Cygnus Rising: Humanity Returns to Space (Cygnus Space Opera Book 1)

by Craig Martelle

  “Let’s not make our guests feel welcome. Any and all ideas to drive them off the ship are welcome, and we need those ideas sooner rather than later. Every section, do what you can. I could have never imagined saying this, but here it is. Prepare to repel boarders.” The captain closed his eyes and pursed his lips, only for a moment. He got up and rushed from the command deck, leaving it empty as he headed for the locker where his spacesuit hung.

  Briz was frantic in engineering. He had a number of ideas but only he remained in his section. The Wolfoid had been killed and Ellie was on her way to the planet. Briz knew how to make things explode, but his precious ship! He ran through the scenario in his head–shuttle docks, airlock opens, bad guys enter wearing space suits and carrying blasters, bad guys cycle the system, and bad guys enter the ship. Once on board, they’d have to be dealt with one at a time and the Rabbit was wholly unsuited for that.

  When the shuttle docked, the Concordians would still be on board. He had the EM drive and the entirety of the ship’s power at his disposal. He pulled up his terminal, checked available materials, and dispatched the external maintenance bot to weld a bracket aft of the port airlock and attach it to the ship’s main power. He sent a quick note to the captain, suggesting they concentrate on the starboard airlock as he’d take care of the one on the port side.

  His small Rabbit fingers flew over the keyboard as he programmed the bot to do his bidding and make his trap work as he intended. He hoped that they would both be ready before the shuttle arrived. He had no way to test it and wasn’t in the best state of mind. Briz was angry, almost to the point of being incoherent. How could anyone do something like this when the Cygnus-12 came in peace? Fury seized him and he gritted his teeth, nose twitching rapidly and ears drooping as he concentrated on the task at hand.

  Beauchene and Allard, the Rabbits from the garden deck, hopped to the locker and took out their laser pistols, checking the charges and heading for the stairs. They’d set up a warm welcome for anyone entering the ship using the starboard airlock. Their spacesuits were bulky and hindered their vision, but getting exposed to the vacuum of space wasn’t their idea of a good time.

  Rastor, the other Lizard Man on the crew, went to his quarters where he kept a copy of his family’s spear, a unique weapon topped with a trident. He hefted it appreciatively, gripped it tightly and ran down the corridor after the Rabbits. He’d left his spacesuit in his quarters. If there was going to be a fight, he wanted to be free. He knew that he couldn’t stand toe to toe with enemies carrying blasters, but he could hold a hatchway and prevent them from accessing the stairs.

  Save the ship.

  Former DI Katlind stood her post in maintenance, following what was going on. She put on her spacesuit as instructed, then grabbed a metal bar and wrapped tape around it to make a handle. The airlocks were on the same deck where she worked. With a test swing of her weapon, she felt as ready as she’d ever be. She bit her lip and with purpose, walked from the maintenance shack.

  “Jolly! You have to help us defend the ship,” the captain pleaded, talking into the microphone of his spacesuit.

  “I am programmed to respect the life of all intelligent creatures. I fear that there’s little I can do to help. I can block corridors and secure hatches, make their movement through the ship as trying as possible, but I can’t do anything to kill them outright.”

  “Anything you can do to keep them off this ship or eject them once on board would be greatly appreciated. I expect they’ll be wearing space suits, so if we send them into space, you won’t be killing them,” Captain Rand suggested.

  “Semantics, Captain. If we’ve disabled their shuttle and they are tossed into space, what is their chance of survival?” the AI countered.

  “It’s better than if I get my hands on them. No one can take this ship. That reminds me. Disable the controls on our remaining shuttle. Reactivate on the voice command of any two crew members only.”

  “The shuttle is locked out and the instructions are updated and have been sent to all crew members. Commander Daksha and the landing team are still airborne. They’ve flown past the designated landing coordinates and are looking for an alternative, as far away from the city as they have fuel for. The crew have elevated pulse and blood pressure, but otherwise they are physically fine.” Jolly didn’t add “for now” as he could only speak for the present. He was at a loss as to what the future held. He was trying to run projections, but had no information regarding what the Concordians were willing to do or capable of doing. He’d have to reconcile his programming with sending suited figures into space if he was to be of any help to his crew.

  ‘How can I stand by and watch them be killed? Maybe there was a misunderstanding.’ Jolly continued to try to reason with himself over what the next few hours would bring. The actions he knew he had to take contradicted his programming. If he took no action, there were more contradictions. The dichotomy demanded more and more of his computing power.

  Briz typed furiously as the maintenance bot completed its work. Two I-beams supporting a post, shaped with a spear point welded onto the exterior of the spindle. A brace in the shape of a T anchored it. Briz needed to finish the programming to shunt power through a cable attached at the spear point’s base at the right time. He watched the external view as the shuttle made its final approach.

  Beauchene and Allard stood in a hatch down the corridor from the airlock, their laser pistols aimed forward. Rastor stood behind them, spear ready to defend them should anyone get too close. Two humans from maintenance joined them, large wrenches in their hands as they dreaded having to use them.

  “We didn’t start this!” one of the men shouted. “It’s up to us to finish it, and then we rescue our crewmates!” He finished with a hearty yell and breathed heavily, psyching himself up for the encounter. The Rabbits were anxious. When they fired at the ‘cats, they purposely aimed well over their heads. They didn’t want to hurt anyone, but if they lost the ship, they’d lose their garden, and the Rabbits just couldn’t have that.

  Run and Hide

  Pace stopped the steep descent so he could fly the ship past the landing coordinates provided by the Concordians. The shuttle slowly descended as he took it out to sea, banking slowly to turn back inland, far to the planet’s south, trying to put a mountain range between the shuttle and the shining city.

  “I suspect we won’t get as far away as we’d like,” Master Daksha suggested, not disappointed but resigned with their situation.

  “No, but we won’t make it easy on them,” Pace insisted as he touched the engines to increase altitude, hopping the ship over one of the foothills leading to the mountain range. Clearing the top, the shuttle started dropping again. He could risk no more power if he wanted to land. They raced past a small village on the side of the hill as they headed toward a large valley, he skimmed across it, using the thrusters to invert the ship and the main engines to slow their breakneck speed. The passengers were thrown against their restraints and the ‘cats howled as the engines jerked the ship to a mid-air stop. With the nose pointed skyward, the last of their fuel was expended to set the shuttle on its tail. The engines powered down and the shuttle began the long process of pulling oxygen and hydrogen from the air to refuel the tanks.

  “Honey, I’m home,” Senior Lieutenant Pace said flatly as he powered the systems down and opened the back hatch, extending the ladder and slide. One by one, the crew unbuckled and used the handholds under the seats to let themselves down. Chirit hopped off Pickle’s shoulder, diving through the hatch before unfolding his wings, getting enough air to level out just before he hit the ground. He flew in a circle around the shuttle, higher and higher, sharing his view over the mindlink with the other crew members.

  Livestock had been in the field when they rocketed in for their landing. Most of the animals had run toward the far end of the valley, though a couple hadn’t cleared the area in time and were dead, fried beneath the flames of the engines’ last burn. The others
opted for the slide instead of the ladder. Cain dropped Lutheann and despite his warnings, she extended her claws which sent her tumbling. She hit the ground as a rolling ball of fur, but was immediately up and racing toward the nearby trees.

  Chirit flew toward the village on the side of the hill, opposite where they landed. Men. Coming toward them. In the valley. With weapons. Rifles? Blasters?

  The others cleared the shuttle and took stock of what they had. Not much. They hadn’t planned for survival in a hostile environment. They had survival food bars and water packs for a crew half the size of what occupied the shuttle.

  “I’ve made a huge mistake,” Master Daksha said out loud, probably not intending to. He hovered at the bottom of the slide where the others gathered, minus the Hillcats who had already run into the woods.

  “It’s what all of us wanted to do. They’ll pay for their duplicity, make no mistake,” Cain said. Pace nodded his approval. Cain started running in the direction the ‘cats had gone.

  ‘Jolly, button up the shuttle please,’ Commander Daksha said over his neural link as the others pushed him in front of them as they ran.

  Chirit kept an eye on the men as they entered the valley. They were a long ways off, but didn’t hurry when they pointed toward the figures running away from the small spaceship. The group of Concordians continued hiking toward the landing site. They had a long ways to go and Chirit estimated that it would take them a good twenty to thirty minutes to reach the shuttle.

  “We have that long to run or set up an ambush. What do you want to do, Master Daksha?” Pace asked.

  “We can’t shoot first. We just can’t. We have to win without fighting, or at least by hurting them as little as possible. I’ll leave the tactics to you, Pace. It’s not in a Tortoid’s nature to fight, although I am able to use the thunderclap that my father, Master Aadi, passed to all his children.” The thunderclap was a Tortoid’s sonic blast, generated from within its mind. When used against a single enemy, the results were devastating. When used against a group, it incapacitated them long enough for others to rush in and disarm them. Master Daksha prepared himself to use it in defense of his crewmates.

  Pace pushed Master Daksha as the landing party ran into the forest, slowing their pace to avoid the trees and better navigate the rocky terrain and bushy undergrowth.

  “Pace, hold up!” Cain called. He’d heard the stories passed down through his family about the battles that his ancestors fought. He had played Braden versus the Bat-Ravens while growing up. All the kids in his family did. He’d always fancied himself a warrior. As the others stopped, he looked at his blaster. Play time was over. Now it was time to step up.

  “Look at this area,” Cain started, pointing to the small hills on either side of the cut they were running down. “Let’s continue this way, tear up the undergrowth a bit to leave a trail, then we circle back on both sides overlooking this area. When they follow us through here, we drop that big tree in front of them, then we can fire down on them if they don’t want to talk. We talk first, but we’re ready to back it up with our blasters.” Pace nodded and gestured for Pickles and Stinky to follow him as he pushed the floating commander in front of him. Cain and Ellie would take the opposite hillside. They waited, then made sure to stumble through enough bushes to leave a trail. After that, they carefully picked their way up the hillside and backtracked to gain the best vantage point. Pickles was designated to cut through the tree trunk as he was less accurate with the blaster, by his own admission. They figured that he simply didn’t want to shoot anyone.

  They couldn’t blame him. They didn’t want to either. Cain needed to know that he wouldn’t fold under the pressure of battle, that he’d do what he had to. Ellie was cold and calculating about it. She hefted the blaster to get the feel and practiced aiming. She dialed in a narrow beam and settled in to wait.

  The Hillcats appeared behind them as if by magic. ‘Where do you need us?’ Lutheann asked.

  “Let us know when they enter this area, then cut off their retreat?” Cain asked, although it wasn’t a question. He wanted their approval of his plan. Without a word, Lutheann and Carnesto padded away, back toward the mouth of the cut.

  Chirit continued circling high above the group of men, seven of them, all carrying hand-held blasters, three with rifles, three with bows, and one older than the rest carrying a walking stick. They had reached the shuttle and walked around it, looking for a way in. The ladder and slide had been retracted when Jolly buttoned it up for them. The men seemed confused by the sounds coming from the ship, the sound of the oxygen/hydrogen generator refilling the storage tanks. The trail of the crew was easy to follow and soon it was obvious that was what they meant to do. They lined up, the men with the bows in front, then the older man, and the three men with rifles behind. They kept their weapons at the ready as they entered the forest, walking far more carefully than how they’d crossed the valley.

  Chirit kept his Hawkoid eyes on them as they moved. Cain was pleased that they were following as he hoped. If they hadn’t, there was no other plan. Although the group was well-armed, maybe they weren’t used to operations against hostile humans. That gave them all hope. Cain shared his thoughts with Daksha, who felt the same. People who weren’t good at making war might not be an enemy.

  The group of men continued past the ‘cats, who perched silently in the trees and out of sight of the men, who never bothered to look up. Cain chalked that one away for future reference. People tended to think two-dimensionally.

  Into the area between the two groups of ambushers, they walked. Ellie raised her pistol over the rise before her and took aim. On Cain’s order, Pickles fired, cutting cleanly through the large tree’s trunk, starting a few small fires around it and beyond it. The men stopped when the blaster’s narrow beam crackled the water in the trunk, popping and sizzling. The tree toppled, not directly across the cut as intended, but angled, back toward the men, who started shooting haphazardly at the hillside.

  One Down, One to Go

  The first shuttle matched the spin of the ship and eased in toward the portside airlock. When it touched the extended ring where the two ships would create a seal, Briz said one word to his terminal. “Now.”

  The EM drive cycled, instantly adding one gravity of thrust. The shuttle canted aft, impaling itself on the extended rod between the two I-beams. When it penetrated the skin of the ship and hit metal, power surged along its length, sending as much electricity as Briz thought the Cygnus-12 could spare into the Concordian shuttle. The lights on the intruders’ ship exterior exploded as blue lines of power arced over the shuttle, sparking various systems to destruction. The shuttle ripped itself free of the power rod and drifted aft, yet another dead object floating in space.

  “Yes!” Briz told his terminal. “Secure the EM drive,” he added. He hadn’t informed the crew of the maneuver and hoped that people weren’t injured with the spaceship’s sudden jerk forward.

  Jolly was noticeably absent, but for the electrification stunt, the Rabbit didn’t need him. Briz expected the AI was busy with the other shuttle. He tried to raise Jolly, but couldn’t. Briz had never run into that before as his neural link with Jolly resulted in instantaneous communication and collaboration. Briz imagined the intruders had somehow cut Jolly off from the rest of the ship. That thought terrified him. He dug into his circuits and programs looking for the problem and soon forgot that a second shuttle was bearing down on them.

  The second shuttle matched the spin of the ship, just like the first, and eased toward the airlock. With the size of the spindle section, it was possible that the second shuttle hadn’t seen the demise of the first, although the instantaneous loss of communication should have suggested that something was wrong.

  The second shuttle didn’t seem bothered. It eased in, clamped onto the ring, and created the seal. Men rushed into the airlock and cycled it. They weren’t wearing spacesuits, surprisingly, which could help the crew of the Cygnus-12. First one man, then a secon
d leaned out the hatch, pointing hand blasters. The Rabbits fired together. One shot scorched the bulkhead beside the hatch and the other hit the man full in the chest. He howled in pain and fell backward. Blasters were pointed out the hatch and fired down the corridor without aiming. Most weren’t close, but the sheer volume of fire made the Rabbits retreat. The two humans and the Lizard Man waited. Blaster fire became better aimed and much of it splashed the open hatchway where they stood.

  A crewman ran at the intruders from the opposite side, happy with the distraction from the others. Ensign Katlind swung at the first Concordian she saw, caving in his skull. She hit him a second time, just to be sure. She’d never killed anyone before. The ensign leaned back to swing at the next intruder coming through the airlock, but his blaster struck first. She gaped at the hole in her chest, frozen, surprised that she wasn’t thrown backward. The pipe fell from fingers that she could no longer feel. Her legs giving out, she slumped against the bulkhead, wondering if this was it. Lindy didn’t wonder long as the intruder shot her a second time and walked away.

  ‘Jolly, secure this hatch and blow the airlock. They aren’t wearing suits! Jolly, where are you?’ Rastor pleaded with the AI to help them as the first boarder stuck his blaster through the hatch. A viciously swung wrench broke his forearm and sent the blaster to the deck. The man called Bendall followed through, hitting the Concordian in the chest. Two blasters appeared from behind the injured man and fired into Bendall’s face. He screamed, but only for a second as he crumpled. The second man, Gaven, dropped his wrench and picked up the dropped blaster, depressing the trigger and sending a beam of fire through the hatch at the boarding party. He kept the trigger depressed as he hosed the corridor with fire. The beam sputtered and the blaster died in his hand, but it bought them time. The survivors had retreated to the airlock and were plinking at the hatchway, short bursts of tight beams, hoping to catch a wayward arm from one of the ship’s defenders.