by Matt Verish
ASTERIUS
An Interstellar Cargo Tale
This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this novel are either fictitious or are used fictitiously.
No part of this work may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the authors.
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2016 by Matt Verish (Night Apple, LLC)
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Written by Matt Verish
Edited by Stefanie Verish
Cover image by Shutterstock
Cover lettering and eBook layout by Matt Verish
Author photo by Stefanie Verish
First published: 05/01/2016
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
ALSO AVAILABLE
ASTERIUS
1 | ICV-71
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ALSO AVAILABLE
Interstellar Cargo Series
Icarus
Daedalus
Lazarus
Interstellar Cargo Tales
Asterius
ASTERIUS
THIS IS NOT A DRILL!
The urgent words flashed brilliant red on Tessa’s Ocunet display. They were almost as loud as the klaxons wailing around her. An executive order had been sent to the entire crew of the Asterius, and she knew that meant one thing: combat.
She bolted from her bunk, six years of training preparing her for such an event. Not since the end of the Carbon War had anyone throughout the System engaged in conflict, though that did not curb Military’s anticipation for another galactic collapse. Her body was on autopilot while she read the briefing. A flurry of activity raged outside of her cramped officer quarters, and she was suddenly grateful for her limited privacy. It seemed her recently acquired title of Commander, Air Group was already bearing fruit.
Scanning the information scrolling before her eyes, Tessa locked onto two words: Black Dwarf. She shivered. As she finished tying the laces of her boots, she continued reading and began to understand the severity of the situation.
“Captain Adrace.”
Tessa shot to her feet, her body erect. She gave a sharp salute. “Colonel, sir!”
“As you were, Captain. Don’t let silly old me hold you up. Just pretend I’m your conscience while you frantically rush to the launch bay.”
Tessa grinned ear-to-ear. “Aye aye, Colonel.” She tightened the last knot, grabbed her flight jacket, and exited her quarters. She immediately calmed as she viewed her friend through Ocunet. Her augmented reality lenses were the main way she kept in contact with him since his prestigious promotion. She snuck glances at the young executive officer as she worked her way through the writhing mass of the Asterius crew. He was simply staring at her. What’s he waiting for?
“It’s been a while, Tessa.”
Oh no... Is this really happening? Tessa thought, confounded by his bizarre conversational timing. How am I supposed to respond? He called me by my first name. Should I return the favor? “Is this a secure line, sir?”
“Captain, I didn’t become the youngest executive officer by screwing up something as simple as line securement. What do you think the answer is?”
Tessa’s brow furrowed as she slid between two low-ranking officers. “No?”
The man sighed and frowned, looking over his shoulder. “Huh. I guess you’re right. I forgot where I was when I made this call.” He clicked his tongue and gave a few quick flicks of his hand. “There. Secure. But it doesn’t matter; no one’s listening right now anyway. How can they, what with all this damn noise....”
Tessa smiled, and some of the surrounding officers and pilots cast her suspicious glances. “Cole, what do you want?” It felt odd—criminal, almost—to speak aloud her best friend and second-in-command by his first name. “I’m a little busy heading for my squadron.”
He waved her off. “Yeah, yeah, they’re used to you being late.” He winked.
“Don’t you have a ship to help run or something?” Tessa asked as she stormed down a set of steps. “I’m sure Admiral Preston could use some assistance.”
“Ah, these stiffs are like a well-oiled machine up here on the bridge,” Cole said. He cringed and faced someone on his right. “Sorry about the ‘stiffs’ comment, Ensign, but it’s true. Best you get used to my mouth.” He stared a bit longer. “I didn’t see you salute me, soldier.”
Tessa laughed. “Cole?”
“What?”
“I’m nearly to the bay. Was there something you wanted to tell me? Words of wisdom you wished to impart, perhaps? Advice on how to tackle Black Dwarf?”
“You certainly have a mouth on you, Captain. Waving around your CAG flag like you own this boat. Heh.” He leaned closer to his camera, and Tessa knew all joking was about to cease. “These BD assholes are no joke, Tessa. Something about the distress signal and their presence at the Research space station bothers me.”
Tessa slowed when she approached the lift. “I figured their involvement with anything was cause for concern. What makes this any different?”
Cole sighed. “Their infiltration of a UniSys establishment is a first for them. They’ve grown bold. Too bold—even for them. Normally they like to operate in the shadows, conducting their ‘business’ out of government reach.”
The door to the lift slid open, and Tessa entered. She held up her hand to refuse entry of another officer. The mechanic scowled but knew better than to question a superior. She offered an angelic smile as the door closed, and she had privacy once more. Maybe Cole’s right about me waving my “CAG flag.” “Sounds like they’re branching out into bigger and better ventures.”
She studied Cole’s pensive expression, and for a moment, he looked every bit his twenty-five years of age to her. His imposing uniform, heavy with insignia, could not hide the concern in his strong, dark features. He’s really worried.
“There’s something else going on here. This whole thing has UniSys’s stink all over it.”
Tessa’s eyes widened as she exited the lift toward the launch bay. She wasn’t sure she had heard him properly over the klaxons. “An inside job? Cole, to even think that is trea—”
“I know, I know,” he said, waving her off again. “We wouldn’t want to speak ill of the people who sign our pay checks.”
I hope he’s wrong about this. “What does this all have to do with me?”
Cole pulled away from his camera, and stood up a little straighter. “Once you and your team clear out the infestation that is Black Dwarf, you’re to dock with the station and secure it. A reconnaissance vessel will arrive shortly thereafter.” He cleared his throat. “I’m entrusting you with another mission. A secret mission.”
Tessa’s mouth hung open, and she hoped her squadron hadn’t noticed.
Cole glanced over his shoulder, and started to walk. His camera followed, keeping tabs on his face. She could only assume he was seeking out an area where he could speak to her in private.
“Preston will likely conduct an investigation,” Cole continued, his voice lowered. He appeared to be away from the chaos that was the ship’s bridge, though she could still hear numerous voices shouting orders in the background. “Though we both know his loyalty to Military is to a fault, and his superiors will force him to sweep this debacle under the rug.” He breathed a sharp sigh. “I’m certain what you uncover inside that station will shake the System’s foundation.”
Tessa still could not find her voice, nor could she approach her fighter. She could not believe what she was hearing. Find what? What is he about to ask of me?
&nbs
p; She got her answer.
~
The mark III Mamba fighter craft was as deadly as it was beautiful: sleek, fast, black as midnight, and a bite delivery as severe as its namesake. Outside of the fearsome Terracom—the System’s wealthiest terraforming corporation—Military had an excess of unicred funded to them, and they spared no expense in the department of high-end armament.
Tessa climbed the access ladder leading to her Mamba’s cockpit, the details of her mission buzzing furiously inside her head. Cole’s secret mission only added to her anxiety.
Her long-time friend and superior had logged off from her view, though he had promised to rejoin her once certain duties were fulfilled on the bridge. She wasn’t entirely sure she wanted him to pop in and out of her vision at random. It wasn’t like she was about to take on a terrorist organization or anything. How does Admiral Preston tolerate him?
She plopped into the bucket seat, and the canopy slid and locked tightly into place. The avionics console illuminated, and the ship’s AI synced with her Ocunet. A woman’s monotone welcomed her from inside her helmet. The flight stick detached from the console, beckoning her gloved hand. She eagerly complied.
“Engage engines, Beatrix,” Tessa ordered, her Mamba shuddering before roaring to life.
“Excellent.” Tessa grinned, adrenaline pumping. “This is Venom-1, calling on all Mamba Fangs! Roll call!”
“Hey-o, Captain!” A raspy male voice shouted. “This is Venom-2, reporting for duty!”
Tessa gripped her flight stick, empowered by her number two’s enthusiasm. “Save some of that energy for the deep dark, Korban. We’re going to need it to light our way.”
“Or to light up our targets, Captain,” said a female’s deep voice. “Venom-3, reporting.”
“Glad to have you, Akintola.” Tessa listened and acknowledged the rest of twelve-person squadron reported before giving the order for liftoff.
“Listen up, Fangs! As you already know, this is not a drill. This shit is for real. You’ve all been briefed and understand what we’re up against. Black Dwarf is the scum of the underworld, and a bane all throughout the System. They are not to be taken lightly. We’re gonna go out there and secure that space station with zero casualties and come back home safe. Am I clear?”
Eleven voice answered in unison with: “Aye, Captain!”
Tessa scowled. “Don’t any of you dare disappoint me. You won’t like me when I’m angry.”
Laughter spread across the comm, and Tessa waited until it calmed. “This is the Venom Squadron, ladies. Act like it!” She paused for emphasis. “Now let’s give the admiral a good show.”
An explosion of emotion flooded the line, empowering the unified thunder of a dozen engines and thrusters as they increased power. One by one, twelve Mambas erupted from the launch bay of the Asterius and into the infinite midnight.
“Formation,” Tessa ordered.
A dozen ships merged into one giant triangle—a Fang, as the squadron preferred to call their particular Mambas—with Tessa at the front. Her Ocunet lenses showcased the expert maneuvering behind her, the perfect spacing between vessels. She expected no less. Beyond her canopy, she could see the focus of their mission: Black Dwarf.
Seeing the notorious crime syndicate out in the open was a surreal moment for Tessa. To some, Black Dwarf was a mythological entity, spreading its shadowy plague throughout the System while rarely being seen. Sparse intel was compiled on their organization, and no one was quite certain for whom they worked. Conspiracy theorists were always quick to associate them with Terracom—Cole included. Some considered the possibility they were fanatical religious zealots from Earth, though Tessa believed they were little more than the mob in space, working for themselves and the almighty unicred. Regardless of affiliation, Black Dwarf had reared its ugly, violent head, and they were about to endure an onslaught of Mamba strikes.
The Research space station appeared intact upon first glance, save for the docked escort and the cluster of burgundy-hulled fighters patrolling her. From the tactical readout on her display and the mounted weapons, Tessa could see that the escort was a full-fledged destroyer. Impressive as it was that Black Dwarf had managed to snag such a respectable ship, Tessa knew it wouldn’t last two minutes against a full-capacity Military dreadnought.
I wonder why they’re not evacuating, she thought. It’s not possible they didn’t pick us up on their radar. They couldn’t be that bold.
“Incoming fighters, Captain.”
“Roger that, Venom-2. I see them. Stay sharp.” A quick survey scan from her computer indicated the fighter’s weapons were hot. “Alright, boys and girls. Seems our mafioso friends wish to engage in interstellar combat. A poor decision on their part. It will be their first and final mistake. Starforce Command has given us the go-ahead to cut them down.” She gripped tight her flight stick. “Tactical formation. It’s time for us to sink our fangs.”
The squadron broke apart, reforming into three groups of four. Tessa was at the forefront of the action, eagerly anticipating bridging the distance between her and the oncoming targets. A detailed data readout of the fighters flashed in her view, and she frowned. “What the...?”
“Some kind of Frankenstein shit, Captain,” Korban said, reading her thoughts. “Looks like BD modified themselves some mark I Kobolds. It’s not a pretty look.”
“It’s not what’s on the outside that counts, Korban,” Tessa said. “Don’t you know anything about women?” She shook her head while trying to make sense of the bizarre modifications. The blood-red fighters appeared to be a hodgepodge of other ships, haphazardly fused to the hull. The Kobold-1s were long-since decommissioned from production due to their lack of maneuverability, and adding unnecessary bulk would only further encumbered them. It didn’t make any sense.
“Says the gorgeous, blonde hair, blue-eyed CAG who has the hearts of every man and women on this squadron.”
Tessa blushed. She was glad no one could see. “Stay focused, Venom-2.”
“Aye, Captain.”
“Captain, are you seeing this?”
It was the voice of Venom-7. Tessa didn’t like the concerned tone of the second-year pilot. The eight Black Dwarf fighters—or “Steiners,” as she would now call them, thanks to Korban—were flying erratically and spreading out. “I see it, Seven. Looks like they’re trying to break our formation. Stay the course, everyone. They’re almost upon us. Who knows what these scumbags are capable of.”
She soon found out.
Are they crazy? What sort of nukes are they carrying? “Don’t let these pricks through, Fangs. They may only be gnats buzzing around a horse, but only we are allowed to saddle up. Fire at will.”
At the same moment she spoke those last words, the “Steiners” enacted their plan. Their ships began falling apart. At least, that was the appearance of the scene unfolding in front of the Mambas. The excess bulk had detached from their hulls, leaving behind the more familiar, slender Kobold-1. The “jettisoned” bulk flew separate from their hosts, showcasing their own thrusters, engines, and direction. They had become decoys of some sort, flying directly for Tessa and her squadron.
“Evasive maneuvers!” she shouted, sensing these miniature hull drones were more than they seemed. What had been a favorable twelve-on-eight dogfight had quickly devolved and turned against them. The eight Steiners were now forty strong.
The Mambas fired their auto cannons, their formation falling apart as they desperately attempted to evade the barrage. One of the bulk drones was hit, and the resulting explosion was significant, incinerating everything in its vicinity...including a couple drones, a Steiner, and one of her squadron. Tessa’s eyes bulged, terror seiz
ing her. Kamikazes....
“They’re covered in nukes!” Akintola blurted over the comm. “They’ll kill us all!”
“Markom’s down!” Korban said, panic in his voice. “Captain!”
“Pull out, Fangs!” she ordered, knowing full well her decision would send the danger directly toward the Asterius. “Full evacuation!” She pulled hard on her flight stick and could only hope the others did as well. “We’ll have to take them out from behi—”
A brilliant flash of light and a powerful shockwave slammed Tessa’s head against the side of her canopy. Her world spun—or was it her ship? She shook off the pain, glad for her helmet. Multiple klaxons and sirens sounded, and red warning lights were flashing all over her Ocunet display. She nearly choked when she saw how many of her squadron were left. Three... That’s not possible.
Pieces of twisted and charred debris filled her view outside the cockpit. Familiar bits of black mixed with burgundy. It was almost too much.
Almost.
Gathering her wits, Tessa rerouted her ship back toward the fray—what was left of it. A sea of destruction stretched before her. It was like navigating through an asteroid field, but this one was littered with the shredded remnants of her comrades. Only after she set her sights on the remaining two Steiners pulling away from the graveyard did she hear Cole.
“Tessa! Can you hear me? Report!”
Amidst the flashing warnings and numerous sirens, a small screen had opened in the corner of her vision. She considered switching him off, thoughts of vengeance speaking more loudly to her, but her sense of duty was the steadier voice, and it was the only logical one.
“Reporting, Colonel.”
“Shit, Tessa, it’s good to hear from you.”
She found it impossible to find anything good at the moment. “Kamikaze fighters, Captain. We weren’t expecting—”
“Never mind any of that.”
Tessa scowled. “You asked for a report, Colonel. In case you didn’t notice, three quarters of my squadron perished—”
