Was Once a Hero

by Edward McKeown

  Was Once A Hero

  The first Book In the Fenaday and Shasti Chronicles

  By Edward McKeown

  Was Once A Hero

  By: Edward McKeown

  Copyright © 2011 Edward McKeown

  Published by: Hellfire Publishing, Inc at Smashwords

  www.hellfirepublishing.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this document or the related files may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means (electronic, photocopying, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher.

  Digital ISBN: 978-1-937179-95-3

  Cover art by: Michael Church

  Edited by: Julanne Batterton

  This book is work of fiction. Characters, names, places, incidents, and organizations are a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

  ※ Dedication ※

  "To my love and my inspiration, Schelly Keefer."

  Introduction by Janet Morris, author and editor: Edward McKeown intends to rock you and sock you with his new novel, "Was Once A Hero." Heroism and hardship begin on the very first page. Fast paced action abounds. Buckle your seatbelts for this epic of warships and aliens, love and death beyond the stars. As McKeown points out in this first novel of his ambitious Fenaday and Shasti Chronicles, "The peoples of the Confederacy are weary of the expense and disruption of war. They are demobilizing quickly, too quickly in a universe containing the Dua-Denlenn and the unknown. Your fleet and your people will not risk lives and treasure on the closed book of my race." Wrong decision. Wrong time. And there you have it: politics never intrude on this story, but they fuel it to a blazing conclusion.

  Edward McKeown has a wonderful start on a series that plays to his strengths: young people of both sexes, caught up in drama where individual heroism can make a difference. Buy it for the action, read it for McKeown's unique view of a far future that's all too likely. -- Janet Morris May-2011

  Janet Morris began writing in 1976 and has since published more than 20 novels. Her first novel, written as Janet E. Morris, was High Couch of Silistra, the first in a quartet of novels with a very strong female protagonist.

  She has contributed short fiction to the shared universe fantasy series Thieves World, in which she created the Sacred Band of Stepsons, a mythical unit of ancient fighters modeled on the Sacred Band of Thebes.

  She created, orchestrated, and edited the Bangsian fantasy series Heroes in Hell, writing stories for the series as well as co-writing the related novel, The Little Helliad, with Chris Morris.

  Most of her fiction work has been in the fantasy and science fiction genres, although she has also written historical and other novels. Morris has written, contributed to, or edited several book-length works of non-fiction, as well as papers and articles on nonlethal weapons, developmental military technology and other defense and national security topics.

  Was Once A Hero

  By

  Edward McKeown

  Chapter One

  Winter 2805AD. Confed Forward Base Brendara

  Robert Fenaday looked through rain-streaked windows at the field where the sleek shape of his wife’s ship lay in its launch cradle and thought…this can’t be happening. But it was. Ground crews were clearing the last connections holding Blackbird to Brendara base. The small scoutship was bound for war—a war that made no sense, against the Conchirri, a species out of a child’s nightmare.

  “Hey, spaceman,” a voice called softly. He turned away from the concourse windows to see Lisa. She’d slipped up on him, her footsteps covered by the dull roar of the refugees and military filling the halls behind her. Her long, auburn hair was tied back, under a white naval cap that seemed too large for her delicate features.

  Robert strode over and embraced her. Her face lay against his neck for a few seconds and he felt a tremble run through her. Then she stepped back, all cool dignity again, for all that no one had paid them any mind.

  “What’s this?” she said. “Somebody might think you were afraid you wouldn’t see me again.”

  “I love you, Lisa,”

  “I love you too. Always will.”

  “Then let me use my influence—”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “I know you’d do anything to protect me, but not that. I’m Blackbird’s captain and where she goes—I go. Darling, there are some things that can’t be fixed with money and even if they could, they shouldn’t be.”

  “What good is my family’s wealth if it can’t protect you?” he said, twisting his hands. “I’d trade every credit if only it could.”

  Lisa’s gray eyes were bright. “It’s bought us more than most get. You’ve been able to meet me every time Blackbird’s put in. Even if it meant diverting one of your family’s freighters, something I shouldn’t have let you do. Few others have had that luxury.

  “The universe is on fire, darling, and I’m one of the firemen. My family has been Confed Navy since there’s been one. I have to do this.”

  “This time I can’t even follow you.”

  “No, not where I’m bound. You and your father have a shipping line to run. One that’s vital to the Confederacy, and Robert, he’s old now. So that’s your post. Mine’s with the fleet.”

  He looked at his wife and was filled with foreboding. “I wasn’t much before we met, you know, a spoiled brat of a rich kid, partying like a fool.”

  She smiled through the tears in her eyes. “We’ve been good for each other Robert. We will be again when this damn thing is over.”

  A claxon sounded overhead and he jumped, fighting back a curse. A voice read out a string of numbers.

  Lisa’s smile faded into a grim line. “That’s my ship’s launch clearance.”

  Now that the moment was here, it seemed unreal. How could she be leaving? They stepped toward each other again and this time didn’t care about military discipline or onlookers.

  “Now,” she said finally. “I want you to stay here. So that this will be my memory of you, until I see you again.”

  “When will that be?” he said, fighting down his anguish and trying to smile. I can’t make this harder on her.

  “I don’t know, Love, and I couldn’t tell you if I did. But I think it will be a long time.”

  He kissed her again. “Return to me, Lisa. Return to New Eire, the house above the cliffs. It will all be waiting for you.”

  She touched his face. “I’m counting on it. Now, Robert you have to let me go.” She kissed him, then turned and walked quickly into the throng.

  He watched her until her slender form in navy dress whites could no longer be seen. “I’ll never let you go, Lisa,” he whispered. “Never. Not if all of time and space were arrayed against me. I swear it.”

  Eleven months later:

  To Robert Fenaday- New Erie

  The Secretary of State wishes to express the Confederacy’s sincerest condolences in the loss of the C.S.S. Blackbird. The vessel having been missing long past its life-support capacity, the crew must regretfully also be considered lost.

  C.S.S Blackbird was operating alone in a classified operation far beyond the front and was last reported in the Fringe Star sector. We deeply regret…

  *****

  December 14, 2809-Enshar Star System: same year

  Telisan stretched his arm over his head, as he had every day since his release from the hospital ship. The injury had kept him from joining his fleet carrier on the final attack on the Conchirri homeworld.

  “Gad, it makes me queasy just watching,” said one of the human pilots draped over a chain in Earheart’s ready room.

  Telisan smiled, a gesture he’d learned from humans. “I’m surprised you humans have only one joint in your arms, must have made it hard to swing from
tree to tree.”

  “Hey Rico,” another pilot called. “The commander knows your family.” The humans began to shout good-natured abuse across the room.

  Seeka, the only other Denlenn aboard, walked in. Like Telisan, he was tall and angular, with leathery skin, a lipless mouth and golden eyes under a rough mane of thick hair.

  “Greetings, young one,” Telisan said in Denleni.

  “Greetings, Mighty Warrior, Ace of Aces.”

  “Ah, knock it off,” Telisan added in Standard to his young friend’s amusement.

  “What word from the bridge?” Seeka asked.

  Telisan shrugged. “We’re still at defcon 4. There’s been no signal, no sightings since we left jumpspace.”

  The young Denlenn’s face looked grim. “Can it be? Can the freighter captain’s wild story be true? Is Enshar destroyed?”

  “I do not see how with the Conchirri fighting in their home system,” Telisan replied. “Pity the freighter didn’t dare get closer to Enshar.”

  “Damn him,” Seeka said. “He fled when he could not raise system control, even dumped his cargo.”

  “Perhaps it is best. Had he gone in, he too, might have been destroyed. As it is we are here with a fleet.”

  “Fleet?” Seeka snorted. “A rust-bucket escort carrier and whatever else was handy in the fleet resupply depot when the call came.”

  “Which included me,” Telisan replied.

  Seeka nodded. “That is the only reason we’d have a century ace like you on a CVE. Trust me; the Black Diamonds are glad to have you here.”

  “Now hear this,” the speaker sounded over their heads, “all senior officers to the bridge.”

  “Now maybe we’ll find out what’s going on,” Seeka said.

  Telisan looked over at the rostrum where his XO, Lieutenant Bailey, stood. “Bailey, get the pilots down to the flight deck. I’m betting we sortie soon. We have time for once; I want everything double-checked.”

  “Aye, aye, Wing.” He turned to the waiting room. “Black Diamonds, on your feet!”

  Telisan nodded to Seeka and sped off, his long legs eating up Earhart’s corridors until he arrived at the bridge. A marine opened the hatchway for him and he ducked to enter Earhart’s bridge, with its multitude of holo screens and stations.

  Officers filled Earhart’s cramped bridge and stared at the multiple views of Enshar displayed on the ship’s view-screens. Telisan, taller than most of the human crew, looked over their heads at the green and blue world they’d come to rescue.

  “They’re all dead,” Captain Demidov said, passing a shaky hand through her gray-streaked hair.

  “Gods,” Telisan whispered, chills running through him. Billions of Enshari gone, along with thousands of other Confederate citizens, the scale of the catastrophe numbed the mind.

  Demidov dropped into her chair, looking weary for the first time in Telisan’s experience. She waved a hand at the expedition’s chief scientist, a dark-skinned human male. “Fill them in, Doctor.”

  The scientist walked over to the screen. “Our probes show millions of corpses on the upper levels of their underground cities,” he said, his voice grave. “We see trains wrecked and strewn off grav-rails. Thousands of ocean-going vessels are still afloat, but drifting or steaming to no purpose.” He gestured at the one of the screens showing a metallic splatter in a field. “Destroyed aircraft litter the planet’s surface. All movement we’ve detected is either robotic or animal in nature. All forms of intelligent life on Enshar are gone. We are assuming some sort of chemical or biological attack, though there is some evidence of direct-fire weapon being used.”

  Demidov nodded to the scientist who sat down at his station and stared at the deck.

  “How can this be?” Telisan asked. “How could a Conchirri fleet strike here? Even at the height of their strength, an assault on Enshar’s defenses would have been grueling. How could they manage it now, in the midst of defeat?”

  “It makes no sense,” Demidov said, staring at the screens as if she could will answers from them.

  “Communications?” Demidov demanded. “Anything new?”

  “No answer, sir,” the officer replied. “I’m detecting some automated signals from Enshar…nothing else.”

  “Scan picked up clouds of metallic debris over Enshar,” a tech added. “They’re in the same orbit as Enshar’s main space stations. The stations are gone.”

  “Any sign of debris from Conchirri vessels?” Demidov asked.

  “None,” he replied.

  “Even if a Conchirri attack achieved total surprise,” Telisan said, “Enshar’s defense would have taken a heavy toll on any attacking force.”

  “Communications,” Demidov ordered, “have the destroyer escort Flamme move to the vanguard. She’s handiest in atmosphere. Relay to the rest of the fleet that we are moving into orbit. ”

  “Have you ever been to Enshar before, Commander?” Demidov asked, staring at the lights of the dead cities.

  Telisan turned to look at the human. It still struck him as odd to be taking orders from a true female, even if of another species. His own people had three genders, male, demi-female and true-female. A male or demi might command a warship, but never a true female. He’d served with her for only a few weeks, since leaving the hospital ship Solace, but Telisan respected her ability.

  “No,” the Denlenn replied. “It is too far from the Conchirri theatre of operations. Before the war I attended university on Denla. I met an Enshari there, Professor Belwin Duna. He is my greatest friend, if he still lives.”

  “I never met one,” Demidov said. “They withdrew from space travel as the war dragged on, hid out in the safety of their underground cities.”

  Telisan forbore to argue with her attitude. Humans measured everything in terms of the war effort.

  Hours passed as more probes dropped into the atmosphere. They found no sign of radiation, chemical or biological agents.

  “We’re not learning anything up here,” Demidov finally announced. “I’m sending down a landing force. I want a complete chemical, biological ordinance protocol in effect. The assault group will go in three shuttles. Two will carry Marines and Air Space Assault troops; the third will carry a scientific and medical team. Commander Telisan, send half the fighters in with the shuttles; keep half with you as a combat aerospace patrol.”

  Telisan snapped a salute and left as launch alarms shrilled. Twenty seconds later he reached Earhart’s capacious hanger deck. His squadron had already manned their Spacefires. Telisan waved to Seeka, who grinned back and vaulted into his fighter. Armored doors dropped and the fighters spilled out. They hit their engines for a quick burn, moving the Spacefires through the formation to take station behind the winged shape of the destroyer escort Flamme.

  “Black Diamond One to Casino,” Telisan called, as his slender fingers raced over the controls. “We are taking position.” He switched to the squadron frequency. “One to Six. Take sections Alpha and Beta. Stick close to the DE and the Wolverines. I’ll fly high guard.”

  “Yes, mighty ace of aces.”

  Telisan smiled briefly at Seeka’s informality. One of these days I shall have to remind him to watch his manners with his elders. He turned his attention to the world ahead. It filled his view, massive, dark and enigmatic.

  Three Wolverine-class attack shuttles launched from the Earhart and headed for the planet. They passed the lowest vessel, the destroyer escort Flamme, which had dropped to within one hundred thousand meters of the surface. Telisan and the rest of the fleet stacked between two hundred thousand and three hundred thousand meters.

  “Fighter Computer,” Telisan said, “display the landing force.”

  The Wolverine shuttles appeared on the fighter’s small video screen. He watched as they cut through the upper atmosphere, heading for the city of Gigor, near the Confed naval base. The big, gray-green camouflaged ships landed far short of the base in a triangular formation.

  Suddenly the picture on Tel
isan’s screen changed. A cloud of dust sprang from nowhere, engulfing each shuttle. Then his screen derezzed and electronics on Telisan’s Spacefire went mad with feedback and distortion. Sparks showered him as his electronics shorted. He cried out, snatching at his fire extinguisher. Telisan’s helmet slammed against the canopy and he realized the fighter was tumbling. With one hand he fought his ship, using the other to trigger the extinguisher. With a fighter pilot’s trained instinct, he climbed.

  “All Black Diamonds form on me,” Telisan called. Only a burst of static answered him. “Black Diamonds to me.”

  He dropped the extinguisher and switched frequencies. “Black Diamond One to Fleet, respond.”

  “This is the Flamme, enemy on board!” The voice cut out as Telisan heard a scream and a shot. His fighter’s screen snapped back on, blurry and crackling. “Select DE Flamme,” he ordered. The escort appeared on the screen. Flamme was tumbling end for end, plunging planetward.

  “No,” Telisan cried as the ship exploded in the Northern Sea.

  He frantically switched to the squadron channel. “Seeka, come in. Seeka!” He tapped the small fighter’s AI screen. “Computer, progressively select all Black Diamond fighters.” The scanner showed him what he feared. Only his section survived. All the others lay smashed into the world below, like the Flamme, or burned to cinders in uncontrolled reentry.

  The captain’s voice crackled in his headphones. “All ships, this is Demidov, general retreat. Climb, damn it—climb.”

  The surviving fleet units fought for control and altitude. No targets appeared for him to lock weapons onto. As he cleared five hundred thousand meters, his Spacefire’s systems snapped back to normal. Telisan craned his head around to glare at Enshar, the deathworld that had reached out and claimed most of his squadron and the Flamme.

  “We are not done,” he swore to the looming world. “We are not done.”

  “All Black Diamonds,” Telisan keyed his mike, “return to the carrier.” The surviving four ships answered his call.