GALAXY AT WAR: Three Space Opera Adventures for the Price of One! Read online

  Anki shook the thought from her mind and reached for her com-unit. There was one thing the dispatcher was right about. She needed to say goodbye to her family. Or at least the only family she had left. Her father.

  She initiated the call, listening for the deep voice of her father to answer, but instead she was transferred to a message collector. She always felt foolish leaving a message, but this time it was important. “Hello, Father. I hope you are well. I have received orders to deploy and the Navy is giving me a few days to visit before I depart. I’m going to schedule a transport home. I look forward to seeing you. I love you,” she closed the connection and continued her way to Port Carreo’s transport station. When she arrived the line was already long. It was clear that many of the people had received the same departure orders she had and Anki couldn’t help but feel these were the people she would be going to war with, to give their lives to defend Luthia, or better yet have their enemies die for their planet.

  It took almost an hour to arrange transport from Port Carreo to Surda. Even though it was half the world away, the transport time would be short and had no layovers. She could at least be thankful for that. She received her ticket. The departure time scheduled for early morning. With nothing better to do other than wait, Anki made her way back to her dorm. It was odd not having any friends on station, but even growing up she had been an oddity, not socially awkward, just reserved and enjoying her time alone more than being surrounded by distractions. Maybe that was why joining the Luthian Navy seemed like an easy choice, she thought as she lay on the bed and closed her eyes. Anki had no regrets in life, and she hoped she would leave none behind if she was to die, but loose ends had a way of becoming frayed. She knew more than anyone else, that she needed to see her father before stepping foot off Luthia. It was something on her heart she just now was willing to admit. And as her thoughts drifted home to Surda, to her father, she fell asleep to a place where dreams often haunted her with the same images as the screens depicted each day. There was no rest from the images of war, only a small reprieve from the action depicted.

  Chapter 4: Brendle

  Sleeping on a ship was a lot like sleeping in a coffin, enclosed on five sides with a curtain for privacy. It was hard to get used to, but eventually you evaporated into your own little world apart from life on the ship. Of course the number of men and women confined to a berthing was greater in the enlisted ranks, but not a lot changed in the design of the living space, save for quantity of personnel occupying the space. Even having his own quarters, privileged to be alone with assured privacy, the rack he slept in was assembled just like the others on the Telran. Brendle had a hard time sleeping when he first checked onboard. The noises woke him up, as did the fear of collision or a loss of atmosphere sucking the life nurturing oxygen from his lungs. It seemed that everything was a frightening, worst-case scenario for a new officer checking onboard his first ship. Like most people, he eventually became desensitized to the inherent danger. Finding distractions helped, but in the long run it consumed more energy to be afraid all the time than it did to just ignore the risk and go on about your business. Ignorance is bliss as some might say. Sleep came more easily as time passed, but he still found himself waking up every couple of hours, stirred by some quiet thing that disappeared as quickly as it appeared to interrupt his slumber. The fear was replaced with inconsistent sleep cycles and it was something he had gotten used to, begrudgingly.

  There was no day or night in the expanse of space, but the ship carried on a schedule that replicated the time cycles of Greshia. Of course, the delay in communications made it tricky to coordinate back home with any kind of real schedule, but most of the crew made do. The most common trick was to send a message before going to bed and then waking to a reply, something nice from home to start your day. It didn’t always work out like that, but more often than not it was the easiest form of communication off ship. There was one tricky thing about sending and receiving information on a military war vessel, which was that everything was tracked. Privacy didn’t exist beyond the two-way mirror between you and the recipient while someone else oversaw the data coming and going. Most messages were innocent enough, but with the rapid expansion of critical information bouncing around the Alorian Galaxy, you could never be too careful. If an enemy had hold of information about the whereabouts of a Greshian ship then they might be able to claim some kind of advantage by taking offensive action. It wasn’t likely, but the threat of one day becoming likely was an ever-growing concern. That was a detail Brendle had not considered when he sent the video message to his mother, and it was something which would come to haunt him.

  Sleep came heavy after so many days in the dark, extended watch hours drifting one into another for an undermanned ship meant everyone was operating at sixty-percent wakefulness and forty-percent sleep deprivation. That was how it was always done, though. You just adapted and overcame, or you had a mental breakdown and hurt yourself like Chief Naron did in the armory a few months back. The main thing is that everyone wandered about in the same daze most of the time until their bodies finally crashed and quenched its thirst for sleep by shutting down. Brendle was about due for an involuntary sleep like that leading up to the last few days, but his body hadn’t succumbed to it in time. Instead, he was operating with a fragile mental capacity that he and no one else seemed to realize. Perhaps that wasn’t entirely true.

  The sounds of the ship creaking and groaning as it hurdled its way across the Alorian Galaxy became nothing more than the numb rumblings one grew used to over time. Brendle hardly heard any of them anymore. In his sleep he dreamed of Greshia, of his home he left behind and what it must look like now. He dreamed of his mother as she was in his youth, though. Maybe it was something comforting about how he remembered her before he grew into becoming a man. Maybe it was some underlying meaning about what he was missing transcribed by his subconscious. He didn’t know. He just fell into those dreams until something pulled him out of them. That something was the sensation of his arms being restrained before he was hauled out of his rack.

  “What’s going on?” he shrieked. The hands holding him to the deck shoved harder, grinding his body onto the cold hard surface. “What−” He was cut off by the voltage induced into his neck by one of his assailants, a man named Ilium.

  “How about we keep that big mouth of yours shut, traitor?” The men holding Brendle down laughed and began dragging him out of his dorm by his limp arms. Ilium stood, electro-pod in his hands, and a grim smile on his face. He gave Brendle a wink as he watched the man being dragged to the brig by two Security Chiefs. There was a light of satisfaction in his eyes for the briefest of moments before his mask returned. Brendle saw it, but could say nothing.

  Brendle’s eyes grew heavy, but it wasn’t from weariness or being woken from a deep sleep. It was the loss of control of his body from the shock he received. His heart was pounding, both from fear and the anxiety of being assaulted in his sleep. Being dragged with his arms lifted above his head and the weight of his body dragging against the hard deck made it hard for him to breathe, he felt the need to gasp, but he couldn’t manage to position his body in a way to pull in enough air. He could hardly see through the tears welling in his eyes that he couldn’t wipe away with his arms bound. He blinked hard and looked up into the eyes of the Telran’s Security Officer, who followed with a cocky gait.

  “Ensign Brendle Quin, you are under arrest for treason by order of the Commanding Officer of the Telran and with the authority of the Greshian Naval Command. You will be remanded until such time that an investigation into your guilt or innocence can be completed and the Commanding Officer carries out disposition,” Ilium said. The man bent down to look Brendle in the eye, the fight to maintain some semblance of a straight face evident in the way his lips curled slightly. His eyes were a bold shade of blue, which contrasted against his dark hair in a way that made him look all the more sinister. “You can fight us if you want to, but we’re just looking for a r
eason to lose you in the dark.” Ilium’s words were nothing more than a whisper. The smile that followed wasn’t much less than a shout for attention as Brendle immediately understood all the ways he was screwed.

  The walk to the brig was as unceremonious an event as could be expected in the middle of the evening shift. Only three sailors saw Brendle as he was led, arms bound and surrounded by guards, but he was too nervous to be embarrassed. “I don’t understand what’s going on,” he said. The answer came in the form of a nudge from behind. Most likely the object used to shove him was a gun capable of turning his insides into his outsides. The thought of such a thing made him repress further questioning, not that those questions didn’t burn for answers in the back of his mind. It felt like every gear was churning in his mind at once and all he really understood was that he had woken up to being arrested for treason and he had no idea in what universe he could have committed such an act. The other thing he knew was that Ensign Ilium was having a hard time not flashing a toothy grin in his direction every few seconds. It was almost as if it was a personal victory for the Security Officer, Brendle thought.

  Brendle found his cell waiting. It was relatively large as far as confinement was concerned, but it wasn’t exactly welcoming. The cell was nothing more than three plain white walls and a barren deck void of any furnishings. There was no door to the cell, but he knew that wasn’t likely to last. As soon as he crossed the threshold the sound of electrons scorching atmosphere filled his ears. It was a delicate sound, a light sizzle to ears that recognized what it was. He turned to face the Security Officer on the other side of the barrier. Ilium looked like he was on the opposite side of an aquarium except there was no water between them. It was an electronic barrier capable of incapacitating him if he tried to step through it. It wasn’t likely to kill him, but it was likely to hurt a lot. Brendle had seen the damage done to a prisoner who kept jumping into the electric field trying to escape. Third degree burns had charred the man’s skin, resulting in severe nerve damage. The man had lived, but his life was forever changed, and that man had been held prisoner because his shipmates were concerned for his wellbeing after he spoke about wanting to commit suicide, not because he was being charged with a crime. The gruesome imagery of what had happened to that man sent a chill down Brendle’s spine. He stepped away from the electric barrier without realizing it.

  Ilium smiled the same way he always did, something wicked and deceptive to everyone except Brendle. He had seen through Ilium’s shit from the moment they met. “I hope you enjoy your new quarters. At least as long as you’re allowed to live within them. The captain is sending up your charges to Central Command. It’s rather cut and dry. Once they review the evidence, you will be trialed for treason. I get the duty of tossing you out the airlock and into the dark, so things are looking up for me. You on the other hand…not so much.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” Brendle said. He was ashamed at the sound of pleading in his voice. He swallowed hard and fought the urge to cry. It was hard to maintain composure when your life was hanging on the line.

  “I don’t think I care,” Ilium replied.

  Brendle stopped himself from stepping forward where the barrier gave the illusion of dancing before his eyes. His heart beat hard enough he was sure Ilium could hear it too. “You’re the law on this ship. Shouldn’t you care?” it was an accusation worded as delicately as possible.

  Ilium shrugged, the smile never fading from his face as he turned away. He stopped at the hatch, the last barrier between the brig and the rest of the ship. Without turning he said, “Most prisoners are afforded a mattress to sleep, but since you were already sleeping we figured you were rested enough for the day. We’ll think about allowing you a mattress tomorrow night provided you cooperate in the morning.”

  “Cooperate with what?” Brendle asked, the anxiety hanging heavy on his heart.

  Ilium touched the pad next to the hatch and it opened before him. He canted his head slightly as he stepped through and looked back at Brendle. Their eyes bore into each other’s for a long moment, the silence more profound than any words either of them could ever say. Ilium had always struck Brendle as a smug bastard, but this was taking it to a whole new level. Brendle couldn’t help but think Ilium was enjoying himself a lot. After a long moment of silence Ilium spoke. “You’ll see,” he said as the hatch closed, leaving Brendle alone and wondering how he came to find himself in this situation.

  Chapter 5: Anki

  Visiting home was like having the oxygen in the room sucked out. It was relatively comfortable until you realized you couldn’t breathe. That was how Anki felt as the transport landed, bringing her once again to the city she thought she had left behind. She had no ill will towards home, but neither did she feel like she belonged there anymore. The only thing she had in the rundown city of Surda was her father, and he made it clear that he wanted more for her than what little Surda had to offer. That was why joining the Luthian Navy had seemed so glamorous. She could leave her past behind and start a future for herself, or die protecting the only person in her life who was ever really there for her.

  As she stepped off the transport, Anki could see what a couple of years of training had changed about her opinion of Surda. What once had been a bustling area was quickly turning into a slum. No one admitted that the economy was crashing in support of the Alorian Wars, but the truth was the government dumped all of their hope into a naval force and no one knew if it could even stand up to the Greshian oppressors. She didn’t like thinking of it that way, that the Luthians were fighting a losing war, but every time she saw the video feeds and the returning troops torn to pieces, a part of her spirit died. She would never turn her back on her world, but it was becoming clearer to her that she might not have a world by time the wars were over.

  She side-stepped past a group of derelicts as she turned down a narrow alley leading her towards the heart of Surda. She never understood why they would put the transports on the outskirts of the city leaving the commuters to pass through the harshest parts of the region in order to do commerce. Anki wasn’t nervous about being a lonely woman in such a desolate area. The training she received could neutralize anything any aggressor could hope to use against her. If anything, they were the ones in danger by her presence. It didn’t make her feel any more love for what her home was becoming, though.

  The alley opened into main streets leading closer to downtown where her father was. As the streets opened up, she could see how rundown everything had become. There was a closed shop for every three open ones as she made her way through the busy crowd. Surda had once been an epicenter for trade, but now it was dying, a visual indication of how Luthia was dying on the inside. Anki pushed the thought back. It seemed every time she put up walls to defend against that kind of thinking, something else would trigger in her mind and lay waste to her defenses. This was why it had been so long since she visited her father. The mental warfare of seeing how quickly her world was fading didn’t make the looming deployment an easier pill to swallow. If anything, it made it worse. Why couldn’t he have come to visit her in Port Carreo? It was a stupid question. She knew why.

  The elder Paro’s home was just off the beaten path, its back turned to the downtown distractions. It was a tall rundown building that once knew glory days long before news spread of Greshian invasion. There was a time when the universe was too expansive to traverse. Technology meant to aid life was doing more to end it on a global scale than anyone wanted to admit. Now what should have taken several lifetimes took a number of days or weeks thanks to the slew of service stations populating the stars. The galaxy gained something in the way of information and convenience when the Ontorians developed the means to travel amongst the stars. History showed what they gave the combined Alorian citizens was a fate matched by their own when the Ontorians found Greshia. That was when the pendulum found a new direction to swing and history forever changed.

  The front door was heavy, just as it always had b
een, but the memory of how it felt opening was different than the experience of actually opening it. It was funny how the memory changed things, or maybe it was just time slowly dropping away the details of how things really are. The hinges groaned as it eased open, the weight of it fighting with the misshaped frame, a souvenir from a war long since forgotten. Anki pressed her hand against the wall as she climbed the tight narrow stairwell, the scent of dust tickling her nose. Her fingers found the grooves of years wearing away at the paint. They were the same faint lines created when her mother did the same thing so many years ago. She hardly remembered her mother anymore; the opportunity to remember was often unsettling. She imitated the learned habit as her mother used to do it. This was her way of remembering without having to endure the pain of loss. How many years had it been since her mother left, or died? Fifteen or more? Her mother existed in remnants of collected thoughts and pictures. She was as absent as Anki’s memory allowed and she thought it was better that way.

  The groan of old wood accompanied her steps as she ascended to the second floor. She could only imagine the thousands of footsteps she had made up and down these stars when she was growing up, ignorant of the world and even more so of the ever-enlarging universe. As a child there was no such thing as war, even when she knew that wasn’t true. But at least there was a part of the girl she had been that wasn’t aware of the finality of war. That girl had much to learn, Anki thought as she took the last step, stopping before her father’s apartment. She stared at the dull blue door that had been hers for so many years before she enlisted. Now it only seemed like a place she recognized, as impersonal as an acquaintance. She knew there was no need to do so, but she knocked anyway.