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

by Jay Allan

  “It’s my pleasure. Currently, the Sycorax station has lost its long-range communications. But on board, we have the means to repair a small craft such as yours. Perhaps if you were to return the news of our plight and send someone to help us, Captain—?”

  “Ferek. Just Ferek.”

  “Don’t forget me,” Tempest demands.

  “Oh, and my ship’s AI system, Tempest. And yeah, sure. I’d be glad to deliver your coordinates and send someone to help.” I have no idea if anyone will come, but I have places to be, and this could be my ticket in getting to them.

  The old man smiles again. “We will bring you aboard momentarily.”

  The screen flickers and Proden’s image disappears. The metal of the surrounding hull shakes and moans as a tracking beam locks onto the Tempest. Without a second to waste, she begins her descent into the belly of the Sycorax.

  “Well, that was a stroke of luck.” I lean back in my seat, running my hand through my hair that’s in desperate need of a trim.

  “You may make your rendezvous on time after all,” Tempest adds.

  ***

  I straighten my shirt, tucking the back into my pants as the metal hatch on the Tempest flies open to a large, clean, white bay. Proden wears an equally white robe that hangs down to his feet, complete with gold rings on three of his fingers. The old man waits to greet me as I step down, boots clomping on the bay floor. Floating next to him is a metallic, semi-humanoid, AI unit. It’s essentially a hovering torso and head with two sets of arms and pincher hands at the end of its limbs.

  “Greetings, Captain Ferek,” Proden says.

  Not sure some eighteen-year-old black market trader in a vessel with a sawn-off Ship IDN can truly be called a captain, but I’m gonna roll with it. I straighten my shoulders, check for the blaster on my hip, and walk straight to him, hand extended. Might as well throw on a pearly white smile, too.

  Proden takes my hand in a firm grip, nods, and releases me. “Welcome to the Sycorax. It’s been some time since we’ve entertained guests.”

  “You know, I can’t stay long—”

  “Oh, no, of course not.” He flicks his gaze from me to the AI beside him. “Ariel, would you please begin the repairs immediately? Captain Ferek has somewhere to be.”

  A blue, glowing sensor on the AI—Ariel—blinks to life. “Yes, Proden.” It hovers toward the Tempest and then out of sight.

  Proden places a hand on my shoulder and motions toward the bay exit. As he does, the door dilates and slurps away, revealing a petite girl with long blonde hair falling over her shoulders like ocean waves. Her sky-blue dress billows over the floor as she walks in. My heart catches in my throat. Since when do I use a word like billow?

  Slightly dizzy, I shake my head as she steps toward us.

  “This is my daughter,” Proden introduces her.

  I barely hear him. I’m too busy planning our evening. “Huh?” is the best I can muster.

  “I am Miranda.” She presents a dainty, perfect hand to me. “Proden’s daughter.”

  I stand there like a dummy until my brain clears. I take Miranda’s hand, and it’s the softest skin I’ve ever felt. Like silk. “Capt…. Ferek. My name is Ferek.”

  Her lips turn up at the corners. “Nice to meet you, Ferek.”

  Again, I’m left standing here like a dummy, staring at the way her golden hair falls over her swan-like neck.

  Golden hair? Swan like? What am I thinking?

  I suck in a breath and close my gaping mouth. Are the oxygen levels on this station lower?

  “Yes,” I choke out at last and release her hand.

  “Why don’t we allow Ariel some time to repair your ship?” Proden offers. “Would you enjoy a tour, Captain Ferek?”

  My head spins again, but I shake it off. “Sure. It would be a good idea to stretch my legs. Been on board too long.”

  Proden guides us out into the station corridor, long halls that appear to go nowhere.

  “Where’s the crew?” I ask Proden. Miranda leans her head forward and flashes me a shy smile. A flush travels up my cheeks

  “No crew, young man,” Proden says, the hem of his robe catching the floor as we walk the hall. “This station maintains itself with very little human effort.”

  “Hmm, must be lonely.”

  Proden offers his arm to Miranda and she gingerly takes it. “We have each other, right my dear?

  “Yes, Father.” Miranda nearly sings. The sound of her voice sends electricity up my spine. If only I could speak with her alone. Hold her. Put my hands where they don’t belong...

  Proden clamps a ringed hand on my shoulder, snapping me from my fantasy. “Young Captain, an old man is not a good companion for two healthy young people. My dear daughter never has the opportunity to converse with someone of her age. What must you be? Seventeen… eighteen?”

  “Eighteen,” I choke out, my heart racing like a contestant in a Xotander mule race at the potential opportunity.

  “Perfect. Miranda is seventeen.” He chuckles and lightly pushes the two of us together in front of him.

  What father actually wants his teenage daughter to spend time with a love-struck—

  Love-struck? Where did that come from?

  Miranda slips her arm in the crook of mine and my mind settles.

  Proden’s muffled voice falls away behind us, calling, “You two have fun.”

  “We have a garden on board,” Miranda coos. “Would you enjoy a visit?”

  “Not much of a flower type of gu—” I start to reply until I glance at her. I dive into the ocean of her eyes. “Sure, I love flowers.”

  Miranda leads us through the never-ending halls to a door. As we approach, it dilates, and the scent of roses wafts into the corridor, making my brain spin. A giggling Miranda clasps my hand and pulls me into the garden.

  Above us, any indication we’re inside a space station is gone. Two, what must be, projected moons shine brightly down in a starry sky, illuminating a garden stretching as far as the eye can see.

  Miranda releases my hand and skips toward a rose bush, plucking off a large yellow bloom. She turns to me, smiling, and slips the flower behind her ear.

  “What do you think?”

  “You’re… um, it’s beautiful.” Heat radiates up the back of my neck.

  She strides up to me and places her arms around my neck. “Really? You think so?”

  I clear my throat. My hands have the urge, as if on their own, to wrap around her waist, pull her in… and…

  Wait. I barely know this girl. I need to get my cargo to Taruk before he blows his top.

  Before I have the chance to do anything, she’s off again, flying down a path I didn’t notice before now.

  I slap the comm on my wrist. “Tempest?”

  “Yes, Ferek?” Tempest’s voice sounds through the speaker.

  “How’s it going?”

  “I assume you are not speaking of my contentedness and are instead inquiring of the repair? If so, Ariel is performing a satisfactory job of overhauling the propulsion system. We are on track to leave by 1300 hours.”

  I sigh in relief. “Ok, thanks. Ferek out.”

  “Goodbye, dear.”

  I stare at the comm, wide-eyed and unsure if I want to respond to that.

  “Ferek,” Miranda calls.

  I look up and jog over to where she now sits under a tree in the garden, the yellow flower gone from her hair. Spread underneath her is a blanket and scattered about are plates of cheese, fruit, meats, and two huge slices of what looks like chocolate cake.

  “Are you hungry?” She pats a spot next to her on the blanket.

  I’ve no clue where this feast came from, but the memories of the last week’s bland ration packs carousel through my mind. As if on cue, my stomach lets out a grumble.

  She reaches out to me, and without a second thought, I take her hand and allow her to pull me gently to the blanket. She plucks a strawberry from a plate and holds it to my mouth. I flick my gaz
e to her, then bite into the juicy, tart fruit.

  “I haven’t had strawberries in forever. Too expensive,” I mumble while still chewing.

  “We have whatever we like here. Replicator system.” Miranda tips her head and gives a close-lipped smile. “Is there anything else you might enjoy?”

  Just you.

  My eyes grow wide. Did I say that out loud?

  “No. No, this is great.” I scan over all the foods, eyeing the cake again. I scoot back and lean against the rough trunk of the tree. Somehow, throughout our meal, I avoid saying anything stupid or crazy out loud. When stuffed, I check the time.

  “You should not have long to wait,” she says.

  “No.” I rest my head against the tree, drowsy from a belly full of food. More than I’ve had in weeks. My eyelids sink shut.

  “Ferek?”

  My lids pop open to Miranda, now dressed in a shiny pink gown, giggling as she grabs my hand and pulls me down a green hill toward a gigantic house.

  Where am I?

  My mind spirals, trying to figure out how we got here. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the tall structure was out of some old fairy tale story. One my sister would always plunk me down and force me to listen to when I was five or so. Overhead, an oblong cruiser zips through the air. At least we aren’t back in time a thousand years.

  Miranda slows her pace, spinning toward me, and throws her arms around my shoulders. A smile overtakes her lips, making me melt, and before I completely disappear into a puddle, she pulls me toward her into a deep kiss.

  Who cares where we are.

  I snake my arms around her waist and pull her in close to my body, my hands sliding from her thin waist to her—

  She yanks back and smacks me on the arm, her lips twisting into a coy smile. “Silly, Ferek. What if the children see?”

  I jump back from her and cough. “Children?”

  My eyes shoot open to the garden again, and I gasp for breath. The artificial moon still illuminates the scene. Miranda, back in the blue dress and wearing a sweet, calm expression, stares at me.

  “Did you enjoy your nap?”

  I was asleep? I glance around to the night light trees and grass and rub my sweaty hands over my pants. “Um, yeah.”

  All the dishes of food we ate have been cleared. Only the blanket remains.

  “We didn’t...uh...”

  Miranda rises and offers me her hand. “Did not what?”

  I take it and stand. “Nothing, it was a dream.”

  “A nice one, I hope.” She strolls toward the way we came into the garden. I follow, glancing at her, and it’s as if she’s somehow has grown more beautiful. Skin smoother. Eyes brighter. Lips.... her lips…

  She grabs my arm, pulling me in close. “Can you maintain a secret?”

  “Yes?”

  “Good.” The door to the garden slurps open, and she pilots me into the corridor. “I have another place to show you, then.”

  After walking for about five minutes, she activates a new door, which opens to a large empty room. The outer wall and dome ceiling are transparent. Below the Sycorax is the red planet, and off to the side the moon orbits. Black space, speckled with stars, waits above.

  Miranda leads me to the center of the room as the door closes behind us. “I come here to think.” She raises her hands above her head and spins. “It is my favorite place on the station.”

  “How come?”

  She slows to a stop and sadness slowly washes over her face. “Because I dream about my home.”

  Everything in me wants to reach out to her, comfort her, but we just met. Despite the driving urge, I hold back. “Tell me about it.”

  Miranda waves her hand and two circles on the floor dilate. From inside, two seats rise, and with a click, move into a slightly reclined position. She gestures toward one of the chairs and I sit. She does the same.

  “I was not born on the Sycorax, you know. Father and I lived on a planet called...” She pauses, and her face takes on a quizzical look. “Let us call the planet, Plenty, because ‘plenty’ describes it perfectly. The correct name is difficult to say in your tongue.”

  “Why did you leave?”

  A tiny crease forms between Miranda’s perfect brows, but it somehow doesn’t spoil her beauty. “We were forced.”

  “Forced?” I sit upright, unexplained anger burning in my chest.

  “Yes, forced. Twelve years ago, we were banished by my uncle.”

  “Why would he do that?” Taruk crosses my mind. Someone who’s cruel and feeds people to his dogs if he doesn’t like their face that day.

  “To become the new king, of course.”

  “So, you’re a princess of an entire planet, and Proden is king?” I gasp.

  “I was. Father and I barely escaped with our lives. And Ariel, of course. My uncle told the people we were dead, lost in a horrible accident.”

  I shake my head in disbelief. Me? Sitting here with a princess? What are the odds?

  But quickly I return to her story, my fists balling as the anger continues to burn up my neck against this uncle of hers. He had no right.

  I leap from my seat and pace in front of her. “Your father is the rightful king of Plenty. Why are you wasting your time out here, alone, when you could be royalty? I know people. People who could help. They might want a little kickback,” I mutter, “but they could help!”

  “Shh,” she scolds. Miranda waves her hand over the arm of the chair and the back returns to a full seated position. “I told you, this is a secret.” That little crease returns between her brows as she stands and hurries toward me.

  Confusion muddles my brain. “Why? Don’t you want Proden to be king again?”

  “Over the years, my father has grown… unkind.”

  Unkind? That old man wouldn’t hurt a space fly. He’d been nothing but helpful.

  Miranda stretches up on her toes and leans close to my ear. Her proximity makes my breath hitch. “I think the years of near solitude have driven him mad.”

  I’ve met people like Proden before. They can hold it together for a while in front of strangers, but with family? That’s another story.

  “I do not want Father to know I shared this with you. I am afraid he would be furious.” The light dims in Miranda’s deep blue eyes, and with it despair hollows me.

  I grab her hand. “Come with me. On the Tempest.”

  She shakes her head. “Oh no, I could never do that. Father would be all alone.”

  Miranda is the kind of sweet soul who only thinks of others. I’ll need to take charge. I tap the comm on my wrist. “Tempest.”

  Tempest’s voice echoes in the open room. “Yes, Ferek?”

  “Almost ready to go?”

  “Repairs will be completed momentarily.”

  “Thanks, old girl!”

  “Ferek, I’ve informed you—” Tempest scolds, but I tap off the comm before she gets any further.

  I grapple for Miranda’s hands and spin her toward me. “Tempest will be ready to go by the time we get there. I know it’s crazy, but come with me.”

  The sadness in Miranda’s eyes dissipates. “Really? Do you think we can do it?”

  I nod, and without warning, she throws her arms around me and pecks her lips to mine. The vision of the towering house and Miranda pulling me toward it flashes through my mind again. I push away the kid talk… for now.

  She pulls back. “If you can return me to Plenty, I will reclaim the throne. Father will be unable to follow, as the Sycorax is no longer operational. I know there are people still on my side. I could reward you greatly.” She pauses to think and a broad smile takes over her lips. “We could be married. You could rule with me. Have anything you want.”

  Me? Rule a planet?

  It’s a long shot, but it would be a world better than the errand boy life I’m leading now.

  “Do you love me?” Miranda asks, eyes full of hope.

  Heavens above. The question belts into me like a blaster
hit and a wave of something one might call “love” ebbs through my body. “Yeah, I do. I love, prize, honor you.”

  Huh? Honor you?

  Miranda grins and snatches up my hand, dragging me toward the exit.

  “Wait, wait. We need a plan.” I pull her to a stop. “Even if Proden isn’t around, that AI is still repairing the Tempest. It’ll alert your father right away.”

  Miranda shakes her head. “No, Ariel is my friend. We can go.”

  She activates the exit, but I snag the fabric on her sleeve as she makes for the door again.

  “If this is going to work, we need a better plan.” Nervousness rolls around in my belly as I scan the hall.

  She huffs and wraps her arms around her chest. “Fine, here is the plan. I will return you to the service bay. You stay out of sight, and I will speak with Ariel. I’ll tell him Proden is in need of assistance immediately. Ariel will listen and do as it’s told.”

  “Then we can activate the bay exit, book it out of here, and Proden won’t be able to follow or call for help,” I say. It’s not a great plan, but the reward for returning a princess to her rightful throne calls.

  I glance at Miranda, and it’s as if she’s glowing with excitement. The sight rockets happiness through my veins and a flash of her wearing a white dress, complete with a crown and veil, careens through my head. I shake my head and snap out of it.

  Reward. Think about the reward.

  “Okay,” I say. “Good enough.”

  She guides me through a maze of halls. It’s a good thing too, because I’d have no clue where to go without her. This entire station looks the same to me; gray wall after gray wall, no unique markings to discern our location until, finally, we reach what might be the large entry to the repair bay.

  “This is it,” she whispers. “You hide once we arrive, and I will send Ariel to my father.”

  Miranda activates the bay entrance and the door dilates. Inside, she waves me behind a stack of large storage containers. I crouch behind them, ice traveling up my spine and already spending the money I’ll receive if the princess can regain her throne. Across the bay, Miranda disappears behind the Tempest to find the AI unit.

  I tap my comm and reduce the volume. “Tempest?” I whisper and stick my ear to the tech.