Galactic Frontiers: A Collection of Space Opera and Military Science Fiction Stories

by Jay Allan

  Crash Landing

  By Ken Lozito

  The starship frigate was making a series of wormhole connections during the journey to the Confederation space station so Kladomaor decided to stop at the Protector’s designated work area away from the bridge. The Boxan stood over ten feet tall and the dark power armor he wore was a must, even for a mission such as this. Eventually he’d get standard fleet-issued equipment. He’d put in a requisition to transfer to a fleet command position and Battle Commander Jaedon had snatched him up, but officially he was still a Protector and part of the military elite force for the Boxan High Council. Eventually he was to be part of the Confederation Fleet, which boasted multiple alien species that had been cultivated into one harmonious Confederation.

  Kladomaor authenticated with the frigate’s systems using his Protector credentials because it was the only way he could access the encrypted channels for the latest security reports. Battle Commander Jaedon had told Kladomaor that it was his personal responsibility to ensure that their precious cargo arrived at the Confederation space station, and he’d served long enough to know the Battle Commander was testing him. Using the Protector net to get security-log information was beyond what any normal fleet officer should be required to do—or, indeed, have access to—but Kladomaor wanted to prove his worth to the Battle Commander. Jaedon was the ideal officer whose military career was lauded as what every young officer should strive to achieve.

  The holoscreen came on and Kladomaor began reviewing the reports from the inter-star system comms network. He dismissed the first few reports regarding fringe systems before seeing the one for the Qegi star system. Kladomaor frowned and opened up a secondary holoscreen. The Qegi star system wasn’t part of the Confederation and wasn’t due to join until the intelligent species that lived there had matured. The Star Shroud network should have isolated that system, but the ship traffic being logged was enough to rouse his curiosity. He brought up the latest logs and his frown deepened. Quickly closing the holoscreens, he headed toward the bridge. He needed to inform Battle Commander Jaedon of what he’d found while there was still time in normal space that they could change coordinates if they needed to.

  Kladomaor went onto the bridge and hastened straight to the Battle Commander’s couch.

  The Battle Commander looked up from his own personal display. “Kladomaor, you were due to report earlier. A Strike Commander should never be late to their post.”

  The Battle Commander glanced over at the Xiiginn sitting next to him, but Mar Arden was regarding Kladomaor curiously. The Xiiginns were a pale-skinned species with chiseled features and luminous violet eyes due to the fact that their species had evolved on a planet with a dim star. The Xiiginn could see in near darkness and had developed lenses to filter out the bright lights the Boxan’s preferred.

  “I apologize, Battle Commander. I stopped at the Protector’s command terminal and pulled the latest reports for the systems we needed to travel through on our way to the space station,” Kladomaor said.

  The Battle Commander frowned. “I wasn’t aware your credentials still worked.”

  “Only until we reach the space station and I’m formally transferred into the fleet, Battle Commander.”

  Jaedon nodded and glanced at his personal display.

  “What was in the reports, Strike Commander?” Mar Arden asked.

  Kladomaor glanced at the Xiiginn who was sitting with his long tail coiled several times around his middle. Xiiginns were not only among the first species cultivated into the Confederation by the Boxans but were also among the most trusted.

  “Ambassador,” Kladomaor said, acknowledging the Xiiginn and looking back at Jaedon. “Battle Commander, there are strange reports about the Qegi star system.”

  Jaedon frowned. “I’m unfamiliar with this system. It’s not in the Confederation.”

  “No, it’s home to a primitive species that has only just developed space-flight technology using chemical fuel propellant. The reports show two Boxan vessels entering into an armed conflict within the system,” Kladomaor said.

  “With whom?”

  “The report says they fired on each other,” Kladomaor said.

  “Impossible. Put the report up on the main screen,” Jaedon said.

  Kladomaor used his neural implants to send the report to the main holoscreen. Mar Arden rose from his seat and came to stand at Kladomaor’s side. Kladomaor looked back at Jaedon.

  “Battle Commander, I have an incoming distress call,” the comms officer said.

  “Let’s hear it,” Jaedon ordered.

  The message was of another ship that was experiencing issues with their main power generator and was in danger of crashing into a nearby moon.

  “Navigation, plot a course to that ship,” the Battle Commander said.

  The orders were confirmed.

  “But the report from the Qegi star system. Surely we should go investigate that,” Kladomaor said.

  Jaedon returned to the command couch. “You’re new to the fleet, so I’ll explain this once. There will be an investigation into the report from the Qegi star system, but it’s secondary to the immediate danger of the ship in the distress call. I’ll report it up to command central once we reach the space station, but my immediate concern is for the distressed ship. Their imminent danger is our highest priority and even supersedes the Tetronian Key for the Shroud Networks.”

  Kladomaor’s ears turned downward. “Of course, Battle Commander,” he said and went to stand off to the side. Clearly, he had a lot to learn. The Tetronian Key was being officially handed over to the Confederation. The Star Shrouds and monitoring stations already in place around star systems with intelligent life-forms that had the potential to become interstellar beings would no longer be under the province of the Boxans alone. They would share custodianship of the galaxy with the interspecies Confederation they’d built.

  Kladomaor looked up and found Mar Arden staring at him.

  “Helm, take us in,” Jaedon said. “Strike Commander, I want you to get a crew ready to render assistance from the shuttle bay.”

  Kladomaor saluted the Battle Commander and left the bridge. The ship itself wasn’t big in comparison with other ships of the fleet. Frigates were highly maneuverable and quick, and not at all equipped for long durations in the great expanse. Battle Commander Jaedon’s previous command had been aboard a Dreadnaught-class starship with a crew that numbered in the thousands. It was aboard the Dreadnaught that Kladomaor had expected to serve, but it was going through a maintenance rotation at the shipyards in the Sethion star system.

  Heading to the ship’s only shuttle access, Kladomaor rounded the corridor and then slowed his pace as he walked past the cargo area in order to glance in at the Tetronian Key, which was a bronze cylinder with a glowing cyan tip that sat in the center of the room. The key was only used to control the Star Shrouds they’d deployed around inhabited star systems. There were four soldiers standing guard nearby.

  After passing the cargo bay, Kladomaor quickened his pace to the shuttle area. He’d been a Protector for a number of cycles and it was in his nature to question things. And one of many things he questioned was why there wasn’t more security for something as important as the Tetronian Key. There was little risk of armed conflict in the Confederation as all species worked toward a harmonious existence in the great expanse, so why not provide more protection for the key that maintained harmony outside the Confederation?

  A squad of ten soldiers lined the corridor while waiting for him outside the shuttle airlock, and they snapped a salute.

  “Strike Commander,” the nearest soldier said.

  Kladomaor stood in the middle of the corridor. “We’re on standby to render assistance to a ship that sent out a distress call. They said they’re having trouble with their main reactor and are in danger of crashing into a nearby moon.”

  Kladomaor opened the airlock. “Let’s get the shuttle ready in case they need us.”

  As
Kladomaor watched from the corridor while the soldiers opened the shuttle doors, went inside, and began their preflight checks, an alert came to prominence on his helmet’s heads-up display. The frigate had just traversed a wormhole and was almost to the coordinates of the distress call.

  “Strike Commander, the shuttle is ready to depart—”

  Without warning, Kladomaor was slammed into the wall and then fell backward away from the shuttle. After a moment’s confusion, he realized the gravity field had failed. He bounced off the corridor walls, trying to get a handhold, and crashed into the end of the corridor, his power armor taking the brunt of the impact. He rolled to his side and centrifugal force pinned him against the adjacent wall. The harsh sound of twisting metal was followed by explosions. Kladomaor pulled himself up far enough to engage his mag boots while his combat suit went into its own life support. He then cautiously stood up and saw a gaping hole where the shuttle had been and the ship’s atmosphere being sucked out that hole. The area should have sealed itself off as soon as a drop in pressure had been detected.

  Kladomaor walked toward the breach, his mag boots the only thing keeping him from being pulled out of the ship. He tried to access the ship’s systems, but they were offline so he slowly approached the jagged hole and peered out to see the pockmarked surface of a moon swing into view. They were closing in on the lunar surface and the ship was out of control! Kladomaor tried to open a comms channel to the bridge, but it failed. He backed away from the hole. The interior of the ship was completely vented and he needed to get to engineering. From there, he might be able to get the ship’s systems back online.

  Walking as fast as he could in his mag boots, Kladomaor reached the end of the corridor and came around the corner. The dark corridor ahead was a disorienting mixture of flashing lights and floating debris, but he pushed onward, following a map of the ship that showed on his internal heads-up display. In a sudden, freakish display, the light held momentarily, illuminating the area and showing several dead Boxans caught in the debris. Kladomaor gasped but then gently moved the bodies so he could get through. A few minutes later he was outside the door to engineering.

  Kladomaor peered through the window. Sprawled on the ground was a Boxan with a large gash on his head, and Kladomaor couldn’t tell if the engineer was still alive. He glanced at the controls for the door but didn’t want to risk opening it so he slammed his fist on it and shouted. The engineer jumped and looked over at the door. Droplets of blood floated in the area by his head as he pulled himself toward Kladomaor.

  “Can you restore power?” Kladomaor shouted through the window.

  The engineer looked confused and Kladomaor repeated the question, but the engineer started coughing as if he were gasping for breath.

  “Life support is failing. You need to get your emergency mask on,” Kladomaor said.

  The Boxan pulled himself up so his face was even with the window. He kept blinking his eyes and Kladomaor knew he was moments from losing consciousness.

  Kladomaor reached for the control panel on the door, but the engineer banged against the door from the other side, shaking his head. He waved Kladomaor to the window and Kladomaor leaned in, watching the other Boxan intently.

  “Sabotage!” the engineer cried out and released his hold on the door.

  Kladomaor reached toward the control panel while klaxon alarms blared. Impact was imminent. His power armor configuration realigned its matrix to a rigid protective shell and Kladomaor was unable to move. The lights in the corridor went out and all the floating debris and dead bodies were slammed about as the ship crashed into the lunar surface. The force of the crash overwhelmed his mag boots and Kladomaor was also tossed about, unable to do anything but hope that his armor protected him.

  ***

  Kladomaor’s power armor released a jolt of electricity to revive him. Stimulants entered his system and Kladomaor became fully awake. He sat up and looked around. Off to the side he saw the dark gray landscape of the lunar surface and Kladomaor climbed to his feet, trying to get his bearings. He stood in the remains of the corridor that was at the rear of the ship and he had no idea how it had stayed intact. Kladomaor tried to scan for a distress beacon, but none had been deployed. A diagnostic on his armor showed the comms systems were damaged.

  He had to get out of there and look for survivors so he left the corridor and stepped out onto the lunar surface. Kladomaor went over his last moments on the ship. The engineer had told him that the ship had been sabotaged, but who would want to sabotage their ship? What could they have done to force the ship to crash onto this moon? And had the distress call they’d intercepted even been real?

  Pulling himself together, Kladomaor looked around to find himself in a shallow canyon surrounded by pieces of the ship. How many of the crew died in the crash? He tried to brush those thoughts aside, but then he kept coming back to the fact of their ship having been sabotaged. There had been a small crew serving aboard the ship, mostly comprised of Boxans, but there were a few Xiiginns as well. He hadn’t observed any suspicious activity. The only thing that stood out in his mind was the report from the Protector’s encrypted channels. Two Boxan ships had reportedly fired on each other in the Qegi star system, but the Battle Commander had said the distress call had priority. And the sabotage accusation didn’t make any sense. What had the engineer seen that made him believe that? A blazing thought seared its way to the forefront of his mind. He hadn’t figured out who had taken out their ship, but he knew why.

  Gravity was registering at point six of Sethion’s normal and Kladomaor was able to climb to the top of the shallow canyon where he could look down and study the wreckage, searching for the section of the ship the cargo hold had been in. Whoever had taken out their ship was after the Tetronian Key. It was the only explanation that made any sense.

  The ship had broken up into so many sections upon impact with the lunar surface that not even his suit computer could make sense of it, and the wreckage covered large stretches of the scarred lunar landscape. He’d have to work his way through all of it. Kladomaor frowned and updated the sensors on his suit to detect portable power cells. The casing for the Tetronian Key would have been configured with a redundant power supply. He could track that and find the key before anyone else did. He just had to get close enough for the sensors to detect it.

  Kladomaor leaped down the canyon and started making his way through the wreckage. There was no sign of the shuttle, and the soldiers aboard it running preflight routines had been the only ones with power armor on that could have survived the crash. The bridge might still be intact, but it would take him awhile to work his way there. Perhaps there were pockets of other survivors.

  A trace detection of power cell activity appeared on his heads-up display and he tracked his way toward it. Coming to a section of the ship that was partially buried, Kladomaor started looking for a way inside. He saw a faint cyan glow and pulled away some of the wreckage. The Tetronian Key was on its side, wedged in tight. The glowing tip was greatly diminished and power levels were almost depleted. Kladomaor frowned in thought, then reached to the side of the key and managed to open an access panel. He pulled out a cable and connected it to his power armor, sighing with relief when his suit computers registered the new connection. The power cells had been damaged in the crash, and if the power was completely depleted, the energy storage matrix would dissipate and they’d lose the keys to the Star Shrouds forever. The Boxans hadn’t used any type of hardware storage devices in many cycles. There was always a redundant power supply and he doubted anyone had anticipated the situation in which he currently found himself.

  A command window appeared on his heads-up display.

  ::Alternative power source detected…::

  Kladomaor tried to take control, but he was locked out.

  ::Power source inadequate to sustain key matrix. Determining storage alternatives…::

  Kladomaor tried to move, but his power armor was locked into place.


  ::System upload in progress. Commencement immediate. Terminate upon completion.::

  Kladomaor tried to use his neural implants, but nothing would respond. He felt a buzzing in his head and his eyes widened. The AI tasked with protecting the Tetronian Key was moving the data into the computer systems on his armor and linking it to his brain. Pain burst across his head and Kladomaor squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t move and there was no way to stop it. He stood there helplessly as the AI finished its task.

  ::Upload complete. Tetronian Key catastrophic failure avoided. Biological alternative approved. Must return to Sethion immediately or data fragmentation and loss will commence.::

  The command window disappeared and Kladomaor was finally able to move, but his head felt as if it weighed as much as a ship. Pain relievers flooded his system, but they hardly dulled the ache. Kladomaor scrambled back and sat down, his breath coming in gasps, and he was finding it difficult to focus. The AI had uploaded the Tetronian Key into his brain! A timer appeared in the upper corner of his heads-up display. The Boxan brain wasn’t meant to hold this much data and if he didn’t find a way back to Sethion soon, he might die. He glanced at the casing of the Tetronian Key. The power cells were dead.

  Kladomaor regained his feet and had to steady himself. Everything he looked at was surrounded by a luminous, pulsating glow so he closed his eyes for a few moments and then opened them. The halo that surrounded the wreckage of the ship diminished, but if he moved too fast, it returned.

  Kladomaor blew out a breath. He needed to find the bridge so he could send out a distress beacon. He wandered through the wreckage, hoping to find survivors, but there were none. There weren’t even any bodies. It was as if everyone had vanished.

  As he passed the middle section of the ship, he saw an armored flap that was partially opened and he peered inside at an escape pod. Kladomaor grabbed the edge of the flap and pushed upward, causing the servo motors of his power armor to go to maximum as the flap slowly peeled up. Inside was a control panel that was still running under backup power so he keyed in the command sequence to release the pod and stepped out of the way. A burst from the pod’s retro engines fired and the pod shot out from the ship, slamming into the canyon wall nearby and coming to rest a few hundred yards away. Kladomaor headed for the escape pod. All pods were equipped with survival kits, which included a backup comms system.