Superdreadnought- The Complete Series

by C H Gideon

  Her head swam, and a loud ringing stabbed her ears. She struggled to get up, scattering the debris around her as she climbed to her feet.

  Jiya clutched the wall beside her to stay upright. She regretted her insistence then and thought about flopping back to the floor. That was when she remembered the inventor.

  “Takal!” she screamed over the comm despite the piercing agony it inflicted upon her brain. “Takal!”

  She surged toward the hatch to look outside. Her stomach lurched at what she saw.

  The Pod had broken free of its moorings and was floating out into space. She grabbed the frame of the door and swallowed hard.

  The asteroid that had struck theirs had apparently only glanced it, but that had been more than enough to send her rock careening away.

  Open space yawned beneath Jiya where semi-solid ground had been only moments before. She spotted a humanoid shape floating in the emptiness and recognized it as one of the bots.

  “Oh…” she mumbled, knowing that Takal’s fate had been the same as the bots.

  She adjusted her optics and cast a frantic glance around. There were only seconds available to her before she lost Takal forever.

  Then she spied him.

  “Takal!” she screamed. “Make sure your transponder is on.”

  She marked his position as best she could, not getting a response, and dove back into the Pod. Her breath fogged the glass of her visor quicker than the system could clear it as she raced for the pilot’s seat.

  Jiya threw herself into it, not wasting any time engaging the restraints. She grabbed the controls, fired up the engines, made the most cursory of examinations as to her surroundings on the scanners, and shot off after the inventor.

  “I’m coming, Takal,” she called.

  She didn’t know if he could hear her, but she damn well wasn’t going to leave him floating in space without a friendly voice to let him know rescue was on the way.

  The comm crackled and Jiya’s pulse roared, but it was Reynolds who came across the connection, not Takal.

  “We’re tracking him,” the AI reported, updating the inventor’s current position.

  Jiya growled and adjusted her flight path. She’d been going off her estimated coordinates, and they hadn’t been nearly close enough factoring in the drift of Takal’s momentum.

  “Biosystems show he’s alive, but he doesn’t appear to be conscious,” Reynolds went on. “Heartbeat steady, oxygen at sufficient values. He hasn’t sprung a leak.”

  That was the best news Jiya could hope for.

  She thought for a second about having the bots go after him, but in the rush, she’d forgotten how limited their signals had been.

  “That was what got us into this mess in the first place,” she growled, furious at herself for letting Takal wander off. The bots were useless at this range with all the interfering radiation.

  Jiya veered off sharply to avoid being struck by pieces of asteroid debris, then shifted back to follow Takal. The scanners told her there was another of the SD Reynolds’ Pods a short distance behind her, but it wouldn’t reach Takal any faster than she would, even with Helm piloting it.

  “You have eyes on?” she asked.

  “Negative,” Reynolds came back. “His transponder’s working, but the asteroid field is blocking our advance. Ria’s afraid to barrel through for fear of stirring these rocks up even more.”

  As much as Jiya was grateful for the girl’s thoughtfulness, to learn she wouldn’t have the superdreadnought’s muscle at her back sent a chill skittering up her spine. She hurt all over from getting thrown around, and she’d hoped to be relieved of having to do it all. Such was not to be her fate, however, so she clenched her jaw and willed the pain to a dull roar.

  It was just her and Helm, and unless the AI’s piloting personality had a bunch of bots aboard, he wouldn’t be a whole lot of help—not that the bots would be either.

  Jiya snarled as she hurried to where Takal was last reported. There was no way she was letting him go.

  The asteroid field had other ideas, however.

  As the Pod wound its way through the field, two nearby asteroids collided, banking one of them straight at the Pod.

  Jiya nearly bit her tongue off as she veered sharply, only remembering at the last second that she wasn’t strapped in.

  She wrapped her legs around her chair and hung on for dear life as the Pod rolled. Her every muscle shrieked as her battered body struggled to remain seated.

  The asteroid struck the rear of the Pod.

  There was a loud metallic crunch as the upper back end of the Pod crumpled in on itself and sent the craft tumbling. Jiya gasped, amazed that she had managed to remain in position, although she wasn’t sure her shoulders or legs appreciated the effort.

  She fought the controls and brought it about, and a prayer slipped from her lips as she realized the engines were still functional. The asteroid had missed crushing them along with the top of the Pod.

  “Location!” she screamed over the comm. “I need coordinates.”

  Silence answered her.

  “Where’s Takal?” she shouted again, her voice raw with emotion. She could taste copper in the back of her throat. “Where is he?”

  “The transponder’s gone silent,” Reynolds told her.

  The words were like hands of ice grasping her heart.

  “No,” she spat. “Find him!”

  Jiya spun the ship and engaged the scanners, despite knowing they were effectively worthless in this patch of irradiated space.

  She wasn’t going to give up, though.

  “Helm’s going to continue the search,” the AI told her. “You need to get that wrecked Pod back to the ship.”

  “I’m not leaving him out here,” she argued.

  “Neither are we,” Reynolds shot back, “but we can’t risk losing you—”

  “Me too?” she interrupted, her cheeks flushing. “Was that what you were going to say?”

  “Let Helm find him,” Reynolds said, avoiding her question. “Return to the Reynolds. That’s an order,” he added.

  Jiya ignored the command, although she stayed quiet to keep from outright defying the captain. She knew she needed to be professional and do what she was told. Reynolds meant well; he wasn’t giving up on Takal, but Jiya couldn’t help but see it that way.

  If she turned around and left and Takal died…

  No!

  She wouldn’t think that way. She refused to.

  “He’s out here, Reynolds,” she told the AI. “He has to be. I’m going to—”

  “Incoming!” Reynolds shouted across the link. “Pull back!”

  Instinct kicked in and Jiya pulled back on the stick, reining in the Pod’s forward momentum. She snarled and cursed and stomped her foot on the deck, furious that she’d been forced to halt her pursuit, but she’d had no choice, she realized, no matter how much she wanted to ignore that fact.

  One of the alien mining ships appeared a short distance ahead of her, blocking her path.

  She reached for the weapons controls, ready to blast the ship out of her way so she could continue her search, but a hollow thrumming buzz warned her of incoming communications. She opened the channel without thinking.

  “You better have a damn good reason for impeding my passage,” she snarled.

  A deep, sonorous voice came back across the connection. “I assumed you wanted to know that your lost crewmember is safe aboard our vessel,” the voice said. “Am I incorrect?”

  “Takal?” Jiya gasped.

  “Safe and sound, Jiya,” the old inventor replied. “Safe and sound, thanks to my newfound friends here.”

  Jiya slumped in her seat with relief.

  “Thank you,” she muttered, barely able to get the words out. “Thank you.”

  Chapter Three

  “I am Gol Ato,” the mining ship’s pilot told Jiya. “And you are?”

  “The name is Jiya Lemaire,” she answered, “first officer of the S
D Reynolds. That’s the superdreadnought looming a short distance above us.”

  “What purpose do you have in Muultarian space?”

  Jiya sighed. Just once she’d like to go someplace and not be challenged.

  It wasn’t like people showed up in orbit bearing gifts and good tidings very often.

  “We’re on a mission for our superiors,” she replied, knowing she had to be careful what she revealed. Who knew what would set these aliens off? She couldn’t afford to do that, especially seeing how they had Takal. “We’re simply passing through your system and stumbled across the ore in the asteroids. We stopped to take a small sample, that’s it.”

  “All of the devium in this system belongs to His Imperial Majesty Krol Gow,” Gol announced. “It is a violation of his laws to collect or possess devium without royal consent.”

  Oh, hello there, foot in mouth. How I’ve missed you!

  “We are not from your world…obviously, and did not know this,” Jiya argued. “We would be glad to return the small amount we appropriated in exchange for our crewmember, and then we will gladly vacate your system.”

  She knew she shouldn’t be speaking for Reynolds, seeing as how she couldn’t picture the AI leaving the system until he learned more about Jora’nal, Phraim-‘Eh, and the Pillar, the massive enemy ship that had been tailing them. But since these miners had Takal, there was no way she was going to defer the negotiation and delay his freedom.

  “I’m afraid I cannot authorize such a trade,” Gol told her. “The emperor’s laws are absolute. He is the arbiter of all decisions, and I must abide by his will.”

  Of course, he is…

  Jiya groaned. “I’ll need to speak with my captain,” she told the alien miner.

  “So be it,” Gol replied. “My crew is sending you coordinates now. Bring your chosen representatives in one of your Pods, within the hour, and do nothing to provoke the emperor’s wrath or there will be dire consequences.”

  It’s like every species works off the same handbook for how to handle alien encounters, Jiya thought.

  “I’ll return to my ship and inform my captain of your demands,” she told the Muultu. “Make sure you keep my friend safe,” she added with a snarl.

  Gol said nothing in reply.

  His ship turned about and shot back toward Muultar, weaving through the asteroid field with ease.

  “Want me to follow them?” Helm asked.

  Jiya did, but she knew it wasn’t a good idea. “No,” she replied. “We have our marching orders…for now.”

  Having thought she’d lost Takal, it infuriated her to have to leave him in the hands of some unknown alien race that had already proven they had people working for Phraim-‘Eh who had participated in an effort to kill Reynolds and the crew.

  But she knew the best thing she could do was return to the SD Reynolds and make a plan.

  Together, they’d get Takal back.

  “I’m already not liking these people,” Geroux growled. She paced back and forth, her fists clenched, cheeks flaring with crimson dots. The bridge lighting was subdued and did nothing to dampen her internal fire.

  “The fact that they rescued him bodes well,” Reynolds said, assuming his role as the calming presence. “Had they wanted to hurt him, they could have left him out there.”

  “I feel better already,” Jiya snarled.

  Reynolds shrugged. “Well, it’s the truth, shitty as it might sound.” He held up his hand and locked eyes with Jiya. She unclenched her jaw, but her mouth continued to run away with her.

  “I guess it’s okay for them to hold him hostage in order to force our hand?”

  “I didn’t say it was,” he shot back, cautioning her to rein in her acerbic tongue. “I simply said that it’s a good sign that they kept him alive, regardless of their reasoning. It gives us a chance to rescue him.”

  “By walking into who knows what,” Asya countered. “This could be a trap.”

  “It could be,” Reynolds replied, “but it wouldn’t be the first one we’ve walked into, now would it?”

  “I thought you were the one who wanted us to learn from our mistakes,” Jiya argued.

  “I do,” he answered, “but sometimes we have to take a chance, especially when one of our crew is at risk. We don’t leave anyone alive behind. Ever!”

  Jiya was about to argue that that had been what Reynolds had suggested when he’d ordered her to pull back in the Pod, but she knew deep down that he hadn’t. His order was to protect her life while recovery efforts were underway by remote control—the challenge of leadership that Reynolds, and Reynolds alone, had to carry. She grimaced at her lack of self-control.

  When will I get my dumb ass under control? she thought and blew out a heavy breath, shaking her head at herself and not the captain.

  Reynolds hadn’t wanted to lose two of his crew and had made the difficult decision of risking that one of his people might die so that no others would.

  Her stomach churned at the thought, but he had been right.

  That was something she would have to learn one of these days: how to compartmentalize her feelings and make the hard calls to save lives, even if it meant losing someone close to her.

  She hoped she would never have to make that call, but expected that one day she would.

  “So, what do we do?” she asked, looking for options.

  “We suit up and follow their directions,” Reynolds answered matter of factly. “First, however, we bring the Reynolds closer to their orbit so we have the cavalry in position, and we scan the planet as best we can before we go down. Get the lay of the land.”

  Reynolds didn’t wait for Jiya to agree. He gestured for Ria to follow his command, and the young ensign did just that.

  “We go in guns blazing?” Ka’nak asked, slamming a fist into the palm of his hand.

  “We prepare to blaze, but we go in like we always do,” Reynolds corrected. “We try to trade first, and go from there.”

  “We’re not putting my uncle in danger just so we can get into a fight,” Geroux spat, glaring at the Melowi.

  Ka’nak threw his hands in the air. “I wasn’t implying we should,” he told her. “I want the old guy back as badly as you do. He’s my drinking buddy.”

  Geroux sighed, looked ready to berate Ka’nak again, especially about encouraging Takal’s drinking, then simply went silent. She nodded to him.

  “If we need to use force, we will,” Reynolds assured everyone, “but let’s exhaust our other options before that. No one needs to get hurt.”

  “Until they do,” Tactical added.

  “Until they do,” Ka’nak parroted loudly.

  “Until they do,” Reynolds agreed, glancing at Geroux.

  Jiya went over and gave her friend a fierce hug. “We’ll get him back,” she told her. “I promise.”

  Geroux sniffed and nodded, squeezing Jiya back.

  “Muultar’s a shithole,” XO reported, his authoritative voice cutting through the sudden silence that had fallen over the bridge.

  “Care to be a little more specific?” Reynolds asked.

  “The radiation from the three suns has kicked the planet in its molten nuts,” XO went on. “The atmosphere, while breathable by the crew, is like being hot-boxed by Cheech and Chong while Arnold Schwarzenegger lights up a long Cuban in the back seat.”

  “I’m not sure what language that was, so can you maybe say that again in one that the translators understand?” Jiya asked, glaring at XO’s station.

  “It’s too harsh to breathe directly,” Reynolds replied for XO. “Everyone keeps their helmets on at all times while exposed to the atmosphere.”

  “What about orbital defenses?” Asya asked.

  “This place isn’t designed to stand against an invasion,” Tactical answered. “There are eight cruisers in orbit around the planet, but they might as well be rockets for all their effectiveness.”

  “What do you mean?” Jiya asked.

  “The ships are junkers
,” Tactical said. “Old tech that was old tech when tech was old. We could go toe to toe with all eight ships at once and walk away without a scratch.”

  “Then why are we letting them hold Takal?” Ka’nak asked.

  “Because they don’t need a cruiser to kill him,” Reynolds reminded. “We go down there and do what we have to do to collect him, then we’re free to let Tactical loose on the Muultu if that’s what we need to do. Until then, however, we’re going to play nice. Understood?”

  The crew grudgingly agreed to the captain’s orders.

  Reynolds grunted at their attitudes and turned back to Tactical. “Keep in mind that our primary mission, the reason we’re here, is to find the Phraim-‘Eh cult members and extract everything they know about the Kurtherians. I need that information, and I’ll do what I have to in order to get it.” Those on the bridge shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting around. “Tactical, what’s the surface look like?”

  “Like twice-roasted shit,” Tactical replied. “The planet appears to be a giant floating volcano. There are pockets of civilization spread across Muultar that appear to be shielded to some degree, probably by the fancy element the professor found. Nothing as fancy as the Krokans, mind you, but some kind of atmospheric manipulation that keeps the worst of the heat and noxious fumes outside the barrier. The temperature and radiation levels are reduced at the population centers, although I’d still suggest staying covered.”

  “Is their tech level on the ground the same as in space?” Asya asked.

  “Industrial-level tech all around, as far as I can tell. The planet barely gives off an energy signature, and while some of that might be due to the radiation levels, I’m not picking up anything that makes me think they’ve advanced beyond just getting into space.”

  “So, no Kurtherian energy signatures?” Reynolds asked.

  “Nothing stands out,” Tactical replied.

  “Did the cultist lie to us?” Maddox asked aloud.

  “Only one way to find out,” Reynolds answered. “We go down to the planet and start asking questions.”