by J G Cressey
“You got that right,” Becker mumbled in agreement. “What about the four of us?” she asked after a moment. “What do you think we can expect?” Her tone was tentative, as if afraid to hear the answer.
Cal knew exactly what she was asking. When a team lost a member, or even two, they were promptly replaced. But to lose six…it was entirely possible they’d be disbanded and absorbed separately into other teams. Cal turned to look at her. “To be honest, I really don’t know. I’m afraid it’s possible they’ll break us up.” Now perhaps wasn’t the best time to give her bad news, but she’d asked, and he couldn’t keep the truth from her.
Becker wordlessly reacted to his answer by heaving her right leg up and yanking off her thigh protector. Allowing the piece of armor to clatter to the floor, she threw the leg back down and sat quietly.
Cal turned to his right. Franco was already asleep a couple of seats down, and beyond him, Poots was being attended to by the rescue team’s medic. On the other side of the cabin, Ebner and Campbell were both horizontal, strapped down, and fully sedated. Christie was sitting between them, awake but staring at nothing, face still and pale as a ghost.
“You ever get the feeling you have absolutely no control over your life?” Becker asked after a time. “Just getting bounced around like a bug in a storm.”
“All the bloody time,” Cal replied, and he meant it.
Becker sighed and lethargically tugged at the armor on her other leg. “I guess it’s our choice to be in the storm in the first place.”
“I guess so.”
Succeeding in freeing her left thigh, Becker leaned forward and turned to look at him as if she’d suddenly plucked a thought out of his head. “You’re thinking of getting out of the storm, aren’t you?”
Cal shrugged. “Maybe,” he said, deciding there was no point trying to hide this from her either.
“Because of this mission?”
Cal gave her a melancholic smile. “I know what you’re going to say, Sergeant, that death is part of the job, that you can’t always make the right decisions or give the right orders all of the time.”
Becker raised an eyebrow. “It may be cliché, but it doesn’t make it any less true. You told me yourself that it’s impossible to protect everyone.”
“That’s true,” Cal agreed with a nod. “But it’s not that I can’t accept it or that I doubt my ability to lead. I just don’t know whether I want to. I’m not sure if I want an entire lifetime of having to endure those inevitable consequences.” If he were to stretch his honesty a little further, he might have told her that his faith in the military’s motivations had also started to crack.
Becker looked disappointed but nodded understandingly and settled back in her seat.
“It’s far from a definite decision,” Cal admitted. “I know it wouldn’t be an easy thing, starting a new life from scratch. I mean, what the hell would I do with myself?”
“You’d just end up finding yourself another storm,” Becker replied with a smirk. “Probably an even bigger one.”
Cal smiled at that, and deep down, he suspected she was probably right.
“Just do me a favor, will you, boss?”
Cal rustled up enough energy to lean forward and look her in the eye. “Of course.”
“Just make sure to remember all the lives saved as well as those lost.”
Cal nodded. “I will,” he said sincerely.
Settling back in his seat, Cal sunk his head deep into the smart-gel, closed his eyes, and tried his best to quiet his mind. It wasn’t easy, but for a while, he achieved a state that could almost be considered restful. When he finally roused himself, he noticed that Christie was looking directly at him. The girl still looked as pale and fragile as ever, but perhaps for the first time since meeting her, she seemed fully aware of his presence. Then, she smiled at him. The gesture was small and gentle, but it held real power and seemed to sweep through him like some sort of miracle elixir, instantly dimming a great deal of his pain, physical and emotional.
The smile said a lot, but mostly, Cal suspected it was a simple thank you. She was glad to be alive.
Cal didn’t blame her one bit.
I hope you enjoyed Harper’s Ten, the prequel to the Fractured Space Series. Read on for the first chapter of Star Splinter, book 1 of the Fractured Space Series…
Star Splinter
Fractured Space Book 1
Chapter One
GUILT AND REGRET
Lieutenant Callum Harper felt no satisfaction from the punch. He watched grimly as the big man stumbled back across the office, his arms flailing like some sort of faulty windup toy before a collision with a hefty metal desk bounced him face first to the floor. The man lay still, seemingly out cold. Cal cursed. Violence had never been his intention, but now that the time had come, he’d found it impossible to hold back. In truth, he was surprised it hadn’t happened sooner. Patiently, he waited for the man to come to. It started with a confused shifting, which before long turned into a clumsy panic. The man was bordering on obesity, and getting to his hands and knees was proving a struggle. Then there was something close to a whimper as he caught sight of his tooth set neatly in a little pool of blood beneath him.
Oh bloody hell. Cal felt his jaw tighten as well has his fist. He could take raging expletives, violence, or even arrogance and spite, but not self-pity and blubbing. There was no way he could put up with the man crying, not this man. He’d just have to knock him out again. Fortunately, the tears didn’t materialize, and Cal relaxed his fist.
The floored man was Captain Laurence Decker, someone whom, to Cal’s utter bewilderment, had been deemed worthy of commanding a Class One Military Starship. Even more confusing was the fact that he was the son of the highly revered Admiral James Decker, a man who’d worked his way up the ranks with unrivaled determination, wit, and charm. How the hell could such a great military leader have produced a son who fell so short of the mark? The only logical explanation was that the Admiral's greatness simply didn't stretch to his parenting skills. There were, after all, plenty of rumors to back that up, talk of inflated grades at the Admiral’s hand and echoes of disgust relating to his son's absurd leapfrog from academy to starship command. Cal had started military training shortly after Laurence Decker had graduated, but the rumors had lingered on. He had even heard talk of a discreet bodyguard being hired in the early years to deal with bullies.
Laurence Decker had more than a few bodyguards now, and they were far from discreet. The sound of multiple cutting lasers on the other side of the sealed office door pulled Cal away from his thoughts, and he briefly turned to the sound. “It seems your guards are finally coming to your rescue, Decker. But they won’t be getting through that door seal anytime soon.”
Decker didn’t react to the words; he was still staring at his front tooth, seemingly struggling to come to terms with the fact that it was no longer in his mouth.
“Stand up and face me, Decker.”
As if trying to prevent any more teeth from spilling out, Decker placed a hand over his mouth and finally looked up at his attacker. There was unmistakable fear in that look, fear that this man who’d punched his tooth out might not be finished with him. Cal had never considered himself a particularly imposing man, and the level of the Decker's dread took him by surprise.
Good, let the bastard be scared.
Clumsily, Decker shifted back against the same desk that he'd recently bounced off, his eyes darting wildly about the office no doubt in search of an escape from his nightmare. But there was no escape. Not unless you counted the exterior viewing panel, which, even if he could break through it, would make for a rather messy, unceremonious exit out into the cold vacuum of deep space. There was only one exit, and Cal had activated the door's heavy duty punch locks and placed himself between that exit and the captain.
“Are you going to stand up and face me, or am I going to have to come over there and haul you up?” Cal hoped for the former. He didn’t relish
the idea of lifting that much weight.
Leaning back against the desk to steady himself, Decker managed to struggle to his feet. “Anything you want. I'll give you anything, just name it.”
Here we go. “Let's dispense with the begging and bribing,” Cal replied evenly. “You know why I'm here.” Why the hell am I here? Would pounding his fist into this man really do any good?
“Open that door, Lieutenant. Open it now, and your career will remain intact.” The shaking in Decker’s voice drowned out any inkling of authority it might once have contained.
“My career ended when I failed to stop you sending good soldiers on yet another suicide mission.” I’m here to try and knock some sense into you, you useless bastard.
“But I had no choice,” Decker reasoned weakly. “I had to send at least one squad in. The pirates—”
“They weren’t the threat. You're a weak, dim-witted fool, Decker, but even you should have seen that.”
“You're wrong… There were orders… I—”
“Shut your damn mouth,” Cal shouted more in frustration than anger. All he wanted was to get through to the man. He wanted him to realize what a fool he was. He wanted him to realize the weight that his command carried and the cost of his foolishness. He also wanted to punch him again. “The order came from you. You know it, and I know it.” The lazy bastard probably hadn’t even read the mission brief. “I can’t let you do it again, Decker.”
Decker didn't reply. He gripped the desk behind him and shot nervous glances between Cal, the exit, and the exit's locking mechanism. Cal could still hear the guards battling furiously with the sealed door, but he wasn't concerned. There was still time. He stared at Decker, reading the man like a book. The pathetic excuse for a captain had tried begging, making excuses for his actions, and of course pulling rank. They'd all failed, and now, Cal saw a level of desperation that suggested a last ditch effort at physical action. It seemed that apologizing and admitting his guilt would never occur to such a man.
“Don’t bother—” Cal began, but the captain was already launching his ample weight forward.
Swiftly, Cal twisted aside, easily tripping the man and once again setting the arms flailing. Decker’s journey was a short one that ended abruptly as his head connected with the rear wall.
Cal rubbed his face and eyes. What the hell was he doing? He’d never get through to a man like this, not with fists and certainly not with words. Stepping towards the crumpled captain, he was amazed to see that he’d somehow remained conscious. Reaching down, he clamped a fist around his collar and dragged him up onto his knees.
Decker pawed at the fist with weakened fingers. “I'm sorry… I'm sorry they died.” The words were quiet but clear.
Cal paused, not quite trusting his ears. He stared into the man's terrified eyes, searching for some sincerity, some truth. Releasing his grip, he allowed the captain to slump to the floor. “Is there none of your father in you?” he asked, his brow creased in frustration.
After a few moments of silence, Cal shook his head and turned away. Maybe it hadn’t been a complete waste. Maybe something had made it through. “You can take this as my resignation,” he said as he walked slowly over to the office door and activated its release mechanism. The military would have to do without him from now on. He’d had enough of foolish orders and bullshit missions. He’d had enough of men like Captain Laurence Decker. And he’d had enough of being responsible for people. From now on, he’d be responsible for himself and leave it at that. No more taking orders, no more giving orders, and no more responsibility. With that in mind, Cal almost smiled as Captain Decker's guards burst in and surrounded him with pulse rifles raised.
“What d’you want done with him, sir?” asked the guard who had taken up position directly in front of Cal. His voice was aggressive, and the muzzle of his weapon was practically touching his nose.
Suddenly feeling much calmer, Cal looked down at the crumpled man.
Remaining on the floor, Decker took a few moments before answering. “Earth,” he said simply, his voice sounding as broken as his face. “Send him back to Earth.”
As the guards escorted him from the office, Cal caught a glimpse of an unfamiliar expression on Captain Laurence Decker's face. It was the unmistakable look of guilt and regret.
Star Splinter is available now in kindle and paperback on all Amazon online stores. It is also available as an audiobook on audible.com and audible.co.uk
If you’d like to be notified of the release dates for my new books please feel free to sign up to my news letter at www.jgcressey.com/news-letter/
Author’s Thanks
Firstly, I’d like to thank you, the reader, for plucking Harper’s Ten from Amazon and delving inside! I hope you enjoyed it and are hungry for more! I’d be incredibly grateful if you’d take a moment to leave a review on Amazon (even a very brief one). For a new author like myself, those reviews act as firepower in the great battle to be seen among the hordes of novels lining Amazon’s shelves! (Also, I really like reading them!)
I’d like to send out a big thanks to my family and friends for their continued, unwavering support. And to Mark Evans who went above and beyond the call of duty, offering me invaluable advice and aid when it came to bashing this book into shape! Also to Donald and Paddy whose thoughts and comments were a huge help. And I’d like to say a special thanks to my wife, Liz for her editing and typo hunting!
As always, many thanks to my wonderful editor, Amanda Shore for your hard work and support. Massive thanks to the incredibly talented Linggar Bramanty for his amazing cover art, and to my good buddy Andrew Hall for the brilliant cover design. Also, huge gratitude to Polgarus Studio for the stella formatting.
About the author
John G Cressey was born in 1976, and grew up on the south coast of England where he enjoyed an active childhood involving swing ropes, tree houses and homemade go-carts. In his teens the interests became scuba diving, rock climbing and martial arts. At the end of his teens a spanner was thrown in the works in the form of a car crash in which damaged his spine. Deciding that University was too dangerous for a young man in a wheelchair, he decided to travel the world for a decade or so, taking in some of Africa, Brazil, Cambodia and Australia. He also lived in New York and San Diego for a time. But always looked forward to heading back home to England.
Seeing a documentary that showed Roald Dahl sitting in a little garden shed sharpening pencils and scribbling away first piqued John’s interest in writing. Soon after, it was Star Wars that began to influence his imagination. But it was much later down the line when viewing the TV show, Firefly that he finally decided that writing was for him. The show’s balance of light hearted humor, sometimes dark, emotional drama and kick ass action really hit home and the idea for his first book ‘Star Splinter’ began to take shape.
You can learn more about J G Cressey and his upcoming books at his website: www.jgcressey.com
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Epilogue
Chapter 1 of Star Splinter (Fractured space book1)
Acknowledgements
About the author
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J G Cressey, Harper's Ten: Prequel to the Fractured Space Series
