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Star Odyssey - Rain's Gambit

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by T. J. Jones




  Rain’s Gambit

  TJ Jones

  Contents

  Copyright

  Reading Order of STAR ODYSSEY:

  Dedication

  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

  Chatper 25

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Appendix

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Backmatter

  Copyright

  STAR ODYSSEY – RAIN’S GAMBIT

  COPYRIGHT 2017 T.J.JONES

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.

  Editor

  Amanda Brown

  Cover Art

  Omardex and Jeff Brown

  Reading Order of STAR ODYSSEY:

  CRY HAVOC – Stellar date 47361.81 (2370 OEC*)

  THE LAST NIGHT ON THE BADEN’S CALL - Stellar date 54841.64 (2378 OEC)

  RAIN’S GAMBIT - Stellar date 54843.35 (2378 OEC)

  *Old Earth Calendar

  To be notified of future books in the Star Odyssey universe, sign up for TJ’s announcements here: http://www.subscribepage.com/jonestj

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  Check out his website at http://jonestj.com/

  Dedication

  For my Mom and Dad, who showed me that true love is selfless, blind, and comes free of charge.

  Chapter One

  Stellar date: 54843.35

  Starbase 1, United Solar Alliance shipyard

  Pre-launch crew boarding cycle

  For station air, it was cleaner than normal. Recycled air on space stations always had an odd tinge. Commander Adrian Rain figured he could tell the difference because of all the time he spent as a fighter pilot in the Independence’s fighter bays. Working on all the parts, smelling the Reaction Control System thrusters and exhaust, he had become very aware of how different air could smell. In his younger days, this would have been a much more exciting time for him. Assignment to the newest and largest ship in the fleet was every Alliance officer’s dream. Never mind that he would be serving as its Executive Officer. He was going on 10 years into his career now. Disciplined enough he could contain any excess excitement to a degree of course.

  Adrian dragged his wheeled duffle bag behind him leisurely. When he had learned of his posting to the Alliance’s new Jupiter class starship, he was certainly excited to see the ship. His service during the Dominus War taught him the elusive art of patience. During the conflict, he had been rash, even a little reckless, but he usually accomplished his mission. Since then he had mellowed out some.

  “Son, you need to slow down at some point and stop trying to race through life,” his dad always told him. Took long enough for the lesson to settle in, but there was still a little Maverick in him. He likened that to taking after his father, who had always been a bit of a charmer and a gambler of sorts.

  There she was, laid out before him, from stem to stern. Measuring in at 1,070 meters long, 362 meters wide and 150 meters Tall, she was the finest piece of Alliance engineering built to date. The Jupiter class USS Odyssey, largest and toughest vessel in the fleet that wasn’t a super carrier. He would stake his commission on that. An impressed whistle eased past his lips as he smiled at his new assignment.

  “Hello there, darling,” he said softly to the ship through the viewport.

  He tugged his duffle bag closer and leaned it against the bulkhead as he pulled out his comm device and took a few shots of the ship. “Danny is gonna be jealous of this,” he said smugly as he wrote a text and sent some of the images to his little brother.

  “Oh, the Odyssey? Yeah, I designed her engines. Fastest ship in the fleet despite her bulk,” the reply read.

  “Hey now, she’s got all the right curves where she needs them,” he sent back and stuffed the device back into his pocket. He could chat with his little brother later. For now, though, he was just interested in the ship before him. He was sure many of his old peers from the Indy would mock him for wanting to be on such a huge tub. He had to admit; knowing it had a small complement of fighters was tempting. Nevertheless, he had made the commitment to make something more of his career.

  “We’re gonna go places, you and I. Just you wait.” He grinned as he bumped the palm of his fist against the plasteel window.

  Inside the ship was just as nice. The carpets were scarlet with grey trim. The halls had a light silver color scheme to them and the lighting was warm, inviting. The Odyssey was definitely a comfortable ship. Making a home of it was definitely something he could do. Especially since their mission was to embark on a five-year mission of discovery. The Alliance wanted to chart the farthest reaches of its borders and projected five years for the Odyssey to do it. Five years was a long time to be away from home. Things could change. They often did.

  He found his quarters on Deck One with no problem. Not terribly far from the lift either. It was nice being one of the top fish. He could remember that on the Indy it would take him almost thirty minutes just traversing the ship to get to his posting. Now he could be on the bridge in as little as five minutes. That was an extremely welcome benefit of the job. Even if it meant setting up duty rosters and filling out performance evaluations for all the junior officers — a small price to pay.

  He pushed the enter key on the personal controls for his quarters and the chime buzzed followed by the doors swishing open for him.

  He drifted inside and blinked. The lights were off since the ship was running on a skeleton crew after its shakedown. At least he would not have to worry about anything in his room being missing. Still, no sense bumbling about in the dark. “Computer, full illumination, please.”

  “Confirmed, full illumination,” a robotic feminine voice repeated his command.

  He smiled, glancing around. “Much better. It’s a little too quiet in here, though. Computer, play some music, please. Let’s go with Piano Quintet in G Minor, Op 49: Allegretto quasi andantino.”

  “Confirmed musical selection: Piano Quintet in G Minor, Op 49: Allegretto quasi andantino.” The soft tune of a piano filled his room in a rolling gentle medley.

  “Now that’s more like it.”

  Dropping his duffle bag off in his bedroom, he made his way to the living area and gazed out to the stars. A soft grin cracked his features as he mentally relived some of his more boisterous youth being the youngest ace of the Alliance and dogging the Dominus forces.
Yeah, the Alliance took many losses in the beginning, but they were technically outmatched. No one could have predicted the Dominus forces’ weapons would have a destabilizing effect on Alliance shield tech.

  It wasn’t until the Alliance started building dedicated warships that they were able to turn the tide. Something that ran affront to the Alliances stated goals of exploration and peace. The grin faded. Everyone paid a price for that war. Were some costs too much? It was only by merit of all the members of the Alliance, its sheer diversity, that it was able to overcome the Dominus with the help of its allies as well. The Dominus were powerful and overbearing, but the Alliance was able to outgun them three ships to every one Dominus cruiser. It reminded him of onset of the old war on earth in the mid twentieth. Allied forces were using mass produced weapons to the Axis’ more technical and powerful weapons. It became a war of attrition. An expensive one.

  He shook his head, clearing his thoughts and trying to focus on the music. Find his calm again. He had never imagined he would find himself being the grizzled old vet. The notion he could think of himself as old made a laugh slip past his lips.

  “Me, the old war dog. Who’d have guessed?”

  At least, until he would look in the mirror and see the patches of gray hanging out on his chin whenever he didn’t shave. Having a salt and pepper beard didn’t sit well with him.

  He tightened his uniform jacket and figured he’d go sneak a peek at the bridge. The trip was short, and the doors parted way revealing an almost sterile smelling bridge. It bore all the nuances of an innovative cruiser. All the consoles used the latest interface design. All touch sensitive of course with a mix of the 3d holographics that was becoming the new interface fad. Smooth and sleek, it was like sitting in the driver’s seat of a racer vs a sports utility shuttle.

  A few engineers were on their backs under some terminals doing last minute maintenance. He rounded the tactical console and found the command chairs. He took the seat to the left of the captain’s chair. It was dark tan leather and quite comfortable. To his left was a pull-over terminal that allowed him access to most of the ship’s computer functions — he assumed so that he could fill out those personnel evaluations and duty rosters while he was on shift.

  “Well, I doubt I’ll be getting bored,” he joked.

  “Not likely, no,” he heard a feminine voice respond from across the bridge. He glanced up and found the captain standing just outside her office. He stood up quickly and she waved him to relax.

  “You must be my XO. Commander Rain, right? I’m Captain Garrett.”

  She was tall for a woman, just an inch less than six feet, with dark brown hair that was full, chocolate eyes, and ruby red lips. She struck him as the hot mom type. Her uniform bore the gold rank of captain. Easy, fly boy. Settle down now. You just met her, he joked with himself. He wasn’t as much of a Casanova as he liked to let others believe he was, but he figured it never hurt to passively play the part, either.

  “Yes, ma’am. Just got in from base.”

  “How do you like the ship so far? I understand you’re used to the Independence and the Baden’s Call. She’s a big ship herself.”

  He nodded; thankful she was familiar with the Indy, at least on some basic level. “Yes, ma’am. I like this one mighty fine. I started out in fighters, but eventually a man’s gotta break out of his cocoon and move on to bigger and better tubs.”

  She smiled and nodded. “I like that. I can see why an officer with your service record made the cut. I’m glad I chose you of the candidates. I see big things from you, Commander.”

  He bowed his head politely. “Thank you, ma’am. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

  She stepped forward from the doorway to her office and the doors closed behind her. She took a seat in the command chair and traced her hands along the armrests. “This is the second ship I’ve been in command of. The last one was the Cassiopeia. A tough little ship, somehow she lasted through the Dominus War only to be mothballed at the end. Survived the Battle of Three Nebulae, yet killed by some admiral with a pen.”

  She sighed, gave a shrug and then gestured around the bridge. “But now I have this new shiny ship. With more crew and more responsibility.”

  Adrian took a seat next to her. “Can’t be all bad. Decommissioning is a good way to end tenure for a ship. I had to watch the Indy go up in flames. Her engines had taken a bad beating and we were getting pounded. Cruisers closing in to circle her. We rigged her to blow and launched all her high yield missiles just before hand. Knocked out five cruisers and crippled a battle cruiser.”

  Captain Garrett nodded. “One carrier for five cruisers? Seems an even trade to me.”

  Adrian nodded. “I thought so too. With Captain Walker dead on the bridge, things went downhill fast. I was trying to keep them afloat and keep my fighters focused on the mission.”

  “You had quite a handful to deal with.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thankfully, Admiral Howell was on site with the Baden’s Call to lend Command support. Gave us fighters a deck to land on once the fight was done.”

  “I read about that. That was the last time you flew a fighter wasn’t it?”

  He glanced down, just now realizing how much he had actually missed it. “Yeah, been about five or six years now. Captain Walker’s last order before that engagement were to have me attended command school. Once the Call returned to the Citadel I was transferred under Admiral Howell’s staff and off I went. Haven’t sortied since.”

  She nodded and turned to face him slightly. “When I was told they were pulling me from the Cassi, I wasn’t sure what to think. I imagine it was about the same way for you. Being told you were coming out of the cockpit. Being put on command duty on the bridge.”

  He nodded agreeing with her. “Pretty much, yeah.”

  She pulled a tablet out and traced a finger down his record, scrolling through it. “Says here you did a short training stint with the Excalibur?”

  “Yes, ma’am. That’s where I took my command exam and got pinned — my commander.” He tapped the gold rank pin on his jacket.

  She nodded as she continued scrolling. “You must have made some good impressions. Much of the faculty staff put in recommendations for you to be posted here after that. You should be pretty proud if you aren’t already.”

  He held his hand up. “Oh I am. No need to fret there. Besides, I think my mother’s got enough pride in me to last a few lifetimes. My old man too, even though he’s not the mushy type.”

  That cracked a smile on the captain’s expression. “Oh?”

  “Yeah, Pop’s a proud old dog. He’d just as soon put on his hard hat and go to work in the fields. He’s not much for interacting with family. Mom was always the head of the house.”

  “Sounds cozy.”

  “Yeah, it is. One of the last few ranches in the States now. The food printers made them all but obsolete anymore but it’s a good living.” His stomach groaned loudly and he winced at the noise. “Sorry, sounds like my tummy is getting fussy. Reckon I’ll head to the mess and see what I can rustle up.”

  The captain nodded to him. “Feel free. We’ll be docked for another day or two before we set off. In the meantime, settle in and introduce yourself to the crew as you see them.”

  “Will do, ma’am.”

  The lift ride down from the bridge was quiet. His chat with the captain had left him feeling a little nostalgic and homesick. He had wanted to grab a small bite, and then maybe swing by the hangar bay and peek in at the hold. He knew he didn’t really have any business in that area, but he missed the hustle and bustle of being in a fighter hanger.

  The primary mess hall was located on Deck Ten at the forward most point of the bow. However, it was probably more appropriate to call it a lounge than anything else, since the food printers took care of the actual meal prep. It was actually more of a bar with servers to run orders to and from the food printers.

  It was spacious on the inside. Lots of seating and ta
bles. He spotted a few gaming tables ready for card playing and a couple set up for more traditional games like chess. He nodded satisfactorily — a good place to come and relax. He was pleased so far. The lounge on the Indy left much to desire. This mess hall was comfortable and roomy. The furniture, all tailored in a shade of gray to complement the scarlet carpeting.

  The Indy was never anywhere near this comfort-focused. He could remember all the cold, hard metallic surfaces. This mess hall’s decoration made one feel like they were in a place they could call home. Now there was a thought. How long had it taken the Indy to feel like home? How long would it take this place to feel like the home he wanted? The Ody was a hot posting in the fleet.

  Knowing the captain had chosen him to be the XO for it above all the other applicants was flattering. He had received his share of honors and medals, sure. This was something above that, though. She had chosen him, singled him out. He only hoped he could live up to his reputation. He worked at being the leader he would become. The mess was empty save a few early birds, so he would have to serve himself for the moment.

  “Computer, one chai tea, cold, half milk, and a ham sandwich please.”

  The food printer chirped and the telltale robotic feminine voice repeated his order. Then the food printer made his order. He took the glass and drifted to the window to gaze out at the stars.

 

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