STAR FRONTIER: BEYOND THE VEIL
A Space Opera Adventure
Copyright © 2012 Hamish Spiers
All rights reserved.
The right of Hamish Spiers to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted to him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. With the exception of fair use for the purposes of criticism or review as permitted under copyright legislation, no part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or otherwise, without written permission from the author.
ISBN: 978-0-9871162-2-2
First published: 2012
This edition published: 2017
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
Table of Contents
Copyright Page
Star Frontier: Beyond the Veil
Prologue
1. A Strange Request
2. Special Visitors
3. Everyone On Board
4. Lessons on the Minstrahn
5. A Grim Discovery
6. Omens
7. The Minstrahn Empress
8. Maia, Zak and Drackson Depart
9. The Lords And Ladies
10. Arrival on Felarias
11. Separate Missions
12. Find and Capture
13. Communications Down
14. Several Reunions
15. Minstrah Under Fire
16. The Triumvirate
17. Preparations
18. A Fight on Two Fronts
19. Catastrophe Averted
20. Many Farewells
Epilogue
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
This book is dedicated to, among others, my wife Erin, my son Jason and finally to my brother Rob for his indispensable feedback and advice on this book and others.
Prologue
The slender vessel shot out of lightspeed, hurtling towards its destination, a small orbital station sprouting burning clouds of escaped air.
“I hope that we have not arrived too late,” one of the men on board said as they drew closer to the damaged satellite.
The captain grimaced. “We shall see. Arm yourself.”
The man bowed and left the cockpit, while the captain switched on the communicator. “Eramen Station. Is there anyone there who can respond?”
“I can respond, although my time is short,” came a reply. “You appear on our radar. Do you come alone?”
“More shall come,” the captain assured him. “We have raised the alert. However, until they arrive, we must do what we can in their stead to assist you.”
“Watch ou-”
A barrage of lasers from one of the station’s main defensive turrets tore through one of the wing struts, disabling the port stabilizer engine. The captain wove the ship out of the way to avoid a second barrage.
“Why did you fire on us?” he demanded, half in shock, half in anger.
“I tried to warn you,” the other said. “They have taken over the station defenses.”
The captain turned to a woman beside him. “Relay that to the others. I’ll let Akaeil know.”
“Shall we attempt to disable those turrets?” she asked as she set up the long-range signal.
The captain shook his head. “We cannot, my friend. Not in this ship. However, Akaeil and his men may be able to reach the turret controls within the station.” He eyed the blazing structure. In a few minutes, there might not be much left anyway. “Maybe.”
It was not easy to bring the vessel in close to the station, not after losing that stabilizer. However, the captain was well practiced in simulated emergencies similar to this and with a little compensation, he managed to bring it into a docking shaft where magnetic moorings caught it and held it in position. Once it was steady, a tube extended to the hatchway that would allow Akaeil and the others to enter the station. The captain gave a sigh of relief. At least the docking mechanisms were still functional. If the damaged sections of the station could be isolated, then perhaps the facility could be saved.
“Akaeil?” he asked, switching on the cabin communicator. “Are you and your men ready to disembark?”
“We are ready.”
“The station’s turret controls have been taken over by the saboteurs. If you -”
“I shall do what I can.”
“May fortune smile upon you, my friend.”
“And you.”
Akaeil adjusted his wrist guards. The five other men who were with him all wore similar armor. A helmet and torso plate along with shoulder, wrist, thigh and shin guards. It was lightweight and with a glossy blue hue, quite stylish too, as practicality and elegance were equally valued by his people.
With a nod to his men, he opened the hatch and they made their way into the station.
They soon reached a sealed bulkhead. Whether it was sealed off because the next section of the station had been opened to space or whether the saboteurs were trying to thwart them was not certain. However, it did call for some caution on their part. In preparation, they activated small side switches on their helmets, enclosing them with full visors and gas masks. As opening the bulkhead might suck out all the oxygen in the room, they also activated small air canisters that were clipped on their belts, opening their valves to allow air to cycle to their masks.
Finally, they tethered themselves to each other with a retractable cable and locked the end onto a protrusion further down the corridor. With a touch to his wrist, Akaeil flicked out a blade that ran the length of his gauntlet and a powerful current flowed along its edge, giving it a blue glow. It was essentially like the shield of a ship in miniature, although a ship’s shield gave no glow apart from the occasional ripple of an impact. But while a ship’s shield was used as a protective measure, the same technology could be used as a weapon and by slicing along the edges of the bulkhead, the miniature shield of Akaeil’s glowing blade seared through the seals, releasing the hatch.
The panel then shot into the ceiling with a hiss and their fears were realized. With a roar, the air in the corridor was sucked through the open hatchway and out through a gaping hole. Fortunately, their line held but they had to act quickly. After blowing about for a couple of moments, they planted their heels hard against the deck to get some leverage. Akaeil then nodded to one of his men, who waved what appeared to be a long stick in the direction of the breach and held down a trigger mechanism, firing a thick sticky webbing that stretched over it. For a few seconds, it expanded like thick liquid, covering everything in its reach and then it solidified. The sound of air being sucked into the vacuum of space stopped and the group released the cable they had tethered themselves with.
“Keep that ready,” Akaeil said to the man with the stick as they moved down the corridor. He inspected the now solidified webbing and, satisfied that no more air was escaping through it, moved on to the next door.
They tethered themselves once more and planted their feet firmly on the deck. Akaeil hit the door release and the hatch slid open. The next area was fine.
Releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, he gave the nod to the rear member of the group to unhook the tether cable and then proceeded to see what lay ahead.
“Schematics!” one of the men exclaimed, rushing over to a computer terminal.
“Where are we?” Akaeil asked him.
“Here,” the man replied, gesturing to a point on the screen. “Section 14 Deck D. Section 15 is damaged. Decks B to E. Section 16, where we entered, is fine, except for Deck C. Section 17 is fine. Sections 3 to 7 are in pretty bad shape however. It looks like external damage.”
“We didn’t see an
y ships on the way in, did we?” another member of the team asked Akaeil.
Akaeil shook his head. He had been in the cockpit on their initial approach. “No. But that is not to say that there aren’t any ships out there. Where is the control room?” He shook his head. “Where is everybody else?”
The man at the console shook his head. “It doesn’t look good. We’re more or less in the tech areas. The main areas of the station were the ones that were the most heavily damaged. The control room is here in Section 9, Deck C.”
“Then let us make haste,” Akaeil said. “Any more breaches on the way?”
“No, but remember what the captain said about the saboteurs controlling the station defense turrets?”
“What about it?”
“There are turret controls in Section 11 on that same deck. Also, there’s another docking shaft in Section 12.”
“Their escape ship! Quickly now. If we hurry, we may catch them!”
“This is Knight Commander Tanas. Is there anyone receiving this?”
The captain of the small patrol ship that was currently docked in the Eramen orbital station sat up straight and pressed a switch on the communicator console. “This is Captain Delari, Patrol Vessel 995-HN1. I receive you.”
“We are one assault cruiser and two patrol cruisers. How can we assist?”
“I do not know,” Captain Delari said. “I have been unable to raise the commanding officer on board this station. We spoke briefly on my approach, but he said he didn’t have much time. I have six men inside the station, attempting to reach the control room.”
There was a brief pause. “Tell them to return to your ship quickly. Then leave straightaway!”
“That may be their ship now,” the commander of the assault cruiser said, pointing at the viewscreen. A ship was exiting one of the docking tubes, although it appeared to be some type of private vessel.
Knight Commander Tanas shook his head. “No. They’re the saboteurs. Launch our Chargers... No. Wait.”
“My commander?”
“They will never catch them,” he said, walking over to the communicator. “However, I demand an explanation. Surely they would not deny us that.”
“Wretches!” he bellowed as he put out an invasive signal on the communicator. “What is the meaning of this?”
There was no reply.
“Cowards. I know that you can hear me. I ask you again, what is the meaning of all this destruction? What purpose does it serve to destroy this station?”
This time, one of the saboteurs replied. “The station was nothing. Look to your young lord.”
The bridge fell silent and Tanas watched as the saboteurs’ vessel disappeared and the station crumpled in its burning death throes. There was one fragment of solace to be taken from the scene, another small vessel escaping from the blaze.
“Commander, open a hangar and direct that patrol vessel to dock with us. Communications, raise Lord Ilian’s ship.”
“There is nothing, my commander,” came the reply a moment later.
“Try the Kephelian local command. And put it on the loud speaker, if you would.”
“Yes, my commander.”
When the signal came through, the desperation in the voice of the man on Kephelia was obvious. “My commander! We have been trying to raise you for almost twenty minutes. They put through a jamming signal and -”
“Who?” Tanas asked, taking his seat. There was nothing to gain through worrying now, he knew. Resigned, he prepared to hear the rest of the news. “Who was jamming you?”
“We... we don’t know. My commander, they came right after you left. They started jamming our signals, then they boarded the Lord Ilian’s ship and -”
“They destroyed it?”
“No, my commander. They stole it.”
“With the Lord Ilian still on board?”
The other man sighed. “Yes, my commander.”
1. A Strange Request
Admiral Gilham Roth, Supreme Commander of the Federation Naval Forces, made his way through the corridors of the Corsidan central command center. It seemed a little busier than usual today, although as far as he was aware, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. That was unless the new minister of security was going to throw a new job his way... which, on reflection, seemed highly possible since Serec hadn’t said why he wanted to see him.
Overall, Roth liked Serec. He was a good man and very open in his dealings with the navy. And if he had any failing in his role, it was only that he was too timid. After Corinthe’s flagrant abuses of the privilege of his position, Serec had taken great pains to avoid treading on anyone’s toes. Everyone appreciated it of course. Because even though the minister of security no longer had the heightened emergency powers that Corinthe had exploited, an upstart in the position could still cause headaches for everyone. However, Roth wished Serec wasn’t so apologetic all the time. He wasn’t Corinthe. He didn’t need to atone for the man’s crimes.
Roth reached the meeting room and hit the door release.
“Ah, Admiral,” Serec greeted him, rising from one of the seats at an otherwise empty conference table. “Come in.”
They shook hands then sat opposite one another.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Serec said. “I have to say, I haven’t really had much time to get my head around this myself.”
“So, what is ‘this’ exactly?”
“Well, it’s all rather strange, to tell you the truth. The other day, we had some visitors. A small shuttle arrived in orbit with a delegation to the President. I was present as well and as it was such an unusual delegation, I think the President would have wanted my presence anyway.”
“Unusual how?”
“Well, they didn’t give any advanced notification of their arrival,” Serec explained. “They just arrived here and said that they wished to speak to the President at her earliest possible convenience. Also, when I first saw them, I could not recognize where they were from. They were human but their manner of dress just seemed a little different. Rather more ceremonial than practical, I thought. Anyway, after the necessary security checks and procedures had been carried out, the President met with them and they told her they were from the Minstrahn Empire.”
“Interesting. And they were sincere in your opinion?”
“I think so. I later looked through the old archives to find anything we had on the Minstrahn and I found images taken quite some time ago of Minstrahn ceremonial dress. And it was similar to what these people were wearing. Obviously, their dress was an alteration of the older style but the similarity was unmistakable. Also, the manner in which they spoke seemed very telling. It’s our language... or ours is theirs... Apparently, there’s some disagreement between various historians on this point.”
“Yes, I’m familiar with the controversy,” Roth said. “Did the Minstrahn colonize Corsida or were their worlds colonized by us? I think however, most historians agree that we have a shared ancestry but have, over a period of centuries, developed independent societies with distinctively different cultures. However, these diplomats. Now, while they spoke the same language as us, there were some differences in the manner in which they used it, is that what you were going to tell me?”
“Yes,” Serec said. “Their manner of speaking was a little strange somehow. All perfectly understandable, of course, but not the way you or I speak. Finally, I considered the notion that the delegation could have been a group of actors. However, I couldn’t see what anyone could gain from putting on such a charade.”
“It depends on what the delegation said they wanted of course.”
“Well, there is a risk that it could all be part of an elaborate trap,” Serec confessed. “And I must admit that even though I trusted this group of people, I’m a little... Well, I’m a little uneasy about the whole business, to tell you the truth.”
“Why don’t you tell me the rest of it?”
“Yes, of course. It seems that our aloof neig
hbors have somehow learned about the whole messy business with my predecessor. Perhaps some of the resident Minstrahn who live among us told others back home, but I’m not really certain. Anyway, as you can imagine, the Minstrahn are not happy that Corinthe and his associates used them as unwitting scapegoats in his war mongering. It seemed that the delegation was simply after an official apology and the President, on the behalf of the Federation, gave them one, but...”
“Yes?” Roth prompted.
“Well, she told the delegation that if there was anything the Federation could do for them as a gesture of faith, that our people would be more than willing to do it. The President was just trying to smooth things over but I think the delegation was waiting for such an offer the entire time. In fact, it seems that this was the real reason behind their visit.”
“So they took that offer very literally then, did they?”
“You could say that.”
“So what did they ask of the Federation after all of that?”
Serec shook his head. “This is the part that I’m still puzzled about. They said they had an internal problem and they would be grateful for the intervention of a non-biased third party, such as the Federation, to solve it. But they didn’t say what the problem was. They just said they would be promptly returning to their people and that they very much wanted the Federation to send an envoy to the Minstrahn Empire to see the problem firsthand.”
Roth leaned back in his chair.
“And now they are gone and the President has asked me to prepare this envoy,” Serec finished. “And I thought you’d be the best man to talk to. What do you make of it?”
“Well, a commitment is a commitment,” Roth replied, “whoever we have made it to. If you’re asking me, I am more than happy to assemble an envoy. However, since we don’t know what we’re heading into, I think it would be wise to have some precautionary firepower. Did the delegation put any limitations on this envoy?”
“Not really. Although, sending in an armada would probably be out of the question.”
“Agreed. However, we could take in several ships for our own protection. I am sure that under the circumstances, our friends would understand this. Also, I would have a task force standing by just outside the border to be called in if necessary. Now, I haven’t checked on our shipyards at Usile for a while but I believe repair work -”
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