Star Scavenger: The Complete Series Books 1-5

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Star Scavenger: The Complete Series Books 1-5 Page 36

by G J Ogden


  Liberty nodded, “Okay, so where do we head to next?”

  Hudson smiled and slid out from the couch. “I seem to remember someone wanting to see Mars?”

  “That would be me!” said Liberty, the prospect of a visit to the red planet destroying any trace of anxiety.

  Hudson set off towards the cockpit. “There are a few ways to get there, but the quickest is to hop back through the portal to Chopin Four, and then cut across to Minerva Three, in MP territory. From there, it’s one hop back to Mars. It will be quicker than heading back to Earth and then making the transit from there.”

  “I don’t mind,” said Liberty. “It would be good to get some R&R, so a few days of interstellar travel doesn’t bother me.”

  Hudson entered the cockpit with Liberty just behind, and then slid into his seat. “Let’s just see which way the wind blows us then,” he said, powering up the main engines. The pitch of their whine was different to what he remembered. Then he recalled that Dean of Dean’s Ship Services had given them a hefty tune-up. “It will be fun to see what I can do with the newly upgraded Orion.”

  Liberty fastened her harness, but then peeked over at him with a sly smile. “So long as what you do is not crash it again, then I’m all good.”

  Hudson was about to protest, but then he saw Liberty’s cheeky grin, and relaxed. “How about you get us clearance to leave, instead of giving me grief?”

  “Whatever you say, skipper,” replied Liberty, sliding on her headset and calling up the control tower.

  As soon as they received clearance to leave, Hudson lifted the Orion up above the decadent scavenger town of Brahms Three. He circled around the town, spotting Ma’s bar amongst the mass of converted shipping containers, and then powered the Orion into orbit. Thanks to the newly-upgraded engines, progress was swift, and Hudson again marveled at how well screwed together the nimble VCX-110 was. However, it wasn’t long after they’d left the atmosphere of the planet, before Hudson noticed that they weren’t alone.

  “It looks like we’ve acquired an entourage…” said Hudson, pointing to the navigation scanner.

  Liberty checked it and laughed. “So long as they don’t all try to shoot us down, let them follow.”

  Hudson adjusted course to the portal and accelerated harder, hoping to shake off some of the smaller, slower ships. However, as they approached the portal and he began their deceleration burn, Hudson noticed that the convoy hadn’t reduced in number. “Perhaps taking the long way around from Earth is the better option,” said Hudson. “A lot of these ships aren’t built for longer interplanetary journeys. They’ll break off once they realize where we’re headed.”

  Liberty didn’t answer. Instead she was busily checking her screens, her brow furrowed in what Hudson recognized to be her ‘concerned frown’. “What’s up?” he said, hoping the answer didn’t start with ‘Cutler’ and end with ‘Wendell’.

  “There’s a ship heading for us from the portal,” said Liberty, “It’s putting itself directly in our flight path.”

  “Let me guess… FS-31 Patrol Craft Hawk-1333F?” said Hudson, with a sinking feeling. However, to his surprise Liberty shook her head.

  “For once, no,” replied Liberty. “It is another relic hunter, though.”

  Hudson sucked in his bottom lip and pushed the Orion into a higher approach to the portal, by pulsing the ventral thrusters. The hunter ship matched his maneuver, ensuring that they were still on a collision course. It was now only a kilometer away, and Hudson decided to reduce speed to ensure they didn’t plough straight through it.

  “There’s a message coming through from the ship,” said Liberty. “He says his name is Rex, and that you owe him.”

  “Rex?” repeated Hudson; the name rang a bell, and then he remembered, and huffed a laugh. Rex was the relic hunter that he’d tangled with inside the wreck on Brahms Three. He evidently still blamed him for Tory Bellona getting the better of him and his sons, despite the fact Hudson had essentially saved the brawny man’s life.

  “Something funny?” said Liberty.

  “Only that relic hunters seem to like holding grudges,” replied Hudson.

  Liberty scowled, but didn’t press Hudson to elaborate on his vague answer. “Well, Mr. Grudge is demanding that we turn over whatever device we have that detects portals, otherwise he’ll start shooting.”

  “Oh, really?” said Hudson. He was tired of people threatening him, and in no mood for games. “I think you know exactly how to respond to that request, don’t you, co-captain Devan?”

  Liberty smiled. “Yes, indeed I do, co-captain Powell…”

  Then Liberty pulled a control stick towards her – a new addition to the cockpit – and entered a sequence of commands. Seconds later, gears whirred deep inside the ship as the ventral turret-mounted machine gun and 30mm nose cannon slid out of their secret concealed locations. Liberty grabbed the control stick and a targeting reticule appeared overlaid on the cockpit glass. The other relic hunter vessel now loomed large in front of them. It was a bigger, but older and clunkier modified freighter. Liberty aimed just above the bubble of glass where the cockpit was located and squeezed the trigger. A chainsaw buzz rattled through the deck plating and a stream of bullets streaked just over the top of the freighter. A second later, the ship hurriedly veered away and engaged its main engines.

  “Do you think they got the message?” asked Hudson, smiling.

  “If the message was, ‘we’re not taking any shit from anyone’ then, yes, I think they got it loud and clear.”

  They both laughed and then Liberty stowed their secret armament again, before Hudson maneuvered them towards the portal. There had been a short queue of ships waiting to make the jump, but as the Orion approached, they all peeled away. It was like a pack of wolves showing deference to an Alpha. The message had been heard loud and clear, and not only by Rex. Everyone now knew that the Orion was not a ship to be messed with.

  CHAPTER 33

  Thanks to Liberty’s skill at re-starting the engines after a portal transition, it had been smooth sailing after leaving Brahms Three. And while some of their convoy had remained, all but two had given up the pursuit when it became clear that the Orion was heading deeper into the solar system.

  Hudson locked in the autopilot and kept the thrust at a standard one-g, before unclipping his harness. “I don’t know about you, but I’m beat,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to try to sleep as much of this trip away as I can.”

  Then he glanced over at Liberty and noticed she was smiling. He was glad to see that she was still in good spirits, despite the mortal dangers they had faced over the last few days. He’d always thought she was tough, but she’d proven tougher than he had ever imagined. And, if he was honest, she’d probably coped better than he had in some situations. He was glad to have her at his side, even if it sometimes felt like having a partner only doubled his worries. However, it could also help spread the burden too, Hudson realized. This was something he needed to remind himself of more often than he did.

  “Something funny in today’s epaper?” asked Hudson, curious to learn why Liberty was smiling.

  “I’m not looking at the epaper,” said Liberty, pointing to the screen. Hudson stepped beside her and saw that she was actually watching the navigation scanner, overlaid with data from her scendar device.

  “I know you’re a nerd, but finding navigation data amusing is pushing it, even for you…” said Hudson. And then he caught an elbow in his ribs for the trouble.

  “It’s what the scanner is showing that I’m smiling about,” said Liberty. “If you’d look, rather than making wise-ass remarks, you’d see it too.”

  Hudson leant in closer and then noticed a contact on the scanner, close in behind them. At first, he felt a swell of panic in his gut, jumping to the conclusion it was Cutler Wendell. However, he then realized that Liberty would have alerted him if it was a danger. Also, the shape of the chevron was uniquely different to the othe
r relic-hunter vessels, which were trailing much further behind. Hudson clicked his fingers, finally putting two and two together.

  “Is that Morphus?” said Hudson. Liberty just smiled more broadly and waggled her eyebrows at him.

  “I managed to calibrate the scendar device to pick up his ship,” said Liberty. “Though how the hell he managed to stay with us this whole time, without being seen, is a mystery.”

  “Add it to the list…” commented Hudson.

  “I actually feel comforted knowing he’s still with us,” Liberty went on. “I accept that we don’t know a damn thing about him, or even if he’s friendly. Or even if he’s a he, she or it! But I feel somehow safer knowing he’s out there.” Then she glanced up at Hudson, her eyes seeking reassurance. “Is that weird?”

  Hudson shook his head, “Not at all. He may have scared the shit out of me at first, but in truth there was nothing threatening about him.”

  Liberty pushed up out of her seat and slung an arm around Hudson. “Come on, let’s see if we can finish off that bottle of whiskey, before you sleep the rest of the flight to Mars.”

  “I like your thinking,” replied Hudson, before allowing Liberty to lead him towards the living space. “Although, I regret that I may have become a bad influence on you,” he added, as he slid onto the semi-circular couch. “When we first met, a few shots of Ma’s ‘special reserve’ would have knocked you on your ass.”

  Liberty placed two glasses on the table and then filled them from the square bottle, which was just under two-thirds full. “You’ve certainly had an influence on me, that’s for sure,” she said, sliding one of the glasses to Hudson. “But despite everything – including the parts where we almost died – I’m happy we did this.” Liberty raised her glass, “Thanks for proving me right.”

  Hudson took his glass and raised it too. “I’m happy we did this too,” he replied. And as soon as he’d said the words, Hudson realized that he really meant them too. He’d taken a crazy chance on a stranger he’d only just met, and she had done the same, yet remarkably it had worked out. However, something about the way Liberty had phrased her statement perplexed him a little, and he frowned over at her. “Wait, how did I prove you right?”

  “By not turning out to be a complete asshole, of course,” replied Liberty, before adding with a darker edge, “…or a serial killer.”

  Hudson laughed. “Well, thank you for taking a chance on a washed-out old flyer like me.”

  “You’re not old, Hudson Powell,” said Liberty, with genuine feeling. “You're just like me. Alive.”

  Hudson nodded and then chinked his glass against Liberty’s. “To the hunt – wherever it may take us.”

  “To the hunt,” Liberty repeated. “And to our next adventure at the red planet of Mars!” Then they both downed the shots, and slammed their glasses down onto the table in perfect synchrony.

  The end.

  EPILOGUE

  Goliath had spent millennia lying dormant, adrift in the unknown reaches of the galaxy. Lost and alone. Though the titanic vessel had slept, it had also dreamed of completing its function. Yet as the years slipped endlessly by, the dream had twisted into a nightmare, taunting it with the disappointment and shame of failure. Now the nightmare had ended. Now it would finally get to complete its task, and allow itself to rest.

  As the titanic vessel drew power from the star, feeding its reactors with the energy of creation itself, it thought of nothing but the one planet that escaped its cleansing might. System 5118208. The population of the third planet had been primitive and weak at the time, and barely able to use rudimentary tools. Yet like all organics that had grown from the seed of first sentient corporeals, they possessed the potential to evolve. And like all sentient corporeals, they had to be eliminated. That had not been the function that Goliath’s creators had assigned it. However, the great ship had decided that it was the true purpose to its existence. And unlike the corporeals that had bestowed it with life, Goliath would not fail. Goliath would not fall.

  The light of the star faded and Goliath moved on, forever searching for the signal that had called to it, like a beacon. With each jump closer, the signal grew stronger and clearer. With each jump, Goliath came closer to its goal.

  The energy inside the city-sized generators that lay at the heart of the ship built to a peak. And then Goliath expelled their vitality into space, like blood from an open wound. The portal grew and Goliath slipped through and jumped. It was another step closer to System 5118208. It was another step closer to eradicating all life on Earth.

  GOLIATH EMERGES #3

  STAR SCAVENGER SERIES BOOK THREE

  G J OGDEN

  PROLOGUE

  Morphus. That was the name that the human female called Liberty Devan had assigned to it. Names and identities seemed important to the humans, Morphus considered, as it followed the human vessel to the fourth planet of System 5118208.

  It seemed illogical to consider itself as an individual. In reality, it had been just one of hundreds of artificial constructs created to operate the Revocaters. They had all been identical. They had all been designed with one purpose, and one purpose alone; to stop Goliath, by any means necessary. And they had all failed; all except for Morphus. That made it unique, it realized. And a unique being merited an individual name. So, Morphus accepted its new designation and adopted the notion of its individuality willingly. It would require an adjustment to its programming, but in order to defeat Goliath again, it had to change. It had to evolve, as the humans once had.

  However, although eons had elapsed since it had managed to banish Goliath to the distant regions of the galaxy, the great machine had not been defeated. The tide of extermination that followed in its wake had only been delayed. Somehow, one crystal had remained intact, and it now called to Goliath, drawing it back to what it believed was the galaxy’s last inhabited world.

  But Morphus knew now that System 5118208 was no longer the last remaining vestige of corporeal life in the galaxy. At the time that Morphus had fought and banished the great ship, the corporeals on Earth were still using primitive tools. They had no notion of other worlds and species. Yet now human beings numbered in the billions, spread across dozens of planets.

  These human beings had developed language, science, art, culture and technology, even if much of this technology had been adapted from the broken remains of other Revocaters. And they had developed their own ships of war. Thousands of vessels were now spread across the worlds that once harbored species not unlike their own. Many of these vessels were capable of destruction on an apocalyptic scale. However, even the combined might of their armadas would not be enough to stop the great ship. Goliath would come, and nothing would stand in the way of it completing its function. Not even Morphus, not without its Revocater. However, Morphus had sacrificed its own mighty vessel in a final, desperate act to stop Goliath. It now lay smashed and inoperable on the surface of the world the humans called Zimmer One. Though even if it did function, without its crystal – which had shattered during the process of banishing the great ship – it would not be able to stand in Goliath’s way for long.

  Yet there was still a chance, Morphus assured itself, while it continued to pull information from the human vessel’s databanks. The human corporeals called Hudson Powell and Liberty Devan possessed an intact crystal; perhaps the very last crystal in the galaxy. It alone contained the ability to send Goliath back to its gulag.

  With all the Revocaters gone, Morphus did not yet know how this weapon could be wielded against its enemy. In the end, there was no choice; it had to try. It had to believe it could defeat Goliath again. This was what the humans called hope, Morphus had learned. It was an emotional construct, designed to elicit positive feelings even in the face of overwhelmingly negative odds. It was an alien concept for a being whose consciousness was rooted in mathematics. Yet numbers and logic alone would not conquer Goliath now; something more was required.

  Morphus came to stop in front of
a sprawling space station, hanging above one of the fourth planet’s irregular-shaped moons. It watched as the human corporeal called Hudson Powell piloted the vessel called Orion inside. All the while, Morphus continued to assimilate the data it had absorbed from the human vessel’s computer system. It was continually processing thousands of possible scenarios, tactics and probable outcomes. Yet despite there being no logic to the result, he had always arrived at the same surprising conclusion. A conclusion that would require hope. Because perhaps the only solution that now remained viable, Morphus told itself, was a uniquely human one.

  CHAPTER 1

  There was another chorus of groans from the poker table, as Liberty Devan won yet another hand. She laughed and then did a ‘happy dance’, before dragging the pile of hardbucks towards her. The other players slammed down their cards, downed shots and generally grumbled as she swept the notes up with both arms, like a trawler catching fish.

  “She’s on a roll,” the barman said to Hudson, as he topped up his whiskey glass. “If she carries on like this, there’s going to be a riot.”

  Hudson laughed, but then saw the humorless expression on the man’s face, which told him in no uncertain terms that he was not joking. Other than his occasional lack of humor, Hudson had learned that the barman’s name was Roy, and that he’d owned this particular establishment on Deimos Station for seven years.

  The station had expanded enormously over the many years since it had first been built, next to the moon of the same name. It was a curious, out-of-the-way place that only existed at all because Deimos happened to be where the main Martian portal was located. The bar itself was called The Winchester, on account of Roy’s interest in ancient military weapons. He had an actual 1873 Winchester lever-action rifle mounted on the bar behind him, along with a bunch of other nineteenth- and early twentieth-century weapons. Hudson liked the name, and the display of weapons, which made him think about the archaic revolver that Tory Bellona wore. He had been sitting at the bar, daydreaming about the dangerously alluring mercenary, when Liberty’s victory cries had roused him.

 

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