“Uh… yeah, I’m fine Cassia,” she answered hoping her cheeks weren’t as red as they felt.
Jag cleared his throat and rolled off of Dani. The two of them quickly unclipped their tethers and began the climb back to the airlock in silence. Jag helped Dani climb in first before following. Once they were inside, she closed the exterior door, reengaging the artificial gravity before pumping air into the compartment. Dani opened the interior door and removed her helmet, shaking out her dark hair.
“Dani?”
She turned to face Jag, who had also removed his helmet. He looked nervous as his eyes caught hers and quickly looked away.
“Good job out there,” he spit out the words and seemed relieved after doing so.
Dani smiled at him, not wanting to push the matter, for both their sakes. “You too, Jag. Just another day in the office, right?”
“You know it,” Jag replied before adding, “Now let’s get this ship patched up so we can kick some Vaerian ass.”
“My sentiments exactly. GC chatter says they might be targeting PS683 next. I have a feeling they’re going to need our help.” Dani turned and hustled back to the bridge.
Once back in the familiar captain’s chair Dani ran through the systems checks. She entered the GCHQ coordinates into the system and announced to the ship, “Home is just one jump away. It won’t be long now.”
Author J.L Stowers
One of my fondest memories as a child is sitting on my grandmother’s doorstep with my great uncle and having him tell me all about space. That moment led to a lifelong obsession with the universe and an insatiable curiosity. Growing up in a small Idahoan town with not a lot to do required a lot of imagination. Outside was my playground and adventure blossomed everywhere I went, even if it was only in my head. The library was another of my havens and it was only a matter of time before I began developing my own ideas. To this day I have notebooks filled with questions and ideas that I still reference. That “What if” curiosity is still present, and now I explore my curiosity through my own writing. If you enjoyed my story here then I invite you into my universe. You can find the continuation of Captain Dani Devereaux’s adventures in the Ardent Redux Saga, available on Amazon (https://www.amazon.com/J.-L.-Stowers/e/B074D9KWN3).
Sycorax
By Jenetta Penner
An arrogant black market space trader, a broken down ship with an attitude, and a beautiful girl trapped on a deserted space station. What could go wrong? Probably everything.
If I didn’t know better, I’d swear the Tempest just coughed.
My hands fly over her controls, checking that the heading is still correct. The entire ship—who am I kidding? It’s basically a one-man space rowboat—rattles incessantly behind me, but if I get these goods to Taruk’s lair in the Letiri System by tomorrow, I can get her fixed. Again. And have plenty of credits left for me.
“Come on, old girl.”
“Ferek, if you call me an old girl again, my life support system may suddenly develop a malfunction.” Tempest’s flat, female voice comes from everywhere and nowhere.
I roll my eyes.
“I detected that,” Tempest says.
“Now Tempest, you know I couldn’t do anything without my best girl. Don’t get your thrusters all in a wad. If we don’t deliver this load in time—”
“I am acutely aware of your need to arrive in the Letiri System by 1600 hours tomorrow.”
“And you know if we don’t get there it’s…” I raise my finger and swipe it across my neck in a slicing motion.
“Tardiness is your issue, not mine. In the case of vehicle confiscation, I’ll simply be auctioned off to a new owner. One which may keep me in better working order.”
“Or sell you off for par—”
Clunk.
The Tempest reverberates and lets out a high-pitched whine, settling into a slow glide. I fly out of my seat to manually check the ship propulsion function.
“What’s going on?” I yell, slamming my hand to the console. “Did you break the hyperdrive on purpose?”
“Disabling myself would be a poor choice,” Tempest says without a hint of concern.
“Then get busy performing a scan!”
Stupid fifty-year-old, stolen, junkyard salvage ship. I read through the diagnostics Tempest feeds me. The propulsion system crapped out again. A vision of my head being served on a platter to Taruk’s new favorite beast hijacks my brain. The last one was aqua blue with stripes and teeth…
“Ferek? Ferek?” Tempest’s voice snaps me out of my nightmare.
“What?!” I yell.
“We are currently on approach to a small moon.”
“Moon? There shouldn’t be a planet, let alone a moon in this area.” I race back to the pilot seat and engage the viewscreen.
A white orb. And there, behind it, a reddish planet swirled with orange and yellow gases..
I stare at the large bluish craters on the moon. “Where are we?”
“Analyzing the system’s charts. So far unknown.”
A beep emits from the viewer.
“Incoming communication,” Tempest says.
Ignoring her and cursing under my breath, I ask, “How could it be unknown?”
“Do not use that word or I will discontinue the scan.”
The beep sounds again.
With a grunt of disgust, I throw my hands into the air. “Just play the comm. Maybe that will tell us something.”
The screen flickers on, revealing a man my grandfather's age. White hair, a little jowly around the mouth.
“Oh, hello,” he says. “My name is Proden. I see you are in distress.”
I look around. “You could say that.”
“We would love to be of assistance,” Proden says, his lips turning up into a smile, revealing a set of perfect white teeth.
“Stars, that would be a lot of help. I have someplace I need to be.” As I say it, a massive, round, silver and blue space station orbits around the moon toward us.
“It’s my pleasure. Currently, the Sycorax station has lost its long-range communications. But on board, we have the means to repair a small craft such as yours. Perhaps if you were to return the news of our plight and send someone to help us, Captain—?”
“Ferek. Just Ferek.”
“Don’t forget me,” Tempest demands.
“Oh, and my ship’s AI system, Tempest. And yeah, sure. I’d be glad to deliver your coordinates and send someone to help.” I have no idea if anyone will come, but I have somewhere to be, and this could be my ticket to getting there. On time and not with my head ending up on a platter soon after I arrive.
The old man smiles again. “We will bring you aboard momentarily.”
The screen flickers and Proden’s image disappears. The metal of Tempest’s hull shakes and moans as a tracking beam locks onto us. Without a second to waste, she begins to descend into the belly of the Sycorax.
“Well, that was a stroke of luck.” I lean back in my seat, running my hand through my hair. Wish I had time for a trim before I meet my new best friends.
"You may make your rendezvous on time after all,” Tempest drones.
***
I straighten my shirt, tucking the back into my pants as Tempest’s metal hatch flies open, revealing a spacious and sterile-white bay. Proden wears an equally white robe that hangs down to his feet and gold rings on three of his fingers. Floating next to him is a metallic, semi-humanoid AI unit. It’s essentially a hovering torso and head with two sets of arms and pincher hands at the end of its limbs.
“Greetings, Captain Ferek,” Proden says.
Not sure some eighteen-year-old black-market trader in a flying sardine can with a sawn-off IDN can truly be called a captain, but I’m gonna roll with it. I straighten my shoulders, thumb for the blaster on my hip, and walk directly to him, hand extended. Might as well throw on a pearly white smile, too.
Proden takes my hand in a firm grip, nods, and releases me. “Welcome to the Sycora
x. It’s been some time since we’ve entertained guests.”
“You know, I can’t stay long—”
“Oh, no, of course not.” He flicks his gaze from me to the AI beside him. “Ariel, would you please begin the repairs immediately? Captain Ferek has somewhere to be.”
A blue, glowing sensor on the AI—Ariel—blinks to life. “Yes, Proden.” It hovers toward the Tempest and then out of sight around her.
Proden places a hand on my shoulder and motions toward the bay exit. As he does, the door dilates and slurps away, revealing a petite girl with long blonde hair falling over her shoulders like ocean waves. Her sky-blue dress billows around her feet as she walks toward us. My heart catches in my throat. Since when do I use a word like billow?
“This is my daughter,” Proden says.
I barely hear him. I’m too busy planning our evening. “Huh?” is the best I can muster.
“I am Miranda.” She presents a dainty, perfect hand to me. “Proden’s daughter.”
I stand there like a dummy until my brain clears. I take Miranda's hand and it’s the softest skin I’ve ever felt. Like silk. “Capt…. Ferek. My name is Ferek.”
Her lips turn up at the corners. “Nice to meet you, Ferek.”
Again, I’m left standing here like a dummy, staring at the way her golden hair falls over her swan-like neck.
Swan like? What am I thinking?
I close my gaping mouth. Are the oxygen levels on this station lower?
“Yes,” I choke out at last and release her hand.
“Why don’t we allow Ariel some time to repair your ship?” Proden offers. “Would you enjoy a tour, Captain Ferek?”
My head spins again, but I shake it off. “Sure. It would be a good idea to stretch my legs. Been on board too long.”
Proden guides us out into the station corridor, long halls branching off and appearing to go nowhere.
“Where’s the crew?” I ask Proden. Miranda leans her head forward and flashes me a shy smile. A flush travels up my cheeks
“No crew, young man,” Proden says, the hem of his robe catching the floor as we walk the hall. “This station maintains itself with very little human effort.”
“Hmm, must be lonely.”
Proden offers his arm to Miranda and she gingerly takes it. “We have each other, right, my dear?
“Yes, Father.” Miranda nearly sings. The sound of her voice sends electricity up my spine. If only I could speak with her alone. Hold her. Put my hands where they don’t belong...
Proden clamps a ringed hand on my shoulder, snapping me from my fantasy. “Young Captain, an old man is not a good companion for two healthy young people. My dear daughter never has the opportunity to converse with someone of her own age. What must you be? Seventeen, eighteen?”
“Eighteen,” I choke out, my heart racing like a contestant in a Xotander mule race.
“Perfect. Miranda is seventeen.” He chuckles and lightly pushes the two of us together in front of him.
What father actually wants his teenage daughter to spend time with a love-struck—
Love-struck? Where did that come from?
Miranda slips her arm in the crook of mine and my mind instantly settles.
Proden’s muffled voice falls away behind us, calling, “You two have fun!”
“We have a garden on board,” Miranda coos. “Would you enjoy a visit?”
“Not much of a flower type of gu—” I start to reply until I glance at her. I dive into the galaxy of her eyes. “Sure, I love flowers.”
Miranda leads us down several never-ending halls before we finally stop at a door. It dilates, and the scent of roses wafts into the corridor, making my brain spin. Giggling, Miranda clasps my hand and pulls me into the garden.
Above us, any indication we’re inside a space station is gone. Two projected moons shine brightly down from a starry sky, illuminating a garden stretching as far as the eye can see.
Miranda releases my hand and skips toward a rose bush, plucking off a large yellow bloom. She turns to me, smiling, and slips the flower behind her ear.
“What do you think?”
“You’re… um, it’s beautiful.” Heat radiates up the back of my neck.
She strides up to me and places her arms around my neck. “Really? You think so?”
I clear my throat. My hands have the urge, as if on their own, to wrap around her waist, pull her in… and…
Wait. I barely know this girl. I need to get my cargo to Taruk before he blows his top…
And she’s off again, flying down a path I didn’t notice until now.
I slap the comm on my wrist. “Tempest?”
“Yes, Ferek?” Tempest’s voice sounds tinny through the speaker.
“How’s it going?”
“I assume you are not speaking of my contentedness and are instead inquiring of the repair? If so, Ariel is performing a satisfactory job of overhauling the propulsion system. We are on track to leave by 1300 hours.”
I sigh in relief. “Ok, thanks. Ferek out.”
“Goodbye, dear.”
I stare at the comm, wide-eyed and unsure if I want to respond to that.
“Ferek,” Miranda calls.
She’s sitting on a blanket under a tree now, the yellow flower gone from her hair, surrounded by plates of cheese, fruit, meats, and two huge slices of what looks like chocolate cake. I practically run to join her.
“Are you hungry?” She pats a spot next to her on the blanket.
I've got no clue where this feast came from, but the memories of the last week’s bland ration packs spins through my mind. As if on cue, my stomach lets out a grumble.
She reaches out to me, and without a second thought, I take her hand and allow her to pull me gently onto the blanket. She plucks a strawberry from a plate and holds it to my mouth. I flick my gaze to her, then bite into the juicy, tart fruit.
“I haven’t had strawberries in forever. Too expensive,” I mumble while still chewing.
“We have whatever we like here. Replicator system.” Miranda tips her head and gives a close-lipped smile. “Is there anything else you might enjoy?”
Just you.
My eyes grow wide. Did I say that out loud?
“No. No, this is great.” I scan over all the foods, eyeing the cake again. I scoot back and lean against the rough trunk of the tree. Somehow, throughout our meal, I avoid saying anything stupid or crazy out loud. When I’m finally stuffed, I check the time.
“You should not have long to wait,” she says.
“No.” I rest my head against the tree, drowsy from a belly full of food. More than I’ve had in weeks. My eyelids sink shut.
“Ferek?”
My lids pop open. Miranda, now dressed in a shiny pink gown, giggles as she grabs my hand and pulls me down a green hill toward a gigantic house.
Where am I?
My mind spirals, trying to figure out how we got here. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the tall structure was out of some old fairy tale story. One my sister would always plunk me down and force me to listen to when I was five or so. Overhead, an oblong cruiser zips through the air. At least we aren’t back in time a thousand years.
Miranda slows her pace, spins toward me, and throws her arms around my shoulders. A smile overtakes her lips, making me melt, and before I completely disappear into a puddle, she pulls me into a deep kiss.
Who cares where we are.
I snake my arms around her waist and tug her close to my body, my hands sliding from her thin waist to her—
She yanks back and smacks me on the arm, her lips twisting into a coy smile. “Silly, Ferek. What if the children see?”
I jump back from her and cough. Children?
My eyes shoot open and I gasp for breath. The artificial moons hang above us. Miranda, back in the blue dress,, stares at me with a sweet, calm expression.
“Did you enjoy your nap?”
I glance around to the moonlit trees and grass and rub my
sweaty hands over my pants. “Um, yeah.”
All the dishes have been cleared. Only the blanket remains.
“We didn’t...uh...”
Miranda rises and offers me her hand. “Did not what?”
I take it and stand. “Nothing, it was a dream.”
“A nice one, I hope.” She strolls back the way we came, and I follow, gazing at her. It’s as if she’s somehow has grown more beautiful. Skin smoother. Eyes brighter. Lips.... her lips…
She grabs my arm, pulling me in close. “Can you maintain a secret?”
“Yes?”
“Good.” The door to the garden slurps open, and she pilots me into the corridor. “I have another place to show you, then.”
After walking for about five minutes, she activates a new door, which opens to a large empty room. The outer wall and dome ceiling are transparent. Below us is the red planet, and off to the side, its moon. Open black space, speckled with stars, waits above.
Miranda leads me to the center of the room. The door closes behind us. “I come here to think.” She raises her hands above her head and spins. “It is my favorite place on the station.”
“How come?”
She slows to a stop and sadness washes over her face. “Because I dream about my home.”
Everything in me wants to reach out to her, comfort her, but we just met. I hold back. “Tell me about it.”
Miranda waves her hand and two circles on the floor dilate. From inside, two seats rise, and with a click, move into a slightly reclined position. She gestures toward one of the chairs and I sit. She does the same.
“I was not born on the Sycorax, you know. Father and I lived on a planet called...” She pauses, and her face takes on a quizzical look. “Let us call the planet, Plenty, because ‘plenty’ describes it perfectly. The correct name is difficult to say in your tongue.”
“Why did you leave?”
A tiny crease forms between Miranda’s perfect brows, but it somehow doesn’t spoil her beauty. “We were forced.”
“Forced?” I sit upright, unexplained anger burning in my chest.
“Yes, forced. Twelve years ago, we were banished by my uncle.”
“Why would he do that?” Taruk crosses my mind. Someone who’s cruel and feeds people to his dogs if he doesn’t like their face that day.
The Expanding Universe 4: Space Adventure, Alien Contact, & Military Science Fiction (Science Fiction Anthology) Page 43
