Stranded Justice (The Justice Trilogy Series Book 2)

by Steven L. Hawk

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Kindle Press, Seattle, 2017

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, Kindle Scout, and Kindle Press are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Books by Steven L. Hawk

  Chapter 1

  Eli considered taking a break after his tenth lap around the ship but strained ahead into lap eleven. Despite being tired and covered with sweat, he picked up the pace and pushed his body even harder.

  Almost halfway home, he thought. Twelve weeks to get here, another week on the ground, then twelve weeks back to Telgora. Easy.

  He slowed briefly to make the turn that would carry him around the stern and dodged left to avoid a collision with Corporal Aquino. The other ranger was doing his own laps around the ship and offered Eli a brief nod as he passed. The Agate was a scout-class vessel. It wasn’t large by Alliance standards—it measured only 150 meters in length and thirty meters wide—but the corridor that ran around the circumference was just wide enough to double as a jogging path. Along with the small weight room on the third deck, the corridor was where Eli and most of the other eleven rangers assigned to this mission spent their time.

  Boredom wasn’t an overly particular companion, Eli knew. It had introduced itself to all of the rangers on the ship without exception. Unlike the pilots, engineers, and scientists assigned to this trip, the rangers had little to occupy their minds—which was why they spent so much time working out their bodies.

  Even worse than the boredom, though, were the pangs of loneliness and loss Eli felt whenever he thought of Adrienne. Not for the first time, Eli wondered if being in a relationship was possible for a professional soldier. The fact that he and Adrienne were both soldiers made the question doubly troubling. Forced separations were a part of their lives, and he considered how this could ever work long term. As he always did when the doubts closed in, he struggled to recall his father’s lengthy absences from his family over the years. Despite being separated by war, responsibility, and conflict for much of their marriage, his parents had somehow managed to stay together. The thought helped. A bit.

  But exercise helped more.

  He picked up the pace and drove his body harder.

  * * *

  Eli donned his Personal Enhanced Atmospheric Combat Environment (PEACE) armor before making his way to the ship’s command center. He debated pulling his Ginny—what his father called an automatic shotgun—from its storage spot and slipping it into the sheath on his right thigh, but resisted the impulse. No one expected trouble on the planet and he didn’t want to unduly alarm any of the crew. He’d wait until it was time to visit the planet before dressing in full battle attire. He stepped through the doorway and scanned the faces already assembled. As expected, the ship’s commander, Cal Hansen, was firmly planted in the pilot’s seat at the center of the wide room. To his immediate left and right, the other four members of the crew were seated at their assigned consoles. Over the past weeks, Eli had spent a good deal of time in this room, watching, listening, and asking questions. Most of the five-member crew had grown accustomed to his curiosity and readily shared their knowledge of the ship’s operation. Commander Hansen was the exception. He had a reputation in the fleet for being the best at what he did. He was also a no-nonsense authoritarian who was abrupt, dismissive, and often rude. In many ways, he seemed more like a Minith than a human in his personal interactions. Suffice it to say, Eli had learned early on to schedule his visits around the commander’s working hours.

  He feels mildly threatened by your presence, Eli.

  A mental picture of Hansen accompanied the nonverbal communication so there was no doubt as to who was being discussed. Eli glanced left and saw Aank standing quietly at the back of the room. At less than five feet tall, the Waa adviser’s small stature and propensity for silence often caused others to overlook the alien’s presence. The large, dark eyes, set into the greenish skin of his ovoid face, gleamed back at Eli. Blinked. Blinked again.

  Whatever, Aank. Hansen has no reason to be threatened by me. I’m just a bored soldier trying to make the best of this excursion.

  You are also a Hero of the Zrthn Conflict and the son of General Grant Justice.

  Eli shrugged off the “hero” comment—he was just a soldier doing his job during that campaign—but he considered Aank’s second observation. Being the son of the most famous man in the Shiale Alliance came with a price tag. Despite his efforts to make his own way and become his own person, the shadow cast by his father was impossible to escape. Eli sighed and made a mental note to stop avoiding the ship’s top officer. Running from a problem is never the way to solve it. They would need each other, at least for the next thirteen weeks. Anyone can put up with rudeness for that long. If he managed to break down the barrier the commander had erected and get to know the real Cal Hansen in the process, well, all the better.

  Blink. Blink. The mental blinks were followed by a feeling of pleased contentment, tinged with a healthy dose of amusement. Eli stifled a Minith-like growl. In addition to being a secret from all but a handful of humans, the ability to mind-speak with the Waa was both a blessing and a curse. Aank enjoyed goading him into mental jousting matches, but Eli refused the bait. Instead, he turned his attention to the view that filled the forward wall.

  Their destination already filled nearly a fourth of the screen, and Eli kicked himself for not getting here earlier. He hadn’t needed those last five laps.

  “Slow our approach and prepare to orbit, Lieutenant Terrance,” Hansen ordered.

  “Yes, Commander.”

  Like everyone else in the command center, Eli couldn’t look away from the planet they had come to investigate. Its visage now occupied a third of the vid-wall. Cloud formations were clearly visible on the side of the planet facing the sun. Eli thought he could make out borders where landmasses met seas, but they were still too far away to be certain. A shiver of excitement ran down his spine at the thought of what might wait below.

  Cerbius was an Earth-like planet. Located in the Cerban solar sy
stem, it resided at the outermost limits of Shiale Alliance territory. It had been discovered two years earlier by a Shiale scout ship searching for Zrthn trespassers. They hadn’t found any Zrthns, but the discovery of the seemingly habitable planet was a pleasant surprise. Even more surprising—and potentially more pleasing—was initial scans of the planet hinted at large deposits of agsel ore sitting below the surface.

  A potentially habitable planet was important. A potentially habitable planet that possessed agsel was of paramount importance. Agsel was the most valuable resource to the upstart Alliance—an alliance that united the humans of Earth with the Waa, Minith, and Telgoran races. Trade of the ore, which was needed to achieve faster-than-light space travel, funded their growth and helped ensure their continued independence from alien poachers.

  Eli had learned from the scientific members of their party that several leaders in the Shiale Alliance had argued for an immediate procession of all available ships and personnel to the planet. But his father, General Grant Justice, the leader of the Shiale Defense Force, had cautioned restraint and proposed a more strategic approach. Moving dozens of large ships and thousands of troops onto the planet would send a signal to potential adversaries of the importance of Cerbius. A single scout ship, with a standard contingent of two dozen personnel—soldiers, pilots, scientists, and engineers—he argued, was a more reasonable approach. It mirrored the Alliance’s standard operations for exploring new planets. As such, it shouldn’t draw unwanted attention. If the planet was truly habitable and held large deposits of agsel ore, they could plan a larger expedition and perhaps a more permanent presence. As with most of the general’s suggestions, it was accepted by the Alliance.

  The one concession to standard protocol, however, was the inclusion of a team of Shiale Rangers to the expedition in place of regular ground troops. Their armored presence would provide additional defensive capabilities without taking up additional space on the crowded ship. That’s when Eli and eleven of his troopers had volunteered to join the mission.

  “Commander, we’re prepared to orbit,” Ensign Hagrid Sheen commented. Her words were delivered in a toneless, matter-of-fact manner, but Eli had spent enough time with the young pilot to know that tone. She used it only when addressing her superior, Commander Hansen. In the commander’s absence her voice had a lyrical, singsong quality that revealed her passion for the ship she piloted and the crew she worked with. Although second in command to Hansen, Sheen was the youngest member of the small crew. She was also the crew member Eli most enjoyed learning from. She was open with her experience and seemed to enjoy sharing what knowledge she possessed.

  “Very well, Ensign. Execute entry maneuvers and place the Agate in stationary orbit on the sunside,” the commander said, his eyes finally leaving the vid-screen. Those gray eyes landed on the tall, slender man standing stoically to the right. “Senior Engineer Tiang.”

  “Yes, Commander?” the lead engineer replied, his own eyes glued to the view of Cerbius that was now nearly filling the screen at the front of the room.

  “Once we achieve orbit, the ship is yours to command.” As the senior mining engineer on the expedition, Tiang, along with his five-person team, was charged with locating and assessing any agsel deposits. In effect, from this point onward, he was in charge of the mission until their work on Cerbius was done and the ship was ready to depart. At that point, Commander Hansen would regain control.

  “Understood, Commander. Thank you for delivering us to Cerbius safely,” the engineer replied. Like most humans born on Earth, Tiang spoke in the overly formal, nasal tone of Earth Standard language. Eli was from an earlier time and had lived with soldiers all his life. He found the dialogue, and the man himself, overly pretentious. Tiang’s blatant dismissals of Eli and the other rangers over the past few weeks contributed to his dislike of the man. After the third snub over what Eli considered simple, polite conversation, he had asked Aank what was up with the miner.

  He’s a firm believer in peace, Eli. Your role as a soldier does not conform to his behavioral norms. On an intellectual level, he understands the need for those like you. On a more personal level, he believes you to be evil and dangerous. His unwillingness to interact with those who commit violence is how he reconciles those feelings.

  So it wasn’t personal. Tiang understood the need for soldiers; he just didn’t like them. His dad a word for those types of humans: Peaceniks. They refused to accept violence of any sort, for any reason. Oddly enough, Eli knew, those types of humans were often the ones who most needed people like Eli and his father—someone willing to fight for those who were unable or unwilling to fight for themselves. The Peace Wars were proof of that reality. If his dad hadn’t fought back against the Minith twenty-plus years ago, people like Tiang would still be languishing under the boots of those alien slavers.

  Eli shrugged off the thoughts and concentrated on the view of the planet. It now filled the vid-screen. Landmasses were clearly discernible from oceans. The preliminary data from a year earlier had given everyone a good understanding of what they would find on Cerbius: vivid green vegetation covered nearly half the planet, while the other half was painted with the startling blues of oceans, rivers, and lakes. Along with the others in the command center, Eli was captivated by the beauty that grew closer with each second.

  “Reducing speed to match orbital rotation,” Ensign Sheen called out. Eli felt and heard the changes taking place throughout the ship as it settled into position just inside the upper reaches of the Cerbian atmosphere. The trio of agsel drives lining the ship’s stern worked in tandem to gently lower the craft toward the surface. This approach was much different from the early days of human space exploration, when crude, rocket-powered ships were used. In those days, reentry was a carefully choreographed dance that balanced speed, heat, and approach angle to ensure safe deceleration. As Ensign Sheen had explained it, the old process was similar to skipping a stone across a lake in order to achieve speed burn-off and allow a gradual, controlled reentry. The modern model, perfected by the engineers of Waa, was more like placing a rock on the surface of the lake and gently lowering it to the bottom using the science of magnetics that was made possible by the agsel-covered hull and the triple agsel drives.

  To Eli, it was a magic that he’d never fully understand. He doubted any human did. The alien Waa were a much more advanced race in that respect, which is why they built the ships used by the Shiale Alliance.

  “We’ve reached our target, eight kilometers above the surface,” Sheen calmly announced. “Upper reaches of the troposphere. Stabilizing descent.”

  The planet filled the vid-screen now and Eli watched as the expanses of green rolled by beneath the white of clouds. The surface seemed flat, devoid of mountains or large hills, but it was difficult to determine accurately from this distance. The only thing he knew for sure was that as far as their cameras could see, Cerbius was covered with green. And that green was broken up only by the occasional lake or river. Eli didn’t spot a single canyon, desert, or plain.

  “Tiang,” Hansen said, rising from his seat and turning to face the senior engineer. “The ship is now yours. Orders?”

  “Thank you, Commander.” Eli watched as Tiang marched to the front of the room and stood close to the vid-screen. He seemed to be studying it, but for what Eli had no clue. “How close to the surface can we descend, Commander?”

  “The Agate can get in as close as a kilometer, maybe a bit closer,” Hansen answered. “After that, we’ll need to deploy one or more of the three carriers in our holding bay. As you know, all ground landings will have to be done by carrier ship.”

  All landings also required the accompaniment of Shiale rangers, so Eli paid close attention.

  “Thank you, Commander,” Tiang said. “I’d like to get as close as possible to the surface and deploy our sensing equipment. With luck, we’ll have identified our first agsel deposit by the end of the day.”

  “As you wish,” Hansen replied, then nodd
ed to Ensign Sheen to carry out the request.

  As they got closer to the ground, their views of the planet sharpened. However, even as they neared the one-kilometer mark, Eli still could not make out individual plants or trees. All he could see were various shades of green. The forest cover was thick—so thick it appeared to be an endless ocean of green. Eli didn’t see a single patch of bare ground.

  Eli asked for a reading on the height of the foliage and was informed that the ceiling of the forest canopy topped out at just over three hundred meters. Those were tall, tall trees below. And there were a lot of them. He wondered how they would land the carriers, and he began planning out strategies for clearing a landing site, in case one might be needed.

  His thoughts were interrupted by a gasp. He looked toward Tiang and saw the man pointing to something at the upper right corner of the large screen. Eli looked at what captured Tiang’s attention and found himself equally captivated. Although the point of interest was far below them, it grew larger by the second. The vid quality was sufficient to let them know there was no mistaking the situation. They weren’t alone on Cerbius. There was a large facility—comprising multiple buildings and a large spaceport—sitting in the middle of all that green.

  “It’s a mine,” Tiang stated. There was hint of irritation and disbelief in the words, and Eli shared those feelings. For just a moment he had time to wonder who could have beaten them here, but that thought quickly vanished as a streak of red leaped from the structure and sliced a pathway from the mine to the Agate.

  As Eli watched in shock, the streak intercepted their course and struck the ship. The hit was marked by a violent, shuddering vibration that passed through the command center.

  Laser cannon, Eli thought.

  The Agate shimmied violently, and tilted to the right. Alarms began ringing throughout the command center and the rest of the ship.

  “We’ve lost the starboard and center drives!” Ensign Sheen called out. Eli heard the fear in Hagrid’s voice and knew they were in trouble. Someone was doing their best to knock them from the sky, and they were a single agsel drive from succeeding.