Endless Sky (An Island in the Universe Trilogy Book 1)

by Greg Remy

  “Ha,” Kappa breathed from under the bandana.

  Kappa took the man’s badge from his uniform and stood up. He withdrew his two large firearms from their holsters at his sides and pressed the badge to the door.

  Hell was waiting for him within. Kappa’s eyes widened as he saw the senior officers already poised and readied with weapons raised at the open door—at him. Kappa dodged to the side of the doorway, avoiding the barrage of gunfire. Smoke filled the entrance as plasma bolts melted the walls around it. About thirty seconds after, the gunfire ceased. Kappa waited motionless with his pistols at the ready. Several men called out. He did not answer.

  Kappa took a quick peek through the entryway and the gun blasts surged again. One caught the tail of his cloak, instantly burning it black.

  “Oh, hell naw,” declared Kappa, looking down at it as gunfire continued to bear down on his position.

  Kappa’s eyes narrowed to small slits. The entire area was charred black and still plasma blasts continued to impact deeper into the burnt structure. As soon as the shots once more subsided, Kappa raised his guns and in one motion dove in front of the aperture, aiming his pistols mid-leap, and fired a single round from each.

  The two plasma shots hit their mark, igniting the central console into fiery brimstone. A new alarm wailed on the bridge as vacuum systems autonomously worked to expunge the fire. Kappa utilized this moment of discord, while officers shuffled around to avoid being either burnt or windswept, to leap into the room. A few shots flew in Kappa’s direction, but the majority of the officers were unprepared. Kappa was quickly upon the closest, giving him a firm punch to the gut and knocking the air from him. As the man was in the process of bending downward, Kappa used his own momentum to turn with the man, creating a human shield. The gunfire immediately stopped, except for one last delayed shot, which hit the asphyxiated man in the midsection. Kappa, holding the officer with one arm, brought up a pistol over his shoulder and began firing. He turned from target to target around the room, hitting each in various limbs, and sending all to the ground. His aim was true enough; in just a few seconds he had dispatched the entire room.

  Kappa then quickly went around the bridge, knocking all those out who still presented any possible threat. He proceeded to drag all of the officers out of the room. Kappa saved the commander for last. He was outfitted in a silver uniform with many pins about the breast and shoulders. Kappa pulled the badge from his collar and flung him out of the room with the others, sealing the door behind him.

  Kappa looked around the now empty bridge. Though the red flashing lights continued, a calm had entered the control room. On the floor, a dozen trails of blood led to the closed door. The walls were charred black from gunfire. He looked out of the excessive viewing window, presenting an imposing forward view of space. Kappa was completely surrounded by CF crafts. They had set up a giant blockade around him with countless ships.

  Kappa sat in the commander’s seat, a lavish chair centered in the bridge with a control module on either armrest. Kappa put the commander’s badge on his collar. He was now in charge of this steed and free to pilot it as he wished. With two hands on the control consoles, he quickly set about powering up all of the carrier’s weapons. He scrolled through the list, checking off entire categories of armaments.

  “Thirty aft 30-centimeter phaser cannons. Forty-five 45-centimeter quad cannons. One hundred 10-meter plasma mortars. Scalar torpedoes. Boltzman multipliers...”

  In minutes, he had over 1,000 weapons of the CF carrier under his command. They were located all along the exterior of the gigantic craft, capable of targeting enemies at any angle. He set each to fire in a circular pattern at random intervals. Kappa grinned and pressed ‘Enter.’

  The result was amazing. A lightshow of gunfire shot out from the vessel. Plasma beams and artillery shells fired randomly in all directions. CF ships broke from their formations, attempting to dodge the chaotic gunfire. Kappa saw several even collide with each other.

  “Amateurs,” he muttered.

  With the confusion outside fully in motion, Kappa went to work using his new rank to disengage the Slough Force Shield around the Regency Station and remove as much of its secondary encoding allowable in hopes of unbalancing the system and frying some relays to give Zoe and Darious more time. When the computer asked him to confirm his order, Kappa affirmed with a bang of his great fist on the ‘Enter’ button. The shield dissolved and went completely offline. He smirked as he thought how such an armada as this, when just a bit perturbed, could become such a muddled mess.

  Next, Kappa prepared the carrier’s weapons for a focused burst directly forward. The spinning turrets swiveled dead ahead and fired in unison. CF ships scrambled to get out of the way and in doing so created a clear path for Kappa. He punched the thrusters to maximum, blasting forward and away from the Regency Station, with the entire CF fleet following right behind his spurs.

  Chapter 39

  Cold War

  Zoe had synced her lightcard to the CF maintenance ship’s meager speakers and her bass music—upbeat battle tunes for the occasion, echoed through the craft. Darious was in the copilot’s seat, reading a textbook he had brought along. He paused his reading and looked over at Zoe who was playing a game on the console.

  “Zoe?”

  “Yes, Darious?” she did not look up from the rows of ships she was blowing away with pixilated fury.

  “The program we are set to install on the CF Regency Station…”

  Zoe diminished the game and looked over at him. She could see he was in an introspective mood and recognized his concerned expression.

  “The program,” he tried again. “It is no doubt ingenious. It is a perfect marriage of your resonance physics skills and your love of coding. However, I feel sometimes, we as humans can dig wells too deep for our thirst of knowledge and risk exposing the hellfire beneath.”

  “Well said,” Zoe responded.

  He tapped gently on the console. “I understand the worm’s necessity for our current use. But beyond that, I am worried if it happened into the wrong hands, it could be utilized too easily for malevolent purposes.”

  “I agree with you. If programmed with other directives, it could send us into a galactic dark age. I should have dumped it a long time ago.” She looked deep into his tattooed eyes. “Darious, after we are done here, I promise I will scrub it from the computer systems. It will be no more.” She could see his expression ease. “Aw, it ain’t no thing. And you’re right. Thank you.” She gave him a big smile. “So, Mister, how far out are we?”

  He manipulated the console. “We should be arriving in a couple minutes.”

  “Good, just enough time to finish this level.”

  Soon enough they were upon the Galaxy-Class Regency Station. As it came into view Darious uttered his amazement. Zoe whistled.

  “That is one large boat,” she said.

  The enormous CF station, shaped by a spherical hull, floated stationary in space. It glinted with a pearlescent silver sheen and dim green lights glowed from its many levels of windows. The station was completely by itself. Zoe reflected that there should be an entire fleet of vessels around it. The Regency Station was, after all, a galactic base of operations for the CF. Then a piece of spaceship debris passed by their bow.

  “I dunno’ what Kappa did here, but he seems to have gotten’ the job done,” said Zoe.

  “Indeed,” said Darious, reading from the console. “The shield is offline and according to the long-range scanners, this is the only vessel in the region.”

  Just then, they were hailed by the Regency Station. Zoe quickly accepted the call.

  “Good day,” she said. “This is CF 232-C repair ship. We have been instructed to fix an error associated with the security systems of the station.”

  “Good day, CF 232. Prepare to dock at gate 1 dash 23.” The speakers crackled, and the voice added. “It’s been a bit of a wild day for us here.”

  Zoe could only assume
to what the traffic controller was referring to. She sailed the clunky maintenance craft to the Regency Station and let it auto-dock when they were within range. Zoe double-checked Wiggles the Worm on her lightcard and tucked it away in her shirt. Darious left the cockpit and returned with the two blue jumpsuits. He handed one to Zoe and zipped his up over his clothes. Zoe did likewise. She smirked upon noticing the large oil stain across the stomach.

  The ship lightly rocked as it landed in the bay. Zoe flipped off the engines and grabbed a clipboard-style tablet from the captain’s seat pocket.

  “Shall we?” she asked Darious, who nodded in the affirmative.

  They walked off the ship and were greeted by a single officer.

  “Hello sir,” said Zoe, saluting him. Darious copied her motions and the man saluted back.

  “Good day.” He undoubtedly noticed the markings on Darious and grimaced. Looking past them to the CF ship, his face turned even more sour. “Ma’am,” he stated. “Your craft…” he walked over to it and peeled off a piece of flaking paint. “Your craft should be better maintained.”

  “Certainly sir,” Zoe chirped. “We had been scheduled for a re-fit and were en-route when we received priority orders for security repairs on this station.”

  “I see. Please, follow me.”

  He turned on his heel and they followed him into the passages of the Regency Station. Despite the military air of the ship, the corridors were very broad and well-lit with glossy flooring that looked like metalized marble. It hardly seemed like a space-faring vessel at all. The Regency Station’s numeric indications made little sense to Zoe. How had they gone from Section 101 to 193 by only passing through a dozen junctions? The officer could be leading them in circles for all she knew. She shrugged off the discombobulation sensation and sped up to be alongside the officer.

  “Sir,” she said, “when landing, we were informed there was some sort of hubbub recently.”

  The officer turned toward her and nodded. “There was an attack earlier.”

  “An attack!?” asked Zoe astonished. “On this station!?”

  “The attacker was unable to penetrate into the station. Instead, he fled with the fleet in pursuit. I’m sure by now they have captured the anarchist.”

  “I’ve never heard of such a thing—an attack on a galactic station. A single attacker you say?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The officer pivoted and stopped abruptly in front of a metallic door. He saluted them, turned, and left. Zoe and Darious stared at the door.

  “Well,” said Zoe turning to Darious, “I suppose we’re supposed to go through.”

  She pressed a button and the door slid open. The pair entered midway into a service corridor with many conduits along the walls. Zoo looked down one way then the other. It seemed to go on forever.

  “Ugh. We don’t have time to figure out where we need to be going.”

  A voice called out from behind them and Zoe turned to see a man jogging toward them. He wore a similar blue jumpsuit as them, though his was much more well-kept. As he approached, Zoe noticed the rank upon his chest—he was the head mechanic.

  “Hello,” he said with a quick salute. The head mechanic was a burly man with a full beard and mustache covering much of his face. “I was just informed you’d arrived. I’m surprised you came so quickly. The call went out for maintenance support only a hair ago.” He looked at both of them. “Just you and a utility aid?”

  “Yes sir,” said Zoe.

  “Well then, let’s get started.”

  Zoe walked abreast with the mechanic through the maintenance corridor while Darious followed closely behind.

  “What a day,” the mechanic stated. “Would you believe it? Now the crazies are targeting CF bases. I’ve seen some things in my day, but nothing like this. Phew.”

  “Indeed? What happened?” asked Darious.

  The mechanic turned back and gave him a dirty look and then responded to Zoe as if she had been the one to ask the question.

  “I was told a single man in a single ship came through, flying right into a Stellar B8 Carrier. He then went about shooting up the place and took control of it. At the same time, our force shield went down. It was anticipated he was going to use the B8 to fire on the station, but instead he got wise and ran.”

  “Wow,” said Zoe. “Those crazies.”

  “I just filed the report to get the shield up and running again. I guess you two must have been in the area. It looks like a dozen systems have been corrupted. Even the back-ups are down. No physical damage thankfully. Even still, I had asked for a full specialized shield team to support with repairs.”

  “Have no worries, we can fix it,” said Zoe happily.

  He eyed her skeptically, prompting her to pull up the tablet and type some notes onto it. They turned into a new corridor with brightly marked fuel lines.

  “You looked a bit lost when I caught up with you.”

  “A bit,” said Zoe.

  “Ever been onboard a Regency station?” he asked.

  “No,” said Zoe.

  “But, you have experience with CF Slough Force Shielding Systems?”

  Zoe winced at her verbal error. “You see sir, ahem, we have been recently training at the Sector Ceta Command School. My coworker—aid—and I scored top marks with regards to shield programming. We’re the ones for the job”

  The mechanic did not respond, and they continued on for some time in silence. Eventually they came to an octagonal door with a control panel. The mechanic typed into it and the door opened, revealing a large room full of cabling under the grid floor. It was somewhat dark in the room. The majority of light came from the wall of computers and workstations.

  The head mechanic sat before the largest computer console and logged onto it. He navigated to the shield sectors as Zoe and Darious looked on. Zoe handed the tablet to Darious and took a seat next to him. Using the console next to his, she began piggybacking from his work and soon surpassed him. About a half hour later, the mechanic leaned back in his chair and exhaled.

  “My lady. You are certainly apt.”

  “It’s all in the wrists,” she said.

  “‘All in the wrists;’ that’s a good one. Every single new subroutine I look into, you’ve already repaired. You’re far too quick for me.” He swiveled in his chair toward her. “I suppose I was wrong about needing a team, you are a one-mechanic army. I can see I am of little use here. And it’s not often I get to say that, so I guess you’re one up on me.”

  Zoe jumped at the opportunity. “Would you mind getting me something to drink? I’m so parched I can barely think.” She smiled as big as she could. “A cold water would be nice!”

  “I too would like one,” added Darious.

  The mechanic nodded once in a stilted manner and left. Immediately, Zoe pulled out her lightcard and synced it to the workstation. With a few keystrokes, Wiggles began downloading in tiny bits, masked within the station’s own data streams. The download took just one minute to complete.

  “Annnd done,” said Zoe, snapping up the lightcard from the console and tucking it back under her clothes.

  The worm was now being transmitted over all channels, everywhere. It would take a day or so for the data of their invisible surroundings to be acquired and be transmitted all back to her ship. That was the thought anyhow. Zoe heard the mechanic’s steps on the metal grating just as she was navigating backwards to the shield’s programming section that she was supposed to be working on. He came in, holding a bottle of water in each hand. He sat next to Zoe and handed one to her and then drank from the other one.

  “Thank you much,” Zoe said. She gave the chilled bottle to Darious. “We are just about finished here. Just a couple more...” She faded off, typing into the console. “Ah. Finished.” Zoe turned her chair around, facing Darius. “How’s the water, Sir?”

  He was about to respond but was interrupted by the mechanic.

  “Done?!” the head mechanic looked at the con
sole. “Shit! Miss, you are something else.” He reviewed the diagnostic logs. “It all looks good. My regards to your instructors; I will have to put in a good word for you.” He stood up and offered a hand to help Zoe up. “We could use someone of your talents onboard. Your designation?”

  “I’m sorry?” asked Zoe.

  “So that I may put in a good word for you.”

  “Oh.” She laughed him off. “Not necessary, just doing my duty.”

  “Designation please.” The niceties of the head mechanic’s request fell away. Just then, the phone at his belt went off. He promptly answered it. “Yes sir.”

  Zoe could only make out incoherent murmurs from the other end.

  “Yes sir,” he repeated. The mechanic replaced the phone at his side. “The guys upstairs say everything looks good; all systems are back online.”

  Zoe simply bowed and ushered Darious to the door.

  “Hey,” she said, hoping to put another mental block in the mechanic’s mind, “got any good tricks for getting a stain out of this thing?” She pushed out her paunch and pointed to the brown blob.

  “Ha. Sure do,” responded the mechanic. “Throw it away and grab a new one. Why waste time cleaning it?”

  “Ah, good call,” said Zoe.

  The three began walking down the corridor. The mechanic was typing on his phone’s screen and Zoe didn’t attempt to stir up further conversation. As they rounded a corner, his phone rang again.

  “Sir?” the mechanic spoke into it. He immediately straightened his stride. Zoe pretended not to notice, but put a nonchalant ear toward the call. An uneasy feeling began creeping up in her. “Sir. Yes Sir. Thank you, Sir.” He put the phone back into its holster. “The Commander would like a word before you depart.”

  Zoe’s blood ran cold. The Commander? The Commander of this colossal station with an entire fleet under his control? What could he want to say to her, a mechanic? ‘Oh, thanks for fixing our ship?’ Should they make a run for it now? Zoe swallowed her fear.