Drake's Rift: Taurian Empire

by Nate Johnson

  She smiled back up at him and squeezed him in a tight hug.

  “I checked,” he said. “It hasn’t been claimed. With the double land-grant I’ve got as a veteran and your allotment, we could claim four hundred and eighty acres. More than enough to own the valley.”

  She looked up at him, unsure of what he was saying.

  “But of course, we’d have to move onto it, build a house,” he continued.

  Her brow narrowed in confusion. “But what about the Marines?” she asked. “You’d have to resign.”

  He nodded slowly, “If you wanted, I would. It’s either that or take those orders to Montlake.”

  She continued to frown up at him. “I thought you wanted a Battalion. That is what you’ve worked so hard for these last few years.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. Yes, he wanted that, but he wanted her to be happy more.

  “If I take those orders, then they’ve got me for six more years. We’d do two on Montlake with the Battalion, and then have to move to Taurus. Admiral McKenzie has let me know that the Emperor want’s me on his staff now, but is willing to let me have my Battalion first. He knows I have to have that command if I want to make Colonel.”

  “The Emperors staff?” she asked with disbelief. “What does that mean?”

  He sighed heavily. “I’d be overseeing his security. It’d mean we’d have to live at the Palace. You’d have to attend the Palace balls, you know, stuff like that. It’s sort of expected of military wives. If the Empress traveled somewhere, she might ask you to go with her, especially if I am going with the Emperor.”

  She pulled away from him to study his face.

  “Let me see if I’ve understood this correctly. You are telling me, you are taking me to Montlake, all the way on the other side of the galaxy, a strange and new place, where I will spend two years in domestic bliss. Then I will have to live in the Palace and become friends with the Empress. To top it off, I will have to attend parties on the arm of the most handsome hero in all of the galaxy. And you are afraid I might not be happy?”

  Dex shrugged his shoulders. The idea sounded preposterous to him. That was why he had wanted to show her the valley. To give her an out.

  She smiled up at him and slapped his shoulder. “You idiot, you do realize that you’ve just described every woman’s dream. Add a couple of kids, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

  He studied her for a moment, trying to decipher if she was being truthful or not. He well knew she would deny her own feelings to please him. He didn’t want that, especially not now. They were mapping out the rest of their lives.

  She looked back up at him and slowly shook her head. “Honey, your valley is truly beautiful. I thank you for bringing me here. But it is not what I want. Besides, if we lived here, we’d destroy its beauty. No, leave it as it is so we can always come back for a visit.”

  “But the constant moving,” he asked with a frown. “The never knowing where we will be next. The pomp and ceremony. I can’t ask you to put up with all of that.”

  She laughed and said, “Honey, I always dreamt of adventure. Of seeing new things and going new places. One thing about being married to you, it will never be boring. For that, I thank you.”

  Dex took a deep breath and nodded. The Marines it is then, he thought as he smiled to himself. Why not? With this woman by his side, he could do anything.

  Turning, he looked out over the valley. Maybe he would claim it anyway. Keep it like it is. Pristine, pure, perfect.

  Life was good he thought as he draped an arm around his wife’s shoulders. Yes, life was good.

  The End

  Author Notes

  I would like to thank you for reading this story. I hope you enjoyed it. As always, I would like to thank my family and friends. No author is an island. We absorb experiences from the people around us and twist them into what we need for the story.

  I want to thank fellow authors Anya Monroe, Eryn Scott, Chris White, and Kim Loraine. Their help has been immeasurable.

  If you enjoyed this book, I thought you might enjoy my book, ‘Intrepid’ I’ve put the first two chapters here for you to try. Check it out. If you need to contact me. Email me at AuthorNateJo@gmail.com. Or follow me on facebook.com/authorNateJo. I am always interested in hearing from my readers.

  As an additional note, I wish to thank Ms. Sheryl Turner for her assistance. As always, I couldn’t have done it without her. Any mistakes are mine, all the good things are due to her help.

  As many of you may have noticed. This story was inspired by the battle of Roark’s Drift in Africa during the Zulu wars. But I also took elements from naval action at Trafalgar and the U.S. Marines at the Battle of Guadalcanal.

  During my military career I worked with many Marines and Sailor and was always impressed with their dedication, can do attitude, and the fact that they were just do darn good at what they did. I hope I was able to capture some of that on these pages.

  And last, I also wanted to comment on the dedication. Mr. Harold Snodgrass was one of the smartest men I ever knew. He spent his youth walking barefoot behind a mule on a central Texas farm. Twenty years later he was maintaining communication equipment for the Apollo Space program. He left poverty behind him and lifted his family up into the middle class. Through out his life, he sacrificed for others. And I loved him dearly.

  Intrepid

  Chapter One

  Petty Officer Second Class, Erik Tanner, hated briefcases. He hated everything about them. The way they looked, their leathery smell, the cold plastic handles. Most of all, he hated the people who used them.

  The only people worse were farmers.

  I mean, come on, he thought. Everyone has their own data flex embedded in their hip containing all of the known recorded information in the universe. Why would anyone need a briefcase? The pretentious little twits.

  Standing at the bottom of the shuttle’s staircase, he tried to ignore his pounding headache and shoulders that screamed every time he moved. That last night of liberty was always the worst, or the best, depending on how you looked at it.

  Scanning the people entering the terminal, he shook his head, and then winced at the movement. Most of them carrying useless briefcases, all of them rushing to be someplace else. None of it really important.

  God, how he hated being stuck here waiting. Way too much brass, too many people running around wasting their lives on unimportant things. Planet-side was great, but he preferred the brothels and bars of downtown, at least there they were honest about the screwing they were going to give you.

  A person broke from the crowd and headed his way. Uh-oh. The Captain was pissed. Erik could see it in his walk across the tarmac. That infamous scowl burned at full strength.

  Ship’s coxswain and unofficial bodyguard, Erik Tanner, lowered his head and tried not to smile, relieved to know that scowl wasn’t directed at him.

  Slamming his gloves into his hand, the senior military officer looked like he wanted to launch somebody into the sun.

  “Get the XO on the line,” he barked at Tanner.

  Erik jumped up the stairs into the shuttle and began flipping switches and turning dials to bring up the Intrepid. The Captain could have done it with his personal communicator, but the shuttle’s comms were better.

  “Intrepid, this is Intrepid One. Capt’n requests to speak to Commander Tompkins,” the young coxswain said into the console.

  “Intrepid One, this is Intrepid. Roger. He’s right here,” the distant watch stander said, as he stepped out of the way for the XO to move onto the screen.

  Erik got up and let Captain Freeborn get into the pilot's seat. He looks like he wants to strangle someone, the coxswain thought. Tanner desperately wanted to hang out and listen in, but this probably was one of those times when discretion was the better part of valor, he decided.

  Turning to leave his Commanding Officer some privacy, he started for the exit, but the Captain held his arm and shook his head, indicating he should stay
.

  “No need, the whole crew is going to know in a minute.”

  “Captain?” Commander Tompkins said.

  “It’s true Tom, they were serious,” Captain Freeborn said through gritted teeth. “We are now official babysitters. Please have the crew start making preparations. We’ll be another couple of hours, then bring ‘em up.”

  The XO’s jaw dropped before he could catch himself. “Yes, Sir,” the second in command said shaking his head in disbelief. “Did they say why?”

  The Captain chuckled and said, “Admiral Harris was not in the mood to explain himself. I do believe that he expects us to follow orders, just as he is.”

  The XO gasped, everyone knew that only two men could give orders to Admiral Harris. Either Duke Lexington, the Minister of Defense, or the Emperor, himself. Captain Freeborn nodded at the XO’s shocked face and said, “That’s right, and I happen to know that Lexington is on the other side of the galaxy.”

  The XO came to attention, his face a little paler than normal.

  “Yes, Sir, we will make all of the necessary preparations. I assume that extra rations will be coming up?”

  “Yes, and you’re going to have to find some place to stow it all. Good luck,” the Captain said to the stunned officer.

  “Okay, I’ll let you go, for now, you’ve got enough to keep you busy. Intrepid One, OUT,” Captain Freeborn said, then reached over and pulled the connection.

  He turned to Petty Officer Tanner and shook his head, then laughed at the young man’s shocked expression.

  “Not much we can do about it, Tanner. Orders are orders,” he said, looking up at the ceiling, as if trying to fathom the idiocy of senior officers. “Go ahead and refigure the trip back for an additional fifteen passengers. I’ve got some errands to run and will return with our young guests in about an hour.

  “Yes, Sir,” the young petty officer said, swallowing at the thought of what the Captain had just told the XO. What kind of idiot would do this to a starship, in fact, the best starship? It didn’t make any sense.

  Captain Freeborn walked back towards the terminal without another word, leaving Tanner to take care of things.

  He started working the computer to adjust times and weights, and wondered if they’d be bringing their bags, or if that stuff would be coming up later. Deciding it was better to be safe, than sorry, he punched in the numbers for every possible scenario he could think of.

  Making another sweep of the gig, he made sure everything was in place and ready. A sense of pride washed over him, as he placed each seat belt in place. The ships gig, or shuttle, was his responsibility. He was young to be assigned such an important job, but hell, he’d earned it. It didn’t hurt that he’d been working for the Captain since he jumped out of boot camp.

  First four years on the ISS Svenson off of New Terra, then for two years on the Intrepid. Wetting his finger, he rubbed at a spot on one of the rear seats.

  A feeling of intense satisfaction coursed through his bones. It was a long way from the fields of New Kansas. He almost had to pinch himself to believe it was true.

  You had to love the Imperial Navy. Where else could a twenty-three-year-old farmer, who barely graduated high school, be given the responsibility of piloting a multi-million credit spacecraft? In fact, they paid him. Laughing to himself, and shaking his head at life in general, he gave the craft one last look and sighed in approval.

  If a man could love a cold hard machine, Erik loved his shuttle.

  Like all of the crew, he had a lot of different jobs. Lead deck hand, Number one fireman during GQ, and senior watch stander for the 3rd watch. But, coxswain had to be the best. Granted, the computer did all the work, but still, he had to be ready to take over if necessary.

  Climbing down the stairs, he placed himself at parade rest. Folding his hands behind his back and setting his feet apart, he stood at the entryway and waited.

  After a short period, the far terminal door opened, and Captain Freeborn stepped out and held it open. A gaggle of people exited and started towards the shuttle. The group was made up of three adults and twelve teenagers, all of them dressed in orange temp suits.

  “Civilians,” Tanner cursed under his breath.

  Their eyes shined with anticipation, whispering behind their hands, they jumped around like a group of Valerian flounders.

  They were all in the seventeen to twenty-year-old range. High school seniors to college freshmen type. Young, perky, and privileged, the kind of kids who probably expected to be waited on hand and foot.

  Suppressing a shudder, he came to attention and saluted the Captain, his eyebrows rising in question. Were they really going on a glorified field trip?

  The Captain smiled, then turned and addressed the group.

  “This is Petty Officer Tanner and our shuttle pilot, please listen to him.” Then, turning back towards the junior enlisted man, the Captain raised his eyebrow and said, “Tanner?” failing to hide a smile at his subordinate’s displeasure.

  The Petty Officer’s stomach rolled over, as he realized that he and the rest of the crew were going to be locked up in an iron tube with these idiots for the next six months.

  The group was made up of six boys, six girls, two male teachers, and one female teacher. Boy, was this going to be different? It was bad enough having civilians aboard, but women! He had to fight to stop his eyes from rolling back into his head, already imagining the problems they were going to cause.

  Erik looked out over the crowd.

  “If you’ll step aboard, take a seat, we will get you situated.” He stood at the bottom of the stairs as each passenger walked pass. Eyeing them and mentally adding up their weight. Satisfied that one of his projections would be usable for the trip.

  A young brunette, prettier than a New Kansas kitten, took her first step onto the stairs. A breath of wind brought him a brief scent of her tantalizing perfume, and his knees almost buckled.

  It reminded him of the high meadows in the Blue Mountains on a spring day. Pure, innocent, and full of potential. He had to swallow to regain his composure.

  The Captain cocked an eyebrow, as if to say, ‘don’t even think about it, spaceman.' Erik chuckled to himself and shook his head. This was going to be a long trip.

  When they were all aboard, he bound up the stairs and stepped into his shuttle. The passengers were milling about looking for seats. How hard could it be? There were thirty-six chairs. To top it off, some idiot was sitting in the first chair of the first row.

  Looking down at the young man, Erik bent over and whispered, “That’s the Captain's seat. You need to move.”

  The young boy looked at him like he was speaking some unknown language, something without nouns and verbs.

  “Now!” Erik barked, and the kid cringed like he’d been shot. He looked like a tall skinny rabbit ready to jump out of his own skin.

  The boy leaped up, scooted over one seat, then looked back at the Petty Officer, silently asking if this was okay.

  Erik nodded in approval, then turned to watch the rest of them get seated. Once they had finally settled in, he ran them through the safety procedures, making sure they could locate their oxygen hookups, having them test their soft globes, etc.

  God, I’ve become a glorified flight attendant, he thought to himself. Once complete, he walked down the aisle and made sure everyone was strapped in.

  “The barf bags are in the pocket in front of your chair. It’s tradition that everyone cleans up their own puke. I don’t open the door to let you out until everything is squared away,” he said, scowling at them all to make sure they got the message.

  Seeing that they were as ready as they were going to get, he stepped to the door and nodded to his commanding officer. It was another one of those silly traditions; the Captain didn’t get onto the shuttle until everyone was settled in.

  Captain Freeborn ducked his head through the door and sat in his seat, while Erik pulled the door shut, slamming the handle into the lock, and made h
is way to the pilot’s seat.

  A gasp went up from someone in the back.

  “Aren’t you going to pilot the vessel, Captain?” For some reason, Erik was sure it was the pretty brunette.

  The Captain laughed, as he buckled his belt, “I’m not qualified, Miss Johnson.”

  “But Captain, isn’t he a little young?” the older male teacher asked.

  Erik had to hide the shock he felt. The Captain had answered the first question, a surprise in and of itself. But, to be questioned on the same subject a second time was unthinkable. It was like saying you didn’t trust him or something.

  “I assure you, that while Tanner may appear few in years, he is more than ancient when it comes to experience. Besides, it’s not like this is a starship,” the Captain said, then pulled out his data device and started on his reports.

  Erik ignored the comments from the back and finished making preparations.

  The takeoff and trip were uneventful. It was almost like he knew what he was doing or something. A few sick passengers, but not many. He did notice that the brunette wasn’t one of the sick ones, making him smile inside. Yep, most definitely, a long trip.

  .o0o.

  Miss. Nora Johnson stared out the portal at the starship hanging in darkness. Her home for the next six months. One step closer to breaking away, she thought. While it was doubtful her father would even notice she was gone, eventually, he would find out. By then, it would be too late. Besides, they’d never think to look for her on a starship bound for an exploratory mission. Not Miss Nora, never Miss Nora. A lifetime of good grades and following their silly rule would make this their last consideration.

  She squiggled back and forth in her seat with excitement; it was hard to believe this wasn’t all some kind of dream.

  The sparkling ship glistened with the reflected sunlight. It was surprisingly small. A long metal tube hanging in space. She knew all the details and dimensions. A hundred and eighty feet long, forty-two feet wide. Three decks separated into Operations, Living, and Engineering.