by M. D. Cooper
DESTINY LOST
THE ORION WAR – BOOK 1
M. D. Cooper
Copyright © 2016 M. D. Cooper
Cover Art by Ravven
Starship Design & Rendering by Tom Edwards
Editing by Brenda Tippin Deliantoni & Amy DuBoff
All rights reserved.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This book is in your hands today in no small part because of you, the readers. Your emails and excitement for the series always inspires me to keep writing.
In addition, the author community, with whom I have found companionship, has helped me hone my craft, and shared stories of encouragement—as I have with them.
Beyond them are the hard-working folks in the aero-space industry, who are working day and night to bring our species to space in a meaningful way. Their dedication and advances are what gives me hope for our future.
Lastly, as I’ve mentioned before, this book stands on the shoulders of giants. Writers whose stories and imaginations have forged a shared vision of the future, and our destiny, that we call Science Fiction.
CONTENTS
AN UNEXPECTED CARGO
JUST A ROUTINE DAY
TANIS RICHARDS
REVELATIONS
TIME TRAVELER
A STARSHIP NAMED SABRINA
RENDEZVOUS
THE MEET
LOSS
THE BEST LAID PLANS
OF MICE AND MEN
SILSTRAND
RESIGNATION
A SURREPTITIOUS ESCAPE
LET’S BLOW THIS JOINT
FAIR TRADE
READY AND ABLE
LYING LOW
BOLLAM’S WORLD
PRIVATEER
UNBREAKABLE
THE RETURN
BREAK A FEW EGGS
NEW EDEN
THE SILENT SYSTEM
THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS
ANDROMEDA
INTREPID
DECISIONS
PREPARATIONS
THE LAKE HOUSE
AN UNEXPECTED INVITATION
THE CALM BEFORE
ESCALATION
ENGAGEMENT
FIRESTORM
REVELATIONS
REPERCUSSIONS
AURORA
APPENDICES
TERMS & TECHNOLOGY
PLACES
PEOPLE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
THE WORLD OF AEON 14
For the seasoned science fiction reader there will be little here which they have not seen in another story, be it planetary rings, nano technology, AI, or mind-to-mind communication.
However, for those who may not know what a HUD is, understand the properties of deuterium, or cannot name the stars within the Sirius system, I encourage you to reference the appendixes at the rear of the book as you read.
You may also visit www.aeon14.com to read the primer, glossary, and timelines.
To get the latest news and access to free novellas and short stories, sign up on the Aeon 14 mailing list: www.aeon14.com/signup.
AN UNEXPECTED CARGO
STELLAR DATE: 06.30.8927 (Adjusted Years)
LOCATION: Coburn Station, Trio
REGION: Trio System, Silstrand Alliance Space
Sera slammed the shooter down with a triumphant grin and watched with reddened eyes as the man from Thoria reached for his next glass. Around them, the crowd chanted their names as money changed hands.
Her opponent downed his drink and tossed the glass onto the table where it rolled against the two-dozen empty shooters between them. With a wave of his hand and an unappealing grin, he indicated that the floor was hers.
She took a deep breath to steady herself, chanting an internal mantra of just one more, just one more. The act of raising her arm caused Sera to sway in her seat, the smell of bodies pressed close around not helping her deepening nausea.
The Thorian saw her hesitation and his grin grew wider.
“Ready to give up?” he slurred, his putrid breath washing over her.
Sera didn’t reply, only fixed him with a steely glare—at least she hoped it was a steely glare—and grasped the glass in her fist, throwing it back without further hesitation.
The alcohol washed down her throat like fire, and her tongue felt swollen in its wake. If she didn’t know better, she’d assume the bartender had poured a stiffer drink.
She set the glass down and took slow, deep breaths, using all her concentration to keep the fire in her stomach and veins under control.
The Thorian grunted and stared at the row of shots before him—likely deciding which one to pick up. Finally selecting his drink, he grabbed it with a swift flourish and raised it high to throw it back.
In his current state, the gesture failed miserably and the drink splashed across his face. His features crumpled in confusion and his arms rotated slowly as he slid sideways out of his chair to the floor. No one attempted to catch him and the man’s head hit the deck-plate with a solid crack.
Cheers and grumbles erupted around her as Sera was declared the winner. The victors were paid out, and the losers turned to the bar for another drink. In the midst of the post-contest exchange, one voice rose above the others.
A short, but well-built man in a dirty shipsuit pushed to the front of the crowd.
“Cheater! She had to cheat; there’s no way that waif could drink Greg under the table!” He slammed his hands on the table, bent over, his face inches from Sera’s. “You used nano to clear the alcohol from your bloodstream.”
Most people had some of the tiny nano-machines in their body, it was nearly impossible not to; they were almost as common as bacteria. A person’s nano was controlled by their internal computer or AI—if you had the money or influence to hire one. Sera’s nano could clear her bloodstream with ease—though that wasn’t a fact she advertised. It took a lot of nano to filter that much booze over such a short period; a lot more than a simple freighter captain should possess.
Sera worked her mouth for a moment, making sure it would respond the way she wanted it to. “I did not. Have the bartender do a check.” The words were slurred, but understandable.
Bartenders on Coburn Station were not allowed to let their patrons to get too drunk—an ordinance they rarely enforced. They had scanners on hand that could do a blood-alcohol level check and determine, based on that person’s size and metabolic rate, if they were too inebriated to have another round.
The bartender had already stepped into the crowd, eager to do whatever it took to avoid a fight on his shift. He pressed the scanner against Sera’s wrist and took samples of her blood for the reading.
“She’s pissed,” he said as he straightened. “Consistent with the amount and time she’s been slugging them back.” Smirking, he turned back to the bar. “Those shooters are only a third of what she’s had tonight too.”
The winners cheered all the louder and the losers ceased their grumbling. Everyone knew that bartenders altered their scanners, so they could give people more liquor than they should. If it said she was drunk, then she should be totally pissed.
Sera sent her internal AI a mental shrug. Helen didn’t like it when Sera drank; she claimed it upset the chemical balance of Sera’s body in a way that made the AI feel weird. Sera wasn’t sure how that was possible, not that would change her behavior. She liked the feeling of chemical imbalance.
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Helen could be annoying at times with her mothering, but Sera knew that her AI’s concern was genuine. Pulling her thoughts from the familiar debate, Sera looked around the bar.
To smooth things over, the winners were buying the losers a round. Sera had put a hundred SIL credits down on herself and collected three hundred back. The odds had been stacked nicely against her.
Betting was illegal in Silstrand Alliance space, so money always changed hands in cash. The prohibition didn’t seem to diminish the illegal activity; it just meant no one had to pay taxes on their winnings. Sera thought about that for a minute. Maybe that was why it was illegal; officials probably liked to gamble tax-free, too.
Stuffing the hard money into an inside pocket on her leather, jacket she rose slowly, nearly teetering over at the last moment. A steady hand appeared under her elbow and Sera turned to see the dark smiling face of Cargo.
“Good haul on that, Captain.” He guided her out of the bar and into the bustling main corridor of the station’s promenade. “I made a couple hundred credits on your drinking skill.”
“It’s good to be useful,” Sera slurred as Cargo led her toward a small coffee shop which was renowned for its after-drunk-sober-up brew. Once inside, Sera ordered two of their strongest and let Cargo wait at the counter for the order. Her leather clothing squeaked nosily as she collapsed into a chair. Cursing the café’s bright lights, she leaned back with a hand over her eyes, praying for a power outage.
Her first mate knew she liked to get one last round in at a bar before they left a station—okay, maybe more than just a round. He often would find her and bring her back to the ship before she was too far gone.
Sera splayed her fingers and looked through them to see Cargo returning with an insufferable grin on his face. He had a coffee for himself and two of the sober-up drinks for her. He set them on the table and pushed them toward her, his smile widening.
“I bet those are going to taste horrible.”
Sera stuck her tongue out as she leaned forward to pick one up. “Prolly.”
“You should have let me know you were gonna get into another drinking contest,” Cargo said and took a drink of his own beverage. “I would have had more cash on hand and made a larger wager.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t think to let you know so you could sate your gambling needs,” Sera said while delivering another sour look.
“My gambling habit doesn’t have the unpleasant side effects of your station drinking binges.”
Sera eyed him blearily over the rim of her cup. “What side effects are those?”
“The first day of any trip. You’re not exactly sunshine and roses the day after a binge.”
“Am I ever?”
Cargo paused, appearing to ponder the statement with great cogitation.
Her mind echoed with the light watery sound of Helen laughing at Cargo’s pause. Sera scowled and swatted at him. “Thanks!”
He gestured with a nonchalant wave toward the second cup, indicating she get to it. Sera had already used her nano to clear most of the alcohol from her bloodstream and contain it for the next time she visited the head. However, Cargo didn’t know she could do that and she needed to keep up appearances.
Sera raised the cup to her lips and took a long pull of the vile liquid anyway. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful. After downing it, she leaned back in her chair, feeling much steadier than when she first sat down.
“All things considered, it’s not a bad bit of extra credit to finish the visit with,” she said and patted her pocket.
Cargo grunted, “One day you’ll run out of people who haven’t seen you win a drinking contest and then what will you do for fun?”
“Dunno, I guess I’ll have to find a new way to fleece the common man.”
Cargo laughed heartily in response.
Several minutes later—with Sera moving under her own power—they made their way down the promenade and onto the commercial dock front. There was just as much traffic here, but of a different sort. Cargo transports trundled down the deck-plate and service trucks were everywhere, delivering supplies or repair equipment.
Sabrina was in berth 724 Station South. Long before she could see the ship around the curve of the docks, Sera could hear Thompson’s voice berating some poor cargo handlers. The echoing shouts eventually resolved into words, and Sera hid a smile behind her hand as they approached.
“You lazy dolts, can’t you even lift a crate? I’ve seen hundred-year-old bots do a better job than you oafs. If you drop one more container, I’ll take it out of your scrawny, mal-nourished hides. Now get to it, I don’t have all day.”
Thompson was a large blond man who had been her supercargo for over six years. To avoid confusion with Cargo, they just called him the Super. He wasn’t a very outgoing man, mostly taken to brooding and stumping about the ship, but his attention to detail made him a good crewmember. Combined with his size and skill with a pulse rifle, that made him the right sort of super for Sabrina.
“How’s the last shipment?” Sera asked when she and Cargo reached the ship.
“Fine, if these morons can manage to hold onto an effing handle.” Thompson tossed the two dockworkers a contemptuous glare. “Don’t know why they insist on using humans for this. Either way, we’ll be loaded up with plenty of time to spare, don’t worry, Captain.”
“Good to hear,” Cargo said. “Send the final docs up to me on the bridge when you’re done.”
Thompson nodded and turned back to the handlers as another crate slipped from their grasp. “God’s great black space! What is wrong with you two, is this your first day on the job? I told you I was going to take it out of your hide and now I am. Which one of you wants to get your ear ripped off?”
“Somehow, I don’t think that is helping them with their work,” Cargo laughed.
“Yeah, but I bet it makes him feel a lot better,” Sera grinned.
“I’ll see you later, Captain; I’ve got to wash the smell of that bar you were in off me before my shift starts.”
Sera took a deep breath. “Dunno, I kind of like that malty musk on you.”
“In that case, I’m gonna take an even longer shower,” Cargo laughed and walked onto the ship. Sera stuck her tongue out at him and walked over to an inspection port to admire the sleek lines of her girl.
Sabrina was not a regular boxy freight hauler, having started her life as a pleasure yacht. Her previous owner had fallen on hard times and lost possession of the ship in an outer system. Sabrina had needed repairs, and the local shipyard, where she had been in storage for owed taxes, didn’t have the funds to make them. So, she sat for ninety years before Sera found her. With a hundred years of service before being impounded, she was getting on, but that didn’t diminish the impact Sera felt when she first laid eyes on the ship.
There was an influential man who owed Sera a favor or two, and she got him to give her the money to buy the ship and furnish it with the necessary repairs. The finer aspects of the yacht’s interior had been stripped out long before Sera saw Sabrina, but it was the size of the vessel and the engines that mattered. This ship had the room to haul cargo and the power to do so quickly. There were some other modifications that had been made, but like her advanced nano, Sera didn’t advertise those.
She noted with approval that the damage they had suffered on their last run had been repaired. They had been parked in a planetary ring, moving along with the flow of the rocks and ice, when a stray rock had damag
ed the port sensor array and left a long rent across a goodly portion of the ship. However, the profit from the questionable cargo, which had put them there in the first place, more than paid for the repairs.
Thompson let loose some final curses as the dockworkers finished loading the last crate. She turned to watch with a smile; the dockworkers were visibly trembling as they got on their cart and drove off.
Sera returned to viewing her ship. She enjoyed these final quiet moments alone before going on board and filling out departure docs; these last few minutes when it was just her, Sabrina’s sleek hull, and the call of empty space. She could forget her past, previous failures. Here she was a good captain, Sabrina was prosperous, and she had a good crew.
Her reverie was interrupted by a stinging slap on her butt and Sera turned to see her pilot, Cheeky, standing behind her. She wore a coy smile and her hands were resting on tilted hips.
“One day I’ll get you to give me some of that luvin’ you lavish on Sabrina,” Cheeky said.
“One day I’ll get you neutered and save us all a lot of hassle.” Sera rubbed her stinging butt; Cheeky could really deliver a good slap. She found herself becoming aroused as she looked at her pilot.
Cheeky was an attractive woman who wore as little clothing as local law or custom would allow. On Coburn, that meant she wore little more than three triangles of cloth, her shoes and a purse.
Sera shook her head to clear her mind. Cheeky also had altered glands that could put out much higher levels of pheromones than any human should be allowed to. “Make sure you shut that off and take a long shower. You know what happened last time your love smell filtered through the ship.”
“We all had a good time.” Cheeky wiggled her hips suggestively and blew her captain a kiss as she walked up the ramp. From behind, it was obvious why Cheeky had the name she did. Sera found herself wondering if it was a conscious effort to walk like that or if the woman had resorted to surgery.