Transmuted (Dark Landing Series Book 1)

by Robin Praytor

  Sir James cleared his throat. “I am so sorry for your loss Miss Taleen . . . Captain Liu. An ESF squadron is on its way to meet the Essovius. One of its ships will continue to the coordinates you provided to learn if Commander Barnes was successful or not. We have reason to believe he was. In the meantime, no one has reported seeing a Diak ship, not even the four gunships you warned us about. Now, Chief Cutter, please.”

  “The armada is huge,” Drew began. “Barnes and I estimated more than ten thousand ships, as well as a base station roughly five times the size of Dark Landing. It’s sitting just beyond an asteroid field on the other side of the bridge we fell through. Their wormhole to Alliance space, if it’s still there, is nearby; close enough to measure in kilometers. When we left, they were forming battle groups.”

  Drew and Letty alternated telling their story, starting at the point they crossed into Diak space. Curtis broke in a few times with an added detail. Somewhere in the middle of their rendition, Nikko started snoring.

  ~ ~ ∞ ~ ~

  After ten hours sleep, the survivors were in the mess devouring their breakfasts when the ship’s klaxon sounded. Except for Nikko, they all stopped eating and looked up.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Drew said. Unexpectedly, Toby came around the table and climbed into his lap. Drew shrugged at Letty’s amused look as an announcement came over the speaker:

  All staff report to your stations. Everyone else stay where you are or go to your quarters. There are four Diak ships directly ahead of us.

  The ESF squadron was still more than a day out. As they braced in anticipation of the laser blast sure to come, the Essovius’s second in command entered the mess. “They’re just sitting there,” he reported. “Our scan didn’t detect life signs, but then our scanner isn’t the most sophisticated either. The captain’s talking to the ESF squadron commander now. He’s afraid if we retreat we might run into the full armada.”

  “You won’t detect any life signs,” Drew said.

  They pushed from the table and found their way to the public lounge. Along with others already gathered, they watched an enhanced view of the distant Diak gunships on the big monitor. Most passengers and crewmembers who didn’t have essential duties, stayed in the lounge for the next twelve hours. The mess staff delivered a continuous supply of drinks and snacks, but little was consumed. Everyone spoke in whispered tones and jumped at loud noises. Doing nothing but watching the ships that, presumably, were watching them, was fatiguing. Nothing on the screen changed. The Diak ships did not move. Eventually, people started to drift to their quarters to sleep, or head to the mess for something hot to eat.

  The audience reassembled when it was announced that the ESF squadron had finally arrived. One of the ESF ships broke off and escorted the Essovius further back while the remaining ships encircled the Diak recon unit. Thirty minutes passed without action and then, with no warning, the four Diak ships were blown to smithereens.

  Toby jumped up, his arms and fists extended above his head. “Yes . . . yes . . . hooray!” he yelled, starting an avalanche of cheers and applause.

  ~ ~ ∞ ~ ~

  The Security HQ conference room was full. Sir James led the meeting.

  “At the exact time Commander Barnes—may he rest in peace—closed the Diak bridge to our territory, their recon unit seems to have become inoperative, and nanoid-infected individuals throughout the Alliance burst . . . or exploded . . . however you prefer to describe it. More than eight hundred thousand have been reported so far. I don’t wish to minimize the gravity of the incident,” he said, “but that is a very small number in relation to the combined populations of the Alliance worlds. First responders and others who came into contact with the deceased remains are being rescanned, though it’s believed the nanoids were triggered to self-destruct upon loss of communication. I extend my condolences to anyone here today who lost a friend or loved one.

  “Our home planets teetered on the verge of extermination. If not for the actions of one exceptional man, it’s likely Dark Landing would be a memory and the populations of the Alliance planets would be staring down the muzzle of a Diak laser cannon when they awoke this morning.”

  “We’re sure the Diak don’t have another bridge into our space?” Rostenkowski asked.

  “The experts say no. When their wormhole closed, the link to their nanoids broke as well. If they had another bridge, it’s thought their signal would have persisted. Unfortunately, we can’t know conclusively.”

  “And going forward . . . ?” Rear Admiral Sullivan asked.

  “Going forward Alliance members and several of the non-aligned planets are forming a defense counsel along the lines of Muck, with the objective of building a combined military armada of our own. In the meantime, we remain on full alert.”

  “What are your plans for Dark Landing?” Curtis got the question in before Drew.

  “Earth intends to maintain the station as a military outpost, at least in the short term. Obviously, we’ve not had time to discuss the details. I’m proposing the station continue as a trade depot and scientific base. And that we outfit Spud to house the military contingent until the Alliance can build a dedicated military post in the Zeta Quadrant.”

  Sullivan spoke up. “My orders are to keep the two battleships and the ESF squadron here.” Sullivan looked at Lt. Commander William. He nodded. “Commander William’s unit is going to remain as well while Muck regroups.”

  Sir James wrapped-up. “Secretary Rostenkowski will return to Earth with the Reagan, and the Earth Defense Counsel will negotiate with Taleen Industries regarding TFS’s continued level of participation. I’ll stay in touch with each of you as matters progress. So . . . unless there are further questions . . . ?”

  With a few weak laughs, everyone shook their heads.

  “End transmission.” Sir James’s image faded from the screen.

  ~ ~ ∞ ~ ~

  Drew, Letty, and Curtis reconvened in the mezzanine bar.

  “We need to decide what to do with Toby,” Drew said.

  “You guys need to decide. I don’t care as long as he’s not underfoot here. Either of you want another drink?” Curtis entered his order for a refill, but Drew and Letty shook their heads.

  “I contacted my legal department a few days ago,” Letty said. “They found a great-great aunt, but she’s unwell and lives in a retirement home, in no condition to care for a child. As I understand it, she’s never met him. I’ve started the adoption process.”

  “Lucky kid. My parents are both dead. You can adopt me too,” Curtis said as he retrieved his drink from the chute.

  Letty laughed. “I overheard you speaking with your mother the day we returned to Alliance space.”

  “It’s a miracle,” Curtis quipped.

  “Do you really want to take on that responsibility?” asked Drew.

  “Yes, I do. I was too young to understand when my own parents died, and I was lucky enough to have a familiar and loving standby parent. Toby tries to hide it, but he misses his folks and he’s scared. I noticed you two have grown close, Drew.”

  “If you consider sharing a wet shuttle seat while we escaped from evil aliens close . . . yeah, sure.” He changed the subject. “So, Curtis, how’s the plan for your nightclub coming along?”

  “It’s on hold until I figure out what ESF has in store for Spud. If they turn it into a Space Force bivouac, I’ll have to shelve my project for a while.”

  “And Nikko . . . ?” Drew asked.

  “Letty can adopt him too.”

  “I’m visualizing Letty taking her three kids, Toby, Curtis, and Nikko to Planet Disney, and buying you all mouse ears.” Drew smiled at the image.

  “Hell,” Curtis said, “Letty probably owns Planet Disney.”

  Letty grew quiet and stared into her beer.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me!” Drew said.

  ~ ~ ∞ ~ ~

  After many delays, the Reagan was finally departing Dark Landing. Drew and Let
ty stood in a corner of the docking bay. They’d had a long, and for Drew disappointing, conversation the night before. He wasn’t willing to give up.

  He pulled her to him. Letty wrapped her arms around his neck, laying her head on his shoulder. “We went over this. You agreed we’re both messed up right now. Neither one of us knows what we really want. I love you, Drew, but sixty percent as a brother and only thirty-five percent romantically.”

  “Explain the other five percent again,” Drew said.

  “Sometimes you’re an ass.” She laughed. “We wouldn’t last a day.”

  “Yeah, but I can’t stop imagining what we could do in that twenty-four hours.” Drew pressed his face into her hair; it smelled of orange blossoms. He pulled her closer. “I don’t think of you as a sister, Letty,” he said, his voice husky.

  “I know.”

  “Can I kiss you goodbye?”

  Letty raised her head, her mouth brushing his. He kissed her one-hundred percent and she responded well above the thirty-five percent she’d proclaimed. She’s still such a liar.

  When the Reagan was gone, Drew walked the station aimlessly, reflecting on all that’d happened and what he should do next. He couldn’t stay at Dark Landing, but he’d lost interest in joining the TSF. Both would remain under the control of Earth military for the foreseeable future.

  Letty was right, they were a mess or, at least, he was. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt confidence in his choices or proud of his accomplishments. Letty was the catalyst not the cause for the insecurities he faced. To be honest, he didn’t know if he was genuinely in love with her, at least in the way she deserved to be loved. He wanted her physically, no uncertainty there, but lusting after someone didn’t equate to being in love with them for the long run. And how much of his feelings, or hers, might be attributed to the situation that drew them together? What he needed now was time to himself.

  Among the fears with which he struggled was his bona fide cowardliness. He felt deep shame for being glad Travis Barnes died instead of him. Maybe glad was too strong a word . . . relieved. Still, he didn’t think he’d have the courage to make the sacrifice Barnes had made. And he couldn’t shake the sense of uselessness he’d felt when Barnes left the shuttle, knowing he was a dead man. He was envious; he wanted to be like Barnes. Hell, until now, I thought I was Barnes. When Letty had taken the controls of the shuttle through the short, but harrowing, wormhole run, all he could do was sit in the back with the others, holding Toby. And space still terrified him. Neither time nor circumstances had cured the problem.

  Then there was his poor judgement; his misplaced trust in Mattie and Fitz, and lack of faith in Curtis. I’m a mess all right. A cowardly, incompetent, fucked up mess. He stopped walking, finding himself in front of the hatch to his quarters.

  After a sleepless night, he made his decision. On the way to HQ, more light-hearted than he’d felt in months, he passed through the bazaar and noticed several early shoppers looking upward. The pigeon perched on the mezzanine rail. A small group to one side held signs reading, “Save Preston! Shoot Cutter!” He laughed and continued on his way, accompanied by boos from the demonstrators and fighting the urge to draw his blaster and turn the fucking bird into a shower of feathers. Not my problem anymore.

  Kyle sat at the shift commander’s desk. “Where’s Curtis?” Drew asked.

  “He’s working out of Fitz’s office this morning.”

  “Kyle, I think it’s time we start calling it the admin office, don’t you?”

  “Good idea. Old habits are hard to break.”

  “Truer words . . . I’ve got some things to take care of this morning. Can you keep the universe at bay for a couple hours?”

  “Can do.”

  “Thanks.”

  Drew entered his office and commanded the hatch closed behind him. He started with a letter of resignation to CoachStop. He apologized for not giving notice, especially since the chief of administration position still remained open, but he emphasized that the staff, even short-handed, could and had handled anything thrown at them. He recommended Curtis Walker for the chief of security position, praising him effusively. Even though the praise was earned, he’d come close to puking his gonads as he dictated the words.

  Not bothering with platitudes to Curtis, he included a script credit for half of his savings so Curtis might open his nightclub—or replenish his drug inventory. Whatever. It may have been a stupid move (it was a stupid move), but it made him feel right with Curtis somehow, and that was worth it. His note read simply: Good luck. Try not to be a total ass.

  He struggled over his goodbye to Doc, finally expressing how he felt as frankly as possible:

  Doc,

  You’re too young to be my mother and way too smart to be my lover. Somewhere in the middle of that gooey mess, I adore you. We made a good team . . . the three of us. I refuse to believe that Fitz was anything but the friend and colleague we both admired. That other thing was simply a Diak-controlled look-alike. I’ll miss you the most, but I know we’ll see each other again. Keep up the good works and take care.

  Love, Drew

  He spent the next hour tidying up his records, leaving comments where needed and tagging items requiring follow-up. He’d packed his duffel and booked the presidential suite on the Norwegian Princess. The suite came with a real-water shower and a personal attendant. Finished with his last-minute errands, he left HQ with just enough time to pick up his kit and board before the ship debarked. On her six-month tour she would visit each of the Alliance planets. Her final stop was at New Las Vegas and coincided with a satellite tournament for a seat in the Multi-World Series of Poker main event.

  He nodded to Kyle on the way out. “You’re a good man, Kyle.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Kyle said, bewildered.

  Drew smiled. He was taking a page from Curtis’s book, and it felt surprisingly good.

  Epilogue

  Letty had delivered Toby to school and was in her office, where she’d spent much of her time since their return to Earth, catching up on the past three months. With some soul-searching, she’d decided to accept her position on the Board of Directors, but only after confessing her self-doubts to Carl Evans, the new CEO, and naming him co-chairman. She needed someone she could count on for guidance.

  The Alliance markets were proving slow to recover from the Diak scare. The nanoids that infected their technology were easy to disable, but the fact the tech had been breached in the first place shook the Alliance members. Rebuilding military forces gone fallow for more than a century also exacerbated economic recovery for each race. And, worse, Fahdeenian’s were demanding a secession vote, though no one believed it would come to that.

  She was concentrating on financial reports, not her strong suit, when her assistant, Stephen, entered the office with a perplexed look.

  “This is interesting,” he said. “Someone using the David Jacobs’s alias charged passage on the Norwegian Princess against Jacobs’s expense account. Finance flagged it. That was the alias you assigned to Drew Cutter, wasn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you want me to have accounting deny the expense and close the account?”

  Letty didn’t answer immediately. She gazed out the penthouse window at the distant Golden Gate Bridge, closed for the last two hundred years to all but foot traffic.

  “No. Tell accounting I approve all charges without limit and have them send me weekly activity statements.”

  She smiled as she returned to work. Good for you Drew.

  The End

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  (Warning: This is where the begging begins.)

  Book reviews are crucial to all authors, but especially for a new author. Few readers will purchase a book that no one has reviewed. I hope you enjoyed Transmuted, but even if you didn’t, please take a moment to write an honest review. It doesn’t have to be lengthy or involved. If you’ve never written a review before, it can be as simple as one or two
sentences expressing what you liked and/or disliked about the story, the action, the humor, a particular character, or perhaps an unexpected plot turn. I will be forever grateful.

  Please follow me on Twitter: @robinpraytor; on Facebook: at Robin Praytor, Author; and, subscribe to my blog: Disclaimer: I Could be Wrong.

  If you liked Transmuted, you’ll love the continuing adventures of Dark Landing and its cast of characters in book two, Discoveries (available late 2017, or early 2018). The first chapter of Discoveries follows this commercial.

  Thanks for reading,

  Robin Praytor

  DISCOVERIES

  (Dark Landing Series, Book 2)

  ROBIN PRAYTOR

  Chapter 1: Winter Elf

  “So, what do you think?” Curtis asked, eager for Doc’s opinion. They sat side-by-side in the executive mess studying the unsmiling image of Austin Hargreaves on the table’s surface processor. To Curtis, she resembled a winter elf in a graphic novel he’d read. Long platinum-blonde hair framed pale, pixie-like features. Matching brows and lashes were mere suggestions, and her eyes were the oddest pale blue he’d ever seen. Yet, somehow those eyes projected an enthusiasm and energy disconcerting in a static image. He could see how some men might find her attractive. To him, she was ethereal and scary.

  Doc scanned CoachStop Management’s file on the incoming chief of administration. “She’s young—twenty-five—but, you’re only twenty-eight. You’re both whippersnappers. I’m the dinosaur.” She glanced to one side, frowning, as if she’d remembered something. “She earned her space safety degree at nineteen. So . . . smart too. What are you worried about? You and I get along, don’t we? Most of the time.”