Copyright © 2021 by Robert C. James
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Cover design by Yvonne Less, Art 4 Artists
Contents
Stay Up To Date
Prologue
Three Years Later
Chapter 1
Nine Months Later
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Epilogue
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Frontier’s Reach
Robert C. James
Prologue
UECS Raptor
Three years. Forty million dead. Unparalleled destruction. Who knew one of the most catastrophic wars mankind had ever waged would end on the backdrop of such beauty?
The colors of the great nebula mesmerized Lieutenant Jason Cassidy as he walked onto the command deck of the UECS Raptor. Its official designation was Nebula TPA-338. Hardly a fitting name for something of such artistry. The blues, greens, yellows, and reds of the gaseous phenomenon created a spectacular display revealing just what the universe offered beyond the small blue jewel of Earth.
“Are you just going to stand there?”
Jason snapped out of his trance-like state at the deep voice of the Raptor’s Chief-of-the-Boat, Chief Lin, who stepped through the hatchway beside him.
“You better get to the helm, sir,” Lin said to him with a wry grin.
Jason shared a smile with the chief then walked along the circular upper deck of the Raptor’s command center to take a seat at his station. To his left, the Raptor’s navigator, Lieutenant Christian Nash, looked at him expectantly.
“You took your time,” he said. “I don’t often beat you up here.”
Jason opened his mouth to say something, but Nash beat him to the punch.
“Not Ensign Robinson again?”
Jason tried to hide his smirk. “Well—”
“I knew it! You couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Nash could read Jason like a book. Always had. The pair went to the academy together and graduated just as the Earth-Centauri War began. They’d risen through the ranks and become the best of friends.
“She’s nice.” While Jason saw nothing long-lasting coming out of the relationship, they were a comfort for each other in a dark time.
“She also has a fiancé back on Cerberus,” Nash pointed out.
“You know what they say about different ZIP codes?”
His friend chuckled as Commander Riggs broke up their childish conversation.
“Lieutenant Nash, how long until we’re within weapons range?” the Raptor’s first officer asked from the pit, below the upper level of the command deck.
“Four minutes, Commander,” he replied.
“And what’s their ETA to the outer edge of the nebula?”
“Twelve minutes. We’ll reach them well before they can enter it.”
Jason checked his monitor at the ship they were pursuing. A Foulke-Class freighter. It’s designation: SS Bombay. While a fairly standard craft, the Bombay wasn’t just any ship. It represented the end of a conflict. When the Earth-Centauri War officially ended five months earlier, a task force was put together to hunt down the remaining civilian and military leaders of the Centauri Rebellion. The Raptor had been tasked with spearheading the mission. So, while the bulk of the force’s servicemen and women were given the reprieve they deserved, the war continued on for Jason and the rest of the crew.
Five hundred rebels were tracked down in the months since the surrender. But one had been most elusive. Doctor Benjamin Tyrell was a minor player in the rebellion war effort, but one deemed extremely dangerous with orders to kill on sight. Jason often wondered what the man had done that didn’t justify bringing him to trial. Tyrell’s official file had been sealed tight. None but those at the very top of the United Earth Commonwealth and the Defense Force knew his true story.
“Lieutenant Ortega, when we’re within range I want a firing solution on the Bombay.”
The steely gaze of the Raptor’s CO, Captain Pizzeri, connected with the ship’s combat officer from the pit. Lieutenant David Ortega nodded at the ‘old man’.
“Sir, the Bombay is attempting to open a commlink,” came the voice of Ensign Kennebeck from the communications station on the opposite side of the command deck.
“Block the link,” Riggs said to her. Along with a prompt destruction order, under no circumstances were there to be any communications.
“Commlink blocked.”
“Two minutes until weapons range,” Ortega noted.
“So, what are you going to do with your furlough when we get back home?” Nash whispered to Jason.
That remained a question Jason was yet to answer. He didn’t know where home was anymore.
“Perhaps you could take Ensign Robinson to Lake Osiris on Cerberus. I think that’s where her fiancé proposed to her.”
“Ha-ha.” Jason rolled his eyes, returning his attention to his monitor where a new bogey appeared on the scanners.
“Sir!” Ortega bellowed, seeing the new blip first. “The Bombay has launched a torpedo. It’s armed with a tritonium warhead!”
Jason didn’t wait for the captain’s order. He slowed the forward trajectory of the Raptor and turned hard to port, showing the destroyer’s well-shielded underbelly to take the brunt of the blast. The maneuver churned the bottom of his stomach, even with the artificial gravity masking the worst of the g-forces.
Then the torpedo exploded.
White light filled the command deck as the warhead detonated before them. The blast threw the Raptor off its axis and sent her into a spin. Jason grabbed hold of his console, doing his best not to launch f
rom his seat. The Raptor’s hull squealed, bent and twisted. Sparks flew, and lights flickered.
The last thing Jason remembered was a beam collapsing from the ceiling and smashing into the helm.
“Cassidy!”
His eyes slowly opened, and some light appeared through the blurriness.
“Cassidy, can you hear me?”
“Nash…” Jason blinked, allowing his vision to get used to the light above the concerned face of his friend. “Where… How?”
Nash dragged him to his feet and sat him in his chair in front of the ruined helm console. It all started to come back to him.
“That would explain why my head feels so numb.” Jason rubbed the large bruise on the right hand side of his face.
“You were lucky.” Nash inspected him closely. “Doesn’t seem like any major damage to that face of yours. Ensign Robinson will be pleased.”
Jason ignored him. “What the hell happened to us?”
“The Bombay detonated a tritonium torpedo off our bow.”
“Off our bow? It didn’t hit us?”
“No.”
Jason couldn’t make sense of it. “It’s as if they didn’t want to destroy us.”
Nash nodded in agreement. “It did enough damage. When you were knocked out, I transferred the helm to my station and brought the ship back to equilibrium.”
Jason surveyed the command deck. A team of medics had arrived from the Sickbay. One came up to him and sprayed a healing agent on his face. After waving the medic away, he peered down into the command pit. He immediately leaped from his seat at the scene of destruction.
Fallen beams, cables and twisted metal had crushed the command station at the center of the pit. On the other side of it four medics and Chief Lin stood solemnly around a pair of bodies. Jason rushed down to them as they placed sheets over Captain Pizzeri and Commander Riggs.
Chief Lin stopped him before he could reach them and the numbness of Jason’s face ran down his body. “I’m in command.”
Lin nodded, clearly doing his best not to show any emotion. “Yes.”
Everyone around the command deck stared at him, while the medics put Pizzeri and Riggs on stretchers, and walked them off the command deck.
“We can mourn the fallen later.” The Chief grabbed Jason by the arm and pulled him in. “Now it’s time to finish what we started.”
It was sage advice as usual. Jason straightened his back, cleared his throat, and turned to Ensign Kennebeck. “Damage report.”
She waved away a blonde lock of hair. “Propulsion and weapons are down. Three decks are crippled, but emergency bulkheads are holding. Damage control teams are en route to the most affected areas of the ship.”
“Casualties?”
She did a double take on her monitor, doing her best to keep her composure. “Current projections are at least twenty people.”
Jason closed his eyes. Grieve later. He reopened them and turned to Ortega. “What about the Bombay?”
“They’re still on the same course. Heading straight for the nebula. They’ll enter the outer layer in four minutes.”
“It got them the time they needed.”
Lin raised an eyebrow as if a lightbulb blinked on in his head. “The torpedo. Tyrell didn’t want to destroy us. He wanted to give himself time to escape.”
Jason couldn’t answer why someone from the Centauri rebellion wouldn’t want to destroy their enemy. It was a question for another day.
“If they enter that nebula, we’ll lose him,” Nash said from the upper level.
Jason had already studied TPA-338’s profile knowing it was impervious to scans. Once an object entered the nebula, they’d be unable to find it. And considering it measured three light-years across, it was a great hiding place. “Then we won’t let him get away.”
Nash and Lin looked at each other. “What plan are you cooking up, Cassidy?” Lin asked.
Without answering, Jason hurried up the steps to the upper level and activated the ship’s intercom on Ortega’s console. “Cassidy to Hangar Deck.”
“Howe here. Go ahead,” the Raptor’s gruff but loveable deck chief responded over the din of activity.
“What’s your situation down there?”
“We took a hell of a beating—”
“Is the hangar door still operational?”
“Yeah. Surprisingly.”
“What about a pod?”
There was a brief silence. “Most of them were thrown around when we were hit by the shock wave. But I can probably rustle up Pod Three for you.”
“Thank you, Chief. Make it quick. I’ll be down soon. Cassidy out.”
On the scanners the Bombay’s blip had continued moving ever closer to the outer layer of the nebula.
“You’re going after him in a pod?” Nash said incredulously. “Your scanners won’t work. You’ll be blind as a bat in there.”
Jason tried not to roll his eyes at Nash stating the obvious. “You’re right, but with any luck, considering how dense that nebula is, the Bombay should create a wake in its path.”
Lin smiled. “Like an old ship on one of Earth’s oceans.”
“Exactly.”
Nash shook his head. “It’s risky.”
Jason couldn’t argue with that. “Yes, but they’ll be just as blind as me. If I can find the Bombay, I’ll be able to attach a homing beacon to their hull. When they come up for air, whether it be tomorrow, next week, or next month, we’ll have their position. That is unless you have any other ideas.”
His friend brushed sweat from his brow and shook his head. “I guess it’s our best bet.”
“There is one problem,” Lin remarked.
“Oh?” Jason turned to the chief.
“The pilot of the pod,” he whispered. “It can’t be you.”
“But—”
“We’ve lost our commanding officer and XO; we can’t afford to lose our second officer as well.”
Jason hadn’t considered that. It was his plan. His life to risk. He’d never had to make the decision to send anyone in his place before. And, frankly, didn’t want to start now.
“It has to be me,” Nash said.
Jason especially didn’t want to send his best friend.
Lin nodded. “He’s right. He’s the next most senior pilot.”
Jason opened his mouth to fight it. He was, after all, in command, but Lin was also right. He was always right. The commanding officer needed to be on the command deck of his ship. And they couldn’t give Tyrell any more of a head start.
He turned to Nash, his eyes piercing his friend’s. “Go get the bastard.”
It’d been over an hour since Nash left the Raptor and entered Nebula TPA-338. With the command station a wreck, Jason transferred all command functions to the navigation station. He paced the upper level, occasionally eyeing the scanners. He wasn’t looking at anything in particular. With Nash’s pod inside the nebula, the scanners were useless. But it somehow felt like he was doing something.
While Captain Pizzeri had discussed Jason’s willingness for a pathway to command after the war, it was now the furthest thing from his mind. He just wished he could be in that pod, in his best friend’s place.
“Lieutenant,” Kennebeck said, “I’m getting a commlink from inside the nebula.”
“Nash?”
She nodded.
“Let’s hear it.”
“Nash… Raptor… in.”
Jason breathed a sigh of relief along with everyone else on the command deck, even if the commlink was riddled with interference. “Can you clean that up?”
Kennebeck nodded and ran her hands over her console.
“Can you read us, Nash?”
“Loud and clear. Mostly,” echoed his voice. The transmission was stronger, but there was still a lot of static.
“Report.”
“I’ve been able to follow the Bombay’s wake; the farther I go in, the less it’s dispersing.”
“You must be getting cl
ose.”
“Agreed.” The static crackled again. “I…”
There was silence. Jason turned to Kennebeck. “What now?”
Her eyes narrowed at the readings before her. “I don’t know. It’s as if something else is interfering with the commlink.”
Lin came up behind her and studied her monitor shrugging his shoulders in befuddlement.
Jason turned to Ortega. “Can you trace it?”
The combat officer looked at his station and shook his head.
“Nash, have you found the Bombay?” Jason asked, attempting to get a response.
More silence followed. Then a crackle. “I’ve found—”
A loud boom cut off Nash’s voice.
Then silence.
Everyone turned to the viewport at the light and gas blasting outward from inside the nebula. Ortega prodded at his console and magnified an image of a large chunk of twisted debris.
On its side, it read: POD-3.
The wreckage of Nash’s craft danced against the gaseous backdrop and Jason’s mind seemed to leave his body. His mouth quivered and his legs gave way, throwing him to the deck.
You son of a bitch, Nash.
Three Years Later
One
Decium Ore Mining Facility - Orion V
Erik Koeman peered out of the large viewport over the mysterious landscape of Orion V. With its dim singular celestial satellite, the majority of light that reached the surface was that of the Orion sun. The lengthy shadows of the rocky mountain ranges created an eerie but spectacular vista. At the edge of the horizon, a massive front of wind pushed up the fine dark dirt on the almost tarmac-like surface. He’d been on Orion V long enough to know a storm was brewing. Whenever the lightning struck and the tornadoes twisted, he couldn’t help but think of home. When was the last time I was in Kansas?