by T. M. Catron
She jerked her head toward the Streaker. “Ready to get crazy?”
“You mean we’re not already there? I don’t know how much more excitement I can take.”
“James,” she called. “Hold the Streaker steady. And keep it out of range of those pirates.”
“Copy, Captain.”
Rance crouched low, looking at the ship. “I’ll race you,” she said.
Then, she pushed off into the void, aiming for the Star Streaker.
The journey to the cruiser was the longest of Rance’s life. It had looked close, but without anything to measure the distance against, she realized just how far away the Streaker really was. More rifle fire followed them, but they were far enough away that it went wide.
“We’re drifting off course, Captain,” Solaris said. He floated beside her, looking behind them to make sure Kaur wasn’t following. Distantly, another Scorpion disentangled itself from the pack and headed their way. Kaur wasn’t going to let them go.
“James? We might need a little help getting to you. You see us?”
“I see you. I see that fighter too.”
The Star Streaker maneuvered around in front of Rance and Solaris. They landed on the hull with a plunk. Solaris bounced off again, but Rance grabbed him while engaging her boots with a satisfying click. Once connected, they walked along the hull to the one-person airlock. The Streaker didn’t wait for them to get inside before darting away from the station.
“Captain, we’ve got company.”
“The airlock takes almost ten minutes to cycle air, James!”
“It’s already cycled out. You’ll have to cram in together. We don’t have anything like that much time.”
Alarmed, Rance and Solaris opened the door and pushed in. It was a tight squeeze. With their suits, they had to hug each other just to clear the door. It hissed shut. The minute it did, the ship’s gravity grabbed them both, jarring them with a disorienting shock. The light was still red, meaning they had to wait to open the door into the cargo hold.
Rance's ZOD flickered to life. “Great timing,” she said dryly.
She logged into the ship’s network and called up all displays in the cockpit. Their situation didn’t look promising. One Scorpion followed them, firing whenever it locked on. Each hit shook the Streaker's shields, degrading them a little more. Two Unity Dark Fighters followed the Scorpion, firing on it, distracting the pirate from obliterating the Star Streaker as she sought an opening to jump to hyperspace.
The ship tossed Rance and Solaris around violently. Fortunately, they were packed in too tightly to get too bruised. Once, Rance fell against the door and glimpsed Abel, their security officer, strapped into his crash chair in the hold.
Then, they were tossed against the opposite wall like cargo that wasn’t strapped down. Solaris watched Rance with worried eyes, and Rance imagined the same look was on her own face.
An alarm beeped, and the door opened. Once Rance had gained her balance, she ran for the stairs. Her hand had just hit the railing when she heard Harper give James the hyperspace coordinates. Then, the shaking stopped, and the ship grew silent.
They’d jumped into hyperspace. They’d made it.
Later, the crew sat around the small galley after dinner, celebrating their near miss. Since Rance didn’t allow drinking aboard the Streaker, they had some of Harper’s favorite tea. Solaris had hot chocolate.
The atmosphere soon changed from celebratory to troubling. No one had any idea what the pirates had been doing at Waystation 11, nor why Kaur himself had arrived.
“Maybe they knew Unity would be there,” Tally mused.
He sat at Rance’s right elbow, as always. His green alien eyes shone in the galley, the brightest part of his dark, scaly body. Harper and James sat on the other side of the table. Harper with her tiny hands, and James with his messy hair. Solaris sat next to Harper, directly across from Rance, his face now tired and drawn. It had often looked that way lately.
“Everything adds to a pirate war, doesn’t it?” Abel asked, leaning his bulky frame against the counter.
“Yes,” Rance said. “Why does Kaur want to challenge the Empire?”
“Here’s a more disturbing question,” Solaris said, “what are the odds of running into two pirate invasions in the span of a few weeks?”
“If they are isolated events,” Harper said, “small chance. Unless there are a whole bunch of raids we don’t about. Except those were rebels on Prometheus, not pirates.”
“Is the Empire keeping these attacks from the public?”
“It’s possible for a short time.”
“That also means there are many more pirates and rebels we don’t know about.”
Everyone grew silent.
Solaris wouldn’t meet Rance’s eyes. She wondered why. Was it because he had expressed a possible return to the Galaxy Wizards even if it meant punishment for deserting? Would he go now that the Empire seemed to be in a crisis? Did he know something more about the increased pirate activity?
Rance wanted to tell Solaris to stay. At the same time, she was confused by her own wish. If the galaxy were in danger of being overrun by pirates, shouldn’t they all do their part to help?
What did that mean for her? Her father would be at the forefront of events. He wasn't a military strategist, but he had consolidated enough power that he would be involved in decision-making at the Senate level. Would he give up looking for her?
Rance hoped so. But she wasn’t going to hold her breath.
Persephone Evasion
Star Streaker Book 3
Persephone Evasion is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
2018 Antimatter Books
Copyright © 2018 T.M. Catron
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author.
www.tmcatron.com
Book/Cover design by Dark Matter Book Covers
Star Streaker ship design by Allen Grippin
Phoenix Prime Logo used with permission.
License Note:
Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from Amazon. Thank you for your support.
Please leave a review after reading!
Chapter One
Tribune 5760c—a dwarf planet orbiting a dwarf star in the far reaches of the Empire Triton. The small, frigid planet was home to a small, frigid population of humans and aliens. The thin atmosphere and constant nighttime were a perfect cover for smugglers, pirates, or anyone wanting to avoid the Empire but remain within its bounds.
Tribune 5760c was on the outermost edge of everything. Beyond the Nilurian Belt where Rebels lay in wait. Days of hyperspace past the last of the Outer Colonies. Tribune was the very last stop before entering the uncharted void of the alien civilizations, the wanderers, and the lost.
“Weeks from anywhere,” pilot James Fletcher was saying, “and yet they expect us to believe they are selling authentic Zeus Corp Ghosts?”
“I don’t think it’s a stretch,” Captain Rance Cooper said. “Considering the cargo we just dropped off, I wouldn’t be surprised if this rock had all the latest tech tucked away somewhere.”
“For those willing to pay,” James said skeptically.
They stood within a dark, dingy store of the old-fashioned mercantile variety. The merchant sold an eclectic assortment of products, from basics like flour, sugar, and protein powder to advanced tech such as the device Rance was considering. Like the rest of the planet, the store smelled of dust and stale air.
James picked
up a small earpiece from the table and examined it. It looked like a tiny squid with long arms attached at the end of a narrow body. More like a virus, Rance thought.
“I will pretend as if you didn’t just insult me,” the seller told James. The merchant was a thin, gangly man with pale skin that was almost transparent—the result of spending his life on a planet that barely saw sunlight. “And I will explain once again that I have a reputable supplier who brings me shipments twice every Earth year.”
“If it’s so authentic,” James said, “where is the serial number?”
“It’s embedded within the Ghost. Zeus Corp stopped putting them on the outside years ago.”
“It’s true,” Rance admitted. “My ZOD didn’t have one on the outside.” She referred to the Zeus Corp Optical Display implanted in her eye.
Rance had wanted ear tech for ages. Sleek, implantable devices were all the rage to those who could afford them. The one in the captain’s eye had proven to be indispensable on multiple occasions. She’d owned it for years—a leftover perk from her life pre-Star Streaker. A reminder of Rance’s privileged upbringing, and one reminder she didn’t mind keeping. Implanting Zeus tech in her ear would eliminate using a handset comm altogether if she wanted to. It would wirelessly interface with the Neural Network Relay already implanted in her spine and work seamlessly for communication.
The seller sensed Rance’s hesitation, her wavering. He scented the sale. She and James had only stopped in to see what was available. The other crew members waited for them at the ship. Much as she would have liked to, the captain couldn’t afford to outfit the whole crew with Ghosts. But then, they earned what she did. If they wanted to save their money to buy one, they could.
With this thought, Rance’s finger twitched, an involuntary wiggle as if it were reaching for the shiny new tech.
The seller saw the movement and pounced. He grabbed the earpiece from James and put it in Rance’s hand with his cold, leathery fingers.
Rance had just talked herself into giving him the money when her old comm made a beeping noise. She placed the Ghost on the table and walked to the door.
Her security officer’s face popped onto the screen. Despite the subzero temperature outside, beads of sweat ran down his cheek and trailed over the blue tattoos on his neck. Behind him, a rocky landscape bounced up and down in a jerky fashion.
“Captain,” Abel said with a short breath.
“Abel, why are you running?”
“I think it’s time to go.”
“This price won’t last long!” the seller called from behind her.
“She’s not paying that price, either,” James said with a huff.
“Abel,” Rance said, waving away the distraction. “What’s going on?”
The sound of a laser rifle came from the handset. Abel hit the ground, and a cloud of dust obscured the screen.
“Abel!” Rance cried.
James ran up behind Rance, who already had a hand on the door handle.
“Hey!” the seller called, clearly irritated. “You walk out that door, and the price doubles—”
But Rance didn’t hear anything else. She had twisted the handle and bolted through the door. A blast of icy air hit her face, reminding her of the mask attached to her belt. “Abel!” she said to the comm.
“There he is!” James said, pointing to their right.
Abel ran past, waving frantically for them to join him. His feet kicked up clouds of gray dust as he ran toward the small spaceport’s landing pad. Rance glimpsed several wiry, long-legged creatures running toward Abel, and pulled her stunner. Without asking more questions, she and James took off after their crew member.
They raced through the streets, cold air whipping their faces until they were raw. More blasts shot past them just as Rance ducked left down a side street after Abel. James followed, but now they weren’t sure which direction their friend had gone. Round lights illuminated the street with pools of yellow. Dust swirled through the air, covering the pavement, choking those who dared to walk without a mask.Rance’s ZOD didn’t pull up a map on this planet, which didn’t have a public network.
“This way!” Abel called from ahead. He turned right and disappeared around another corner. More blasts obliterated the concrete walls to Rance’s right. She ducked as dust and stone rained down on her and James. James squeaked and pulled Rance left. The captain would have teased him about the noise, but she was too busy keeping her head on her shoulders. Pointing her stunner behind her, Rance shot back without aiming.
Her shots didn’t faze their pursuers, and five shapes emerged from the dust—broad-chested, armor-plated aliens with ridges on their shoulders. Fangs and claws rounded out the terrifying image, and Rance shrank back against the wall.
The aliens leaped toward Rance and James. Rance fired again, this time aiming for a light above. The stunner’s beam exploded the plastic orb into a shower of sparks that fell directly on the aliens. It didn’t hurt them but disoriented them enough for Rance and James to follow Abel.
When they turned the corner, the low metal buildings surrounding the spaceport were directly ahead. Beyond, a control tower stood upon a rocky hill, its light blinking like a welcome beacon.
“Tally!” Rance yelled into her handset. “Open the ship!”
They sprinted down the street, ducking into doorways whenever they could to look behind them. The aliens didn’t follow.
“Where are they?” Rance asked, more afraid now than when her enemies were shooting. “Did they give up?”
“I doubt it,” James said, huffing. “Those weren’t rubber bullets.”
When they reached the dusty landing pad, the bronze Star Streaker glimmered dully beside clunky freighters and heaps of scrap. Beside the Streaker sat a sleek but strange spacecraft—a fighter shaped like a fan with long arms extending forward. It looked like it had been grown from some black tar rather than put together with metal.
“That wasn’t here when we landed,” James said.
“No. Is it an organic ship?” Rance had heard of them but never seen one. The only shipbuilders who grew them were aliens. Since the Empire wasn’t on friendly terms with most alien races, organic ships were rare within its territories.
Another bright blast shot past Rance’s head, causing her ear to sting with a fresh burn. She ducked and kept running. The aliens had come out onto the landing pad from the other side.
“They’re going to cut us off from the ship!” James yelled.
He and Rance zigzagged all the way to the Streaker, ducking behind scrap heaps and ships as needed. Thankfully, Abel was already inside and prepared for action. He had grabbed a pulsing laser rifle of his own and was firing it from within the hold. It forced the aliens to take cover, allowing Rance and James to reach the ship in safety.
With a jump, Rance landed inside the cargo bay. James landed beside her, and Abel covered the opening while Tally closed the ramp.
Stray fire entered the bay, bouncing off the far wall and leaving scorch marks in the bulkheads.
“Stop shooting at my ship!” Rance yelled. She rolled to the side and stood just as the hold doors closed. The Star Streaker was solid, but small pings continued as they fired at the hull. Rance rounded on Abel. “Explain!”
“It was innocent, Captain. I swear.”
“Captain,” Harper called using the ship-wide comm. “They just entered the fighter. It’s rolling toward us.”
“Is it armed?” Rance asked even though she guessed the answer.
“To the teeth.”
That was bad. The Star Streaker had shields, no weapons.
James sprinted for the cockpit.
“Is everyone accounted for?” Rance asked.
“Yes, Captain, everyone present,” Solaris said over the comm. “We can leave as soon as you’re ready.”
Rance took the stairs two at a time. “Abel, you can explain while we get out of here,” she called over her shoulder.
Upstairs, Rance cramme
d herself into the captain’s chair and pulled the flight screens toward her. James and Solaris were buckled into their seats. The Streaker was fast. As long as they got her safely out of Tribune’s atmosphere, they wouldn’t have a problem getting into hyperspace to avoid more trouble.
A shock wave hit the ship so hard that it bounced sideways. The ground tilted, and they all leaned right as the alien fighter fired on them from the ground.
“Shields!” she yelled.
James was already working, and in a moment the shields were up. He engaged the thrusters, and then the Streaker was in the air preparing to exit Tribune’s gravitational pull.
“Everyone okay?” Rance asked.
Tally, Abel, and Harper all answered. They were strapped in, ready to go.
“Uh, Captain,” Solaris said.
“I see it,” Rance said grimly. The fighter was so close on their tail that it risked a collision. It fired again, and the Star Streaker shuddered as its shields absorbed the impact. “What in Triton are they doing?” Rance asked. “If we jump to hyperspace like this, we’ll blow them straight back into the planet.”
“Maybe they are counting on us behaving nicely,” Solaris said.
“We don’t behave nicely,” Rance said.
James snorted. “You are the nicest captain I’ve ever met.”
“Except when she’s mothering us,” Solaris added.
“Or yelling at us,” James said.
“Or making us do the laundry.”
“Guys,” Rance interrupted, “maybe we should concentrate on shaking those aliens off our butts? Besides, if I didn’t make you do your laundry, the ship would smell like a locker room.”
“I vote we all start doing our own laundry from now on,” Solaris said.
“I only do my own,” James said, half-turning to Solaris. “Whose laundry are you doing besides yours?”
