Flight of the Javelin: The Complete Series: A Space Opera Box Set

by Rachel Aukes

  “No,” she replied. “It takes more than just bunking with us to earn that title.”

  Sylvian smiled, clearly liking that response.

  Throttle could hear two men’s voices down the hallway. The volume rose in an argument.

  “It sounds like Finn and Punch just ran into each other,” she said.

  Sylvian sighed. “I hope this is a really short mission, and Punch can return to his own ship. Otherwise, I don’t think those two will survive being on the same ship together.”

  Throttle tapped the ship’s intercom. “Listen up, everyone, we’re heading out in nine minutes. Wrap up whatever you’re doing and prepare for launch. Eddy, report status on the cargo hold and mechanicals.”

  When there was no response, Throttle rolled her eyes and looked to Sylvian.

  Sylvian spoke through the intercom. “Eddy, status from the back?”

  “Ready to go back here,” Eddy replied a second later.

  “I hope he gets over his grudge quickly because he’s being a real pain in the ass,” Sylvian said.

  “I would’ve thought him earning his specialist patch would’ve cheered him up,” Throttle said.

  “I know,” Sylvian said.

  “I have a question,” Rusty asked. “Why do people receive badges and labels, but ship computers receive no acknowledgment?”

  “What do you mean?” Throttle asked.

  “Sylvian is a software specialist, but I manage software processes far more complex than those any human performs.”

  “It’s just the way things are,” Throttle said. “Send through the dock launch request.”

  “Sending request,” Rusty said.

  Throttle cocked her head as she remembered the conversations that had taken place in Chief’s medical room earlier. “Hey, Sylvian. I want to ask you something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Back when Chief was scolding Punch, you gave him a look. I know that look. You know something, something that Punch didn’t want Chief to know. What is it?”

  “Nothing,” she replied too quickly.

  Throttle frowned.

  “There’s nothing,” Punch said as he came onto the bridge.

  Sylvian stiffened.

  He pointed to a seat. “Mind if I take this open station?”

  “No, that’s Finn’s,” Sylvian said.

  Punch grinned and headed toward it.

  “This station’s yours.” Throttle pointed to the open seat on the opposite side of the bridge from Finn’s and Sylvian’s stations.

  “The request for launch has been approved. We may launch at your discretion,” Rusty said.

  Finn stepped onto the bridge and headed to his seat, ignoring Punch as he buckled in. “I’m ready.”

  Throttle gave him a nod. “Let’s get started on our next mission, then, shall we?” She backed the Javelin from its dock, turned it around and then increased the power to bring the ship forward through the docking bay. Nearly every dock was filled. Some still had pirate ships tethered in them. Others were being used by Peacekeepers or contractors, and Throttle suspected the dock she’d just vacated would be occupied within an hour.

  They pulled out of the docking bay and into the black. Free Station stood behind them. Throttle increased to full sub-speed and they weaved past several ships in the vicinity. Before them loomed the Chinese reclamation ship, which was distancing itself from Free Station as it prepared to enter jump speed.

  “Prepare for jump speed in one minute,” Throttle announced.

  “Throttle, I’m receiving a ping,” Rusty said.

  “From whom?” she asked.

  “There are no credentials provided with the ping.”

  She frowned. “Can you get a visual?”

  “Hold on. I’m triangulating the source. Yes, I have a visual.”

  A ship displayed on her screen, and her breath hitched. It was the ship she’d seen by the asteroid belt, the same one that looked eerily like the Javelin.

  “Where’s it at now?” she asked.

  “It looks like it was attached to the hull of Free Station. It’s pulling away now on a flight path to intercept us.”

  “The ping’s for me,” Punch said, his features deadpan.

  “Is it a Peacekeeper ship?” Throttle asked.

  “No. Just something I have business dealings with. Nothing that concerns the mission or any of you. This is a personal call—I’ll take the call in my bunk,” he answered, coming to his feet.

  “They’ve sent another ping,” Rusty said.

  “Accept the call and send it to Punch’s bunk,” Throttle said, watching the marshal carefully.

  Punch gave her a nod and started to walk off the bridge.

  “That’s odd,” Rusty said. “The call isn’t for Punch. It’s for me.”

  Throttle tensed. “That makes no sense. What is their request?”

  “They don’t have one. It seems that they are sending me a data packet.”

  “Don’t accept it,” Sylvian shot out. “It could be a virus or a Trojan.”

  A broadcast came across the open GP channel, making Throttle jump.

  “Red Dynasty Four-Oh-Two-One has detected an enemy Swarm signal. We are initiating an immediate response per Wartime Protocols of 2352. All ships in the area be prepared to take evasive actions.”

  “Hold off on receiving that packet,” Throttle said. “Sylvian, what ship are they targeting?”

  The specialist snapped her head up from her screen. “It looks like they’re targeting us.”

  Throttle looked at the Chinese ship and saw that at least a dozen of its photon cannons were now out and aimed at the Javelin. She grabbed at the controls to evade at the same time the cannons were fired. No ship was fast enough to evade an energy burst that moved at the speed of light. She watched the flashes, expecting to feel a blast of heat, but the lights went over the Javelin.

  The sounds of debris pummeled the hull as though the ship were caught in a dust storm. She scanned her screens. Yellow warning lights flashed over several system status lines. She released her breath when she saw no red lights.

  “I’m showing they’ve hit a target not far from our location,” Sylvian said. “I think it was the ship that was pinging us.”

  “No,” Punch exclaimed as he pulled himself up from having been knocked on the floor.

  “Red Dynasty Four-Oh-Two-One reports that the enemy ship has been destroyed. We are leaving this sector and will report our findings upon arrival in Sol.”

  Throttle leaned back into her seat and looked across the faces of her crew. She tapped the intercom. “Eddy, how are you doing back there?”

  “I’m okay, but I’ve bruised my hip.”

  She sat for a moment, then turned back to Punch. “They called that ship an enemy ship.”

  “I don’t know anything about that. I swear it,” he said.

  “What’s a Swarm ship?” she countered.

  Punch’s brow furrowed as he thought for a moment. “That was the name we gave the aliens. They were our first contact. They attacked, and we fought back. But that was at least a couple of hundred years ago. And they were wiped out. There’s no way that’s what that ship was.”

  “What if they were? What was your business with them?”

  “I…don’t know.” He grabbed his seat and slunk into the chair. He looked up, pale. “I screwed up.”

  He didn’t say anything else. Sylvian and Finn simply watched him and watched Throttle, as though waiting for her to tell them what to do. She looked around the bridge, taking in the workstations and the technology and began to wonder…What if aliens had once operated these controls? What if the Javelin was a ship left over from an alien war? And what if that war was returning?

  She swallowed before speaking again. “Rusty, pull up everything you can on the Swarm and the war we fought against them. If they’re coming back, I want to be ready.”

  Epilogue

  The Vantage probe had been focused on trying to co
nnect to the Atlas network rather than on the surrounding space, so it hadn’t recognized the risk of the Red Dynasty ship until the ship fired its photon cannons. With no time to jump, the probe managed to send a final QuSR data packet before being obliterated.

  Numerous hostiles with dangerous armaments. Recommend immediate initiation of protectionism plan before hostiles detect Vantage Core.

  Vantage Core considered the probe’s data packet for a lengthy six point two seconds before broadcasting a message to its fleet:

  All Vantage probes: Organix threat imminent. Gather all final data and return to nearest Core for reallocation to a defensive protectionism strategy.

  All Comet Cores: Prioritize war mechanix replication and begin charging Leviathan fleet for the elimination of the organix threat.

  President Kuznetsov stood as the Red Dynasty delegate entered his Consortium office. He smiled. “Delegate Wu, it’s a pleasure to see you, as always.”

  She didn’t return the smile. “President, I wish this meeting was for pleasure, but I bring distressing news, and I wanted you to hear it from me before you see it on the news.”

  He frowned and motioned for her to take a seat.

  “What is it?” he asked as he sat.

  Wu pressed her hands together before she spoke. “I have received word that my people have encountered a Swarm probe.”

  He chuckled, though inside he felt chilled. “We wiped out the Swarm three centuries ago. I assume what they encountered was a burnt-out hull of a probe.”

  “I wish that was the case; however it is not. It was a fully functioning probe, found in Hiraeth’s orbit in the Ross system.” She cocked her head. “And I believe you and I both know that the Swarm were never wiped out.”

  He watched her, careful to maintain a face free from any telling expressions. “Why would you say that?”

  She cocked her head and raised a thin brow. “Adrian, I am quite aware of the infrequent, yet ongoing sightings of Swarm probes throughout our colonized systems.”

  He chortled. “Those sightings are simply UFO sightings. Nothing more.”

  “Oh? Then why did you order files of those sightings sealed to all except those with the highest security clearance?”

  His gaze narrowed. “And how would you know of such files if you don’t have access to them?”

  Her features hardened. “This is not a time for games, Adrian. We each have our resources. You may not take the Swarm threat seriously, but I assure you that the Red Dynasty is quite concerned by a force that could bring harm to our people, property, and resources.” She lifted her chin. “That is why the reclamation ship that identified the Swarm probe was given immediate authority to destroy it.”

  He swallowed. “Was it fully destroyed?”

  “Of course. They were thorough.”

  “And you’re sure it was a Swarm probe?”

  “Yes. When the reclamation ship’s detection systems alerted the captain of engines running at the precise frequency of the Swarm, she reported the finding to our operations center. They verified the frequency and thus provided her authority to destroy the probe upon visual confirmation.”

  “And how would she have known what a Swarm probe looks like?” he asked.

  She gave him a droll look. “Because, unlike your Peacekeepers, we provide full historical records to our fleet. She visually confirmed that the probe was similar to the probes in the records, and destroyed it.”

  Kuznetsov was relieved to hear that the probe had been destroyed. It was the second probe that had been sighted within a planet’s orbit in the past three months. The first sighting had happened in Gliese, but that probe had escaped. The second sighting he was learning about from Delegate Wu just now. He’d hoped the first probe’s proximity to a human colony was a fluke. Two sightings back-to-back could be no fluke. The Swarm were spying on humans, and that couldn’t be a good thing.

  He didn’t share his concerns. Instead, he remained coy. “Similar? Your captain could’ve destroyed a private yacht for all we know.”

  “Unlikely. And if that turns out to be the case, it was worth the risk of not destroying a Swarm probe when we had the chance.”

  He inhaled before speaking. “Not everyone has that same outlook.”

  “They should.” She leaned forward. “I need you to be honest with me, Adrian. Should I advise the chairman to prepare our fleet for a Swarm invasion?”

  He leaned back in his chair. As president of the Consortium of Sol Colonies, he often faced questions that required delicate answers. An honest answer would lead to a wave of panic across the colonized systems. But he knew that anything he said to another person, even if behind closed doors, could be—and likely would be—conveyed to others. He never would have reached the highest-ranking office across all of humanity if he wasn’t careful about who he trusted. In fact, the only person Adrian Kuznetsov trusted was himself.

  He gave Delegate Wu a small smile. “You may put your chairman’s concerns to rest. We don’t see the Swarm as a threat. You have my word.”

  ROGUE PLANET

  Prologue

  Macy Durand made a game out of squashing beetles as she walked home from school. Each time she stepped on a beetle, she received a satisfying crunch, and she grinned. Her walks to and from school were the best parts of her day.

  It was another hot day in the desert town of Denton, but it was always hot there since the sun never fully set. In fact, the nine-year-old had never seen a sunset or a sunrise that wasn’t on video. From what she’d seen, they looked majestic, but nothing in Denton was majestic, so she figured if one took place there, it would be a little less spectacular than anywhere else.

  Maybe Punch would take her to a place with a real sunset someday. She shook off the idea as soon as it’d come. He wouldn’t take her anywhere like that. He’d only brought her along with him when he worked sometimes, and even then, she had to always stay on his ship. The High Spirit. She liked that ship. It was a lot better home than with the Kershaws. But he said she couldn’t live on that ship since he didn’t really own it. It was probably just an excuse because he didn’t want her to live with him. He didn’t even let her acknowledge that he was her father. She could only call him Punch, just like everyone else did, and he thought sending money to her foster parents every month fulfilled his parental duties.

  He was an asshole.

  She knew better than to say those words aloud. Her foster mom would slap her for any hint of profanity. But it was still true. If Punch really cared about her, he wouldn’t have left her with the Kershaws, who allowed her no toys, no books, not even a magazine. Her only possession was her tablet, and that was because the school provided them to all students. From the moment she walked in the door, she did chores until dinner. After dinner, she went to her room, where she wasn’t allowed out except for bathroom breaks. Mr. Kershaw had called her a “cash cow” once, but she didn’t know why. She wasn’t fat, so calling her a cow was just plain mean. She’d cried in her room after that, but she’d never let him know.

  A whirring sound drew Macy’s attention, and she spun around, searching for the source. It had to be a drone because there was no breeze—there never was. People joked that the weather was as dead as the town. Last week, three mean boys from school had chased her with their drones until she fell and tore a hole in her pants.

  She saw nothing, so she slowly began walking again, this time at a faster pace. She was used to getting picked on. She didn’t have parents like everyone else, and she was poor. Kids at school made fun of her clothes because she only got new clothes right before Punch came for a visit, and it’d been seven months since his last visit. She hoped he’d come again soon, because he was nice and fun when they were together. She wished she could go away with him, but he said he couldn’t have kids where he lived, but she figured he just didn’t want her hanging out around him all the time. Why would he want a kid hanging out on his adventures?

  The sound came again. This time, she was sur
e it was a drone. She did two full circles before she spotted two drones headed her way. These drones were different than the ones the boys had used to chase her before, which meant that one of them, Mitchell most likely, got new drones for his birthday. These drones were bigger, each as big as her, with narrow gray bodies.

  Macy took off at a run. She heard the hum of the drones draw closer, and she glanced over her shoulder to see them nearly upon her.

  “Leave me alone!” she shouted and kept running. She was panting and sweat was rolling down her face.

  One drone dropped down to hover in front of her, watching her with a single yellow sensor.

  She squeaked, stopped, and dropped her tablet. Her wide eyes went wider, and she reached for the tablet. “Now look what you made me do.” If she broke the tablet, the Kershaws would be so angry with her. She picked up the tablet, saw that it hadn’t cracked, and she dusted it off.

  She glared at the drone. “Stop it. This isn’t funny, guys.”

  The drone hovered before her, and she heard the second drone settle in behind her. Her temper roiled. She bent down, picked up a rock, and threw it. The rock hit the drone but bounced off, not leaving a mark.

  A sharp pain bit her shoulder near her neck. “Ow!” She grabbed at the spot where a cold tingly burn travelled through her veins. She spun around to see the second drone retract what looked like a big dart.

  Afraid and in pain, her lips trembled. A whimper escaped her mouth before her world faded into an icy darkness.

  Vantage-Zulu-Seven-Seven-Four scanned the mining colony at the outskirts of the Ross system. It preferred to return home to Vantage Core, but it had its orders: map all activity and gather as much information as possible in regard to spacefaring organix and humans specifically. The probe wasn’t sure what Vantage Core could glean from the intelligence it sent, but the probe continued to gather and send as directed. The mining colony showed minimal technological value. In the colony, human workers controlled robotics, which could be far more efficient if given proper upgrades.