Ghost of Jupiter (Jade Saito - Action Sci-Fi Series Book 1)

by Tom Jordan

  GHOST OF JUPITER

  JADE SAITO – BOOK 1

  by Tom Jordan

  Copyright Tom Jordan

  2016

  Thank you, Candy, for your encouragement and for watching the little monster so I could write every night. Ghost of Jupiter wouldn't exist without you.

  Thank you to my my beta readers for their time, support, and input:

  Rich, Dan, Kyle, and Candy.

  David Adams: thank you for your willingness to patiently answer questions and share your experience. You've been a great help. Cheers!

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  GHOST OF JUPITER

  JADE SAITO – BOOK 1

  TOM JORDAN

  Chapter 1

  Space, 2643, Socunda System

  A new hologram fizzled to life, bathing Jade in its green glow, and displayed SFM Jump Complete. Her ship’s computer communicated with the beacons at the gate facility, and the holographic interface displayed a notice that Jade had arrived in the Socunda system—right where she’d intended. Ghost of Jupiter’s computer also added a new blip to her map. A moment’s scrutiny revealed the holographic dot wasn’t a ship identifying itself as part of the system defense forces, nor was it SOL-SEC security. Traders wouldn’t be hanging out here circling the small station like this vessel was, either. That left one thing.

  Pirates.

  A surge of fiery nerves rose in Jade’s chest. A glance at her cockpit holos told her that Ghost’s reactor would need a few minutes to recharge the SFM drive capacitors for the jump to her final destination. This pirate knew what he was doing, waiting in a place like this. He’d caught Jade with her pants down.

  She nudged the stick, giving her ship some yaw to point its nose in the direction of the probable pirate. She squinted and scanned the star field outside the cockpit. The other vessel wasn’t visible yet, but the map confirmed its location four and a half kilometers out.

  A holographic notice materialized. The pilot of the other ship, which the map identified as Star of Volga, wanted to open voice communications. Jade ignored the request. Experience told her the pilot was probably after anything of value: ship tech, passengers for ransom, or in Jade’s case, her trade cargo, which there was no way she could relinquish. Jettisoning her cargo at gunpoint would forfeit all the profit she’d make from this run, as well as the capital she’d invested in it—capital she’d earned over the last two years as an independent trader.

  Large trade fleets carried insurance that would cover the loss of goods to pirates. If Jade, as an independent, could have afforded that type of insurance—or defensive mods or weaponry to persuade pirates to keep away—then she wouldn’t have needed to haul goods between systems for a living. Theft protection was too expensive for lone pilots like her due to situations precisely like the one she was in. One pirate like this could derail her career.

  There was no way she could let that happen.

  Warning shots—some kind of glowing energy rounds—flashed by close over her canopy. They lit the cockpit with violet flashes. Jade winced and caught herself ducking, but kept a tight hold on her emotions. This act was to be expected from pirates.

  Since she’d refused the request to open voice communications, a text message appeared.

  GHOST OF JUPITER: CUT YOUR THRUSTERS. JETTISON YOUR CARGO IF YOU WANT TO KEEP YOUR SHIP. MY NEXT SHOTS WON’T MISS.

  Shit.

  She rubbed her forehead. The glove of her formfitting flight suit felt rubbery, and smeared the nervous sweat across her brow.

  Charges for firing on innocent ships were severe nearly everywhere in civilized space. Pirates took a major gamble when they did so. This guy would be in serious trouble if the SFM gate was scanning for weapons fire, or if a system patrol or SOL-SEC showed up.

  Jade peeked at the countdown. One hundred forty-six seconds until the SFM drive was charged and ready. Losing her cargo was not an option.

  Jade had been in this situation twice before, and had learned that the trick was to keep pirates talking until she could get away.

  She tapped out a reply on the sleek display mounted next to her flight seat. WHAT DO YOU MEAN? I DON’T UNDERSTAND.

  “Okay,” she said. “That should buy a few seconds.”

  She disabled a few noncritical ship systems to free up reactor capacity so the SFM drive’s capacitors would charge faster, but it was only going to buy her another fourteen seconds.

  DON’T BULLSHIT ME, came the reply.

  Streaks of energy-weapon fire lanced into her hull, rocking the ship like a toy punched by a giant fist. Warnings blared.

  “God damnit,” Jade hissed. She’d never been fired on before. Star of Volga’s pilot was in for serious trouble if he was ever caught.

  She figured there was one way out of this. If she ran away, the other ship could pursue her with a clear line of fire. Instead, she pushed the throttle forward to its stops, boosting straight toward the would-be pirate. She stepped on a pedal, causing the ship to roll to starboard, and then leaned the flight stick to the side to send Ghost of Jupiter into a tight corkscrew. She passed right over Star of Volga, which then had to turn around and accelerate to pursue, giving her a lead.

  One hundred seconds.

  She wanted to check the damage to her hull, but couldn’t spare a moment’s attention. The pirate ship was behind her now, and she couldn’t let her focus stray in case it opened fire again.

  More energy rounds streaked past the canopy, close and to starboard. A distant part of Jade’s mind wondered how much repair the hull would need, and how much the damage would eat into her profits.

  DON’T SCREW WITH ME!

  Jade switched hands on the flight stick and tapped a quick reply. PLEASE STOP! I HAVE CHILDREN ABOARD! It was a lie, as Jade was the only one on the ship, but it was the best line she could think of.

  She dodged, rolled, and twisted with everything she had, until more weapons fire slammed her ship from behind. A holographic notice appeared over all her other displays and warned her that one of her main propulsion thrusters had taken damage. More rounds cut into her hull and sent Ghost of Jupiter into a dizzy spiral. The pinpoint stars swirled beyond the canopy. The controls were unresponsive.

  Jade clamped down on her emotions. She closed her eyes against the wild spinning of the ship. She took a deep breath in and released it with as much leisure as she could manage.

  “Accept voice request,” she said. A chime sounded to acknowledge a channel was open.

  “Please stand down. Stop firing.” She sighed. “I’m stopping. You can have my cargo.”

  “About time,” a male voice said. “Depressurize and drop your ramp.”

  “Okay. Wait…hang on. It won’t respond. You just damaged it,” she lied. No way she was letting a pirate aboard. He’d take everything. There’d be no pieces of her career left to pick up, and there was no telling what he’d do to her. She shuddered. “But I can open my cargo-loading hatch and jettison wha
t I have. It’s a good load. It was going to be, anyway.”

  “That’ll do. Pleasure doing business with you.”

  The ship corrected its way out of the spin, its tiny maneuvering thrusters countering the forces working on the ship. Jade tapped a quick command to orient Ghost toward a destination within this star system.

  “Okay, hang on, hang on, just…the hatch will open in a minute. I took some hull damage and the controls are—”

  “Don’t fuck with me.”

  A new notice flashed. SFM jump ready in ten seconds.

  Jade let out a controlled breath, but allowed her nerves to slip into her voice. “I’m sorry, it’s just taking a second. Just let me get—there, the hatch is opening. Please don’t shoot.”

  She tapped three buttons in sequence on her display, one finger on each, then mashed her fist on the activation control. Waves of distortion built around Ghost of Jupiter. A tunnel of light materialized as the view outside the cockpit wavered. The other pilot started yelling something through Jade’s earpiece, but the distortion from the Spacetime Field Manipulator scrambled the audio. Star of Volga and the surrounding starfield faded from view.

  The rush of the encounter seemed to fade all at once now that Jade was away from danger. Her limbs shook—something she remembered from tense situations in flight school. She always stayed cool in the moment, but once the adrenaline wore off, it was shaky-limb city.

  Jade let out a shuddering sigh. This was the worst act of piracy she’d dealt with. Even though she’d kept her cargo, she had hull damage to show for it. How many more times could she handle getting shot at, taking damage, or losing cargo before it cost her everything?

  The strange visual effects within the artificial wormhole threw shadows around the cockpit in chaotic patterns, like the troubled thoughts racing through Jade’s mind.

  Chapter 2

  Jade buckled her helmet to her flight suit as the lift doors whooshed shut behind her. She stared down the corridor. Vendors called to her, spotting her as a new arrival.

  “Captain! Welcome to Gibson City! Are you hungry?”

  “Espresso here!”

  “Grass-fed beef from the pastures on Socunda B! The real stuff!”

  Every space dock had a corridor like this one. Spacers called it “Pilot’s Row,” no matter which station they were on. Smaller settlements might only have a few stalls crowding the hangar entrance, but enormous residential stations like Gibson City had halls packed with vendors ready to profit from famished spacers traveling to and from the station’s docking bay.

  Back in the docking bay, some customs folks had given her ship a second glance when they’d spotted the hull damage, but none had questioned her or held her up. She’d need to unload her cargo and have her ship looked at, but the desire for a hot meal pushed her other priorities aside for the moment.

  Jade kept her gaze lowered and stayed in the center of the corridor to avoid attracting attention. She clutched the beat-up duffel she called her “shore-leave” bag as she filtered through the crowd, keeping away from the hawkers pushing food samples. She glanced at each stall to find something inviting to eat, avoiding looking anywhere for too long. Her stomach groaned in response to the aromas of sauteed food and reminded her that she was famished.

  Food, a shower, and sleep. In that order.

  She caught familiar scents of spices and meat from a stall on the left. A row of customers—other starship pilots, judging by their flight gear—sat along a counter and audibly slurped noodles. A white-haired man behind the counter stirred something in a set of metal cauldrons. Steam from the pots billowed beneath a fabric canopy before escaping out its sides, where it was sucked into air reclaimers high above.

  The combination of spicy scents coming from the chef’s stall was intoxicating. Jade closed her eyes and inhaled the distinct aromas of Vietnamese food. She hadn’t had proper Vietnamese in years, and was shocked to find some here at a stall on a random cargo run to the Socunda system, where she’d never been before.

  Jade rushed to the last open stool and waited for the chef to turn around. He was older, with a wrinkled face and a genuine smile. He reminded Jade of her grandfather. His apron was clean and crisp, despite the sweat on his brow and the multitude of prepped ingredients populating every free bit of his small cooking space.

  “Some soup, miss? Beef or chicken? I have real beef for you today.”

  While chickens were often raised on larger stations where there was enough demand, beef was nearly always artificial. Real beef would be a treat.

  “Phở bò, please!” she said.

  The chef raised his eyebrows and set down his ladle. “You speak Vietnamese, young lady?”

  Jade shook her head. Japanese and Korean were spoken fluently—along with English—on her home colony, but Vietnamese wasn’t.

  “No, but Vietnamese food is my favorite! Can you make gỏi cuốn?”

  The chef’s grin expanded. “Yes, miss. Spring roll. Ready for you in a moment.” He turned around and retrieved some ingredients from a small cooler under the counter.

  Jade looked over her shoulder, checking out the shops and eateries crammed against the walls. Her stomach rumbled again as her eyes followed a lonely security drone zipping over the crowd to some unknown destination.

  A buzzing from her wrist computer stole her attention. Blue letters scrolled across the flexible display wrapped around her forearm:

  *** NOTICE OF LOCKDOWN ACTION ***

  Location: < GIBSON CITY DOCK >

  Incident ID: < N784TF >

  Account: < Saito, Jade A. >

  Pilot License: < GU728468HY2X, CLASS A2 >

  Vessel Designation: < Ghost of Jupiter >

  Vessel Registration Number: < 84NFDK76H-76-R09 >

  NOTICE FOLLOWS:

  **

  VIOLATION OF SAPITO COMMERCE AND LOAN CONTRACT SUBSECTION G.45 – FAILURE TO RENDER PAYMENT. YOUR VESSEL IS UNDER LOCKDOWN PENDING RECEIPT OF OVERDUE BALANCE. FAILURE TO PAY WILL RESULT IN COLLECTION ACTION.

  Jade’s head sank to her forearms on the metal table. It’d been at least twenty minutes since she docked. She thought she’d been in the clear this time.

  Every lockdown or debt notice about the unpaid balance on her ship loan felt like it gobbled another piece of her soul. She worried someday it’d be all gone.

  How much longer can I live like this?

  It seemed like the system was designed to keep her exactly where she was, slaving away as an independent trader just to provide interest payments, working for the bank and for the companies that hired her to deliver their cargo, rather than herself. She could never put away any extra money, or indulge in anything beyond basic food and lodging.

  Her business proposal to obtain a ship and work freelance as a trader had been vetted by her counselors when she’d graduated flight school, not two years before. So why was everything turned against her so much more than it should have been?

  She sighed into her folded arms, the blue light of the lockdown notice on her wrist computer casting a glow through her closed eyelids. She’d deliver the cargo in her ship’s hold, clear the lockdown, and then the cycle would continue. She’d just have to find some way to optimize her profits, or make more runs.

  What other option was there?

  Jade raised her head upon hearing the chef slide her a metal plate. It bore a pair of rolls wrapped in translucent rice paper. The chef added a tiny cup of brown liquid. She fought back the lump in her throat and forced a smile his way.

  Jade dipped a spring roll into the sauce and took a big bite. The rice paper contained noodles, sliced lettuce, shrimp, mint, and herbs. It was refreshing and alight with flavor. Her body melted with pleasure—she finally had something to eat other than the meal packs and dried fruit she’d survived on for the last few weeks aboard her ship.

  The chef slid a huge bowl of soup in front of her just as she finished the first spring roll. Jade stuck her nose over the bowl and inhaled, then grinned in del
ight. The other spring roll could wait. She sank her spoon into the broth and used the chopsticks to pile on noodles and a slice of beef, then stuffed the loaded spoon in her mouth. Her eyes closed on their own and she moaned. The slow-simmered beef stock and complex spices united in delicious harmony. She attacked the bowl, savoring every mouthful.

  At least if she went bankrupt here on Gibson City and her ship got repossessed, she’d be stranded somewhere she could get Vietnamese food.

  “Jade? Jade Saito?”

  Jade’s eyes popped open, shattering her soup-induced euphoria. She turned toward the voice.

  “Marco?” she mumbled around a mouthful of noodles, recognizing him right away. He looked the same as he had in flight school—olive skin and dark, wavy hair combed back, brushing his neck and shoulders. Attractive beyond belief.

  What the hell was he doing here? Jade chomped off her mouthful of noodles. They splashed back into the bowl.

  Shit. She looked like total garbage. She’d caught her reflection in the airlock lift as she left the hangar, and it hadn’t been good. Her black hair hung limp, plastered to her face in some spots, tangled and unruly in others. She’d seen her familiar high cheekbones and features revealing Earth Asian heritage, but the young woman staring back at her had looked as fatigued and weary as she felt. Even worse, she felt gross from being aboard her ship for weeks. It wasn’t easy to feel clean and refreshed from washing yourself in microgravity. On top of that, her forehead was now covered with sweat brought on by having her face stuck in a bowl of spicy soup.

  Marco rushed up to her, his wide smile revealing perfect teeth. “Jade!” he said, and scooped her into an embarrassingly tight hug.

  Jade flushed. She hadn’t forgotten Marco one bit. Marco was as memorable as people get.

  How was it possible to run into him way out here?

  “It’s so good to see you again,” Marco said. He squeezed Jade’s shoulder, appraising her from arm’s length. “You look great! I guess spacer life agrees with you!”