those exposed were left untreated for an extended period of time. So after much debate, where Sasha clearly explained she wouldn't accept the risk that it may accidently kill the hostages, it was decided enough time remained to reprogram the foreign agent detector with the less effective, but also less lethal, alternative.

  Communications with the assault shuttle trailing the ABF Princess One had cut off a little over a day before. Apparently, someone on the bridge had stumbled upon their unauthorized access to the short range communication array and decided to overload the entire system. This baffled everyone, since it would also influence the traitor's ability to communicate with their allies, presumably the Hulk'Zif Battle Fleet, when they arrived at the Earth star system. But one critical piece of information slipped through before communications were lost; they were still a day away from Earth.

  Sasha walked briskly into the briefing room and everyone stood, saluting. Surprised, she clumsily saluted back, stopping her trained curtsy before it began when she realized how foolish it would look with her current attire.

  “Thank you everyone. Please be at ease and we will review the plan one last time,” Sasha glanced to Knight Admiral Bhool, who nodded, accessing a detailed
schematic of the shuttle to be projected by the PDU built into the ceiling of the briefing room.

  “It's go time, ladies and gentlemen,” she started to pace about the projection. “We are less than an hour from the outer edge of the Earth's star system to be handed over to Duke Zehman for a fate I cannot begin to describe,” she looked at Sasha, eyes of concern. Sasha nodded back, knowing that she would be the one that would feel the brunt of Duke Zehman's wrath should she be captured alive. “First, we will be splitting into three teams. Alutia One, which will be personally led by me, will assault the bridge and the forward passenger compartment, regaining control of the helm and trying to redirect our course towards the TSB Fleet Base before we rendezvous with the HZBF invasion fleet.” Originally, they'd planned on attempting to rendezvous with the trailing assault shuttle. But Vin had intervened, recommending the TSB Fleet Base instead. Apparently, when the short range communications were cut, the assault shuttle had closed to within LPA range and after a brief exchange of fire, had been forced to fall well off the trail.

  “Alutia Two, led by Alutia Guard Private Usa'Pol, will ascend the elevator shaft and secure the guard barracks and Grand Duchess Sasha’s apartments. Alutia Three, led by Senior Deck Engineer Tho'Mos, will release the sleeping agent into the air supply, then secure the incapacitated guards and move them to the temporary holding cell we erected in the engineering tools department,” she turned to Sasha, “Your Grace, you and your ladies-in-waiting, including Servant Gil'Da and Alutia Guard Lieutenant Lia'Sil, will be on standby within the ferry shuttle. If anything happens, you will launch immediately and without question, and set a course directly for the TSB Fleet Base. The ferry shuttle should be small enough to pass through most sensor nets, but just in case, you will go communication silent and not respond to any starship you encounter on route...no matter if they are TSB or ABF. We do not know the situation within the inner star system and Earth may have already fallen to enemy hands,” Lady Bhool paused, considering her next words. “If that is indeed the case, you will change course to the outer star system, to the coordinates I will provide to Vin, where an allied starship should, eventually, rendezvous,” Sasha’s heart screamed an objection, wanting to stay behind so she could assist, but she held her tongue. In the current circumstances...she was useless.