GALAXY AT WAR: Three Space Opera Adventures for the Price of One!
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Drew Avera is a US Navy veteran and science fiction author. He began his writing career in 2012 as a participant in National Novel Writing Month. Since then, he has published more than twenty novels, novellas, and short stories. Some of his stories have been featured in the bestselling Future Chronicles anthologies. Drew lives in Virginia with his wife and daughters.
www.drewavera.com
SCAVENGERS
DREW AVERA
Copyright © 2017 Drew Avera
www.drewavera.com
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1547165731
ISBN-13: 978-1547165735
DEDICATION
For Chloe and Lucy. I love you.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Like most endeavors this was not a one-person show. I was inspired to write Scavengers because of my children. Auden and T’tireva are similar to Chloe and Lucy, but are not meant to represent them. I wanted to tell a story about hope and persistence and the power of family, but I wanted the story to be dangerous just like the real world that every parent tries to shield them from. One day, my kids will have to be on their own and that’s a scary thing as a parent, but a necessary thing. I wanted this story to let them know it was possible to accomplish anything they set their mind to. Hopefully I did that.
I also want to thank my editor, Deanne, for helping me fix the mistakes. There were many.
PART ONE
CHAPTER 1
"Auden, keep your hands to yourself," Dad barked from the command console of our ship. His head full of gray hair shone with a bluish hue from all the lighting in the cockpit. He was only thirty-five-years old, but looked ten years older thanks to the stresses of serving in, and then running from, the Consulate Navy. Mom often joked he went gray because it was to keep him from being easily spotted if he looked different from the wanted posters, but I knew the truth. Being on the run from the Consulate Navy, mainly an old rival of my father’s, Admiral Bora-Donna, was doing nothing more than buying us time before the inevitable happened: we were caught. The constant stress from worrying was taking its toll on him, on all of us, but the brunt of it was on Dad's shoulders.
"She started it," I said. My sister, T'tireva, eyed me warily as she shrank back into a little ball in the corner of the room. Our ship was not very large compared to the newer models, but despite the size, it was comfortable, at least for T'tireva and me. Even with the cramped quarters, T'tireva always found the smallest nooks and crannies to hide away in. It irritated me how she always withdrew as if there was something wrong with being part of the family. It seemed that she liked being alone and I just could not wrap my head around her quirks. Sometimes it felt like she was an alien adopted by our family, an opinion I shared on more than one occasion. She was just too different from me and it grated on my nerves.
"Auden, we've discussed this," my mother said. Her close-cropped, auburn hair did little to diminish her femininity. If anything, it made her look softer and more pleasant, even if Dad did describe it as a little edgy. Before we left our planet, she had long, beautiful hair. I remember seeing pictures of her before we were on the run, before our lives started to fall apart. She was even more beautiful then, before they changed their appearances to keep from being discovered.
"Mom?" I replied with nothing really to say. She eyed me while biting her lower lip. She always did that to keep herself from saying the wrong thing. I often wondered what she was thinking before self-editing her statements. I imagined that what she wanted to say now was not something I wanted to hear.
"Don't," Dad started to say before swearing a few times after some instruments in the command console began going haywire. Between some very choice words and his heavy hand slapping against the indicators, I had a hard time figuring out what was going on. The only thing I knew for sure was that our ship had been acting up ever since we left our home System, and in the darkness of space that was not a good thing.
"Is everything all right?" Mom asked. She peered in to watch Dad from her seat in our living space, her hands held tightly onto the armrests.
"I think we need to land," he replied. His brow furrowed in deep concentration, his eyes focused on controlling the ship, to slow it down before we descended upon a planet, captured by its gravity well. "We won't make it out of here if we lose power, and I'm not looking to freeze to death," he muttered under his breath. He always did that, seeming to feel the need to mention how dire our situation was, but saying it just soft enough so T'tireva might not here.
Still straining her neck to look at him, Mom asked, “What System are we in again, Hawn?" I could hear the concern in her voice. It had been only three days since we avoided being boarded by one of the Consulate Navy's scout ships; and that was after spending several days on the run from smugglers looking to turn coin by any means available to them. The smugglers on the rim of our galaxy did not live by any sort of code. This was the part of space that was most dangerous to people like us. In the poorest reaches of our System, people would do anything to turn coin. No one had to say it, but that was what kept Dad awake most nights. "Is it even safe to land here?"
He turned around with desperation etched on his face and shook his head. "The closest planet in range is Naxela," he answered. He did not make it sound like it was a good thing.
I heard Mom gasp and knew she was unhappy with his response. I did not know much about the planets in the System, but I could tell that we were not about to land on the most hospitable of planets if neither of my parents were happy about it. I looked over at T'tireva, our eyes meeting as our ship began its final descent. I just hoped that it would not be as bumpy a ride as last time.
Chapter 2
To call what Dad did with the ship a landing would have been a slap in the face to any regular landing of a spacecraft in the history of space travel. But it was not for lack of trying. How my dad landed the plummeting hunk of metal when it experienced a total loss of power was a miracle itself, never mind the fact we all walked away with nothing more than a few bumps and bruises. I supposed we should count our blessings and realize that walking away from the crash should feel like winning the lottery. Well, maybe not the lottery.
"Are you girls all right?" Dad asked for the sixth time in as many minutes. Something like panic filled his voice, but after crash landing on the relatively unknown world, who was I to blame him? I knew it was not just crashing the ship on this foreign planet that was getting to him, but also the fact that we have spent several months on the run trying to avoid the Consulate Navy and Pirates at every turn, and now our ship was becoming a problem rather than a solution.
We all assured him, yet again we were not injured. That did not take away from the fact T'tireva and I were shaken from the death-defying freefall from the dark reaches of space. I could not help patting myself down every few seconds as my heart rate fluttered incessantly. I sported a brave face, but inside I was a nervous wreck.
"I think our ship may have taken some damage when we left the last System," Dad said as he surveyed the hull to the ship. "Maybe one of the Consulate Navy guys got a lucky shot after all." He ran his hand over some buckled fuselage in the back of the ship. There was some evidence of burn fragments scorched away that looked like jagged teeth against the smooth, round contours of the rest of the ship. There were also signs of a fuel leak, the suspect being a ruptured fuel line behind the skin of the ship, where whatever ruptured our hull.
"Can you fix it?" Mom asked as she fiddled with the ring on her thumb. It was the Academy ring my father earned when he graduated. He was going to be a pilot for the Consulate Navy before T'tireva and I were born. Instead, he was framed as a smuggler and discharged unceremoniously. According to Mom, they were lucky. Most convictions in the Nav
y resulted in immediate execution. Dad did not become a fugitive, though, until one of his classmates rocketed to the rank of Admiral and decided to start his own war with Dad. I did not know much about it, but Mom made it sound more like a personal vendetta than any kind of actual crime. That was more than two years ago, but then things escalated quickly over the last several months when bounty hunters came looking for him. That was when we left our home world behind.
"Yeah, I just need some scrap to patch the hole and some fuel line to reroute the damaged return lines so we don’t catch fire. I'm sure there is a scrapyard somewhere on this world," he replied as he looked up at the two suns and squinted against their harsh light. "We need to figure out which direction to go," he said. All around us was nothing but open landscape and it looked like a glass ocean reflecting the light of the two suns against what looked like a smooth surface. But when I reached down to touch the ground, the sharp edges of the rock felt like a jagged knife's edge.
I watched him lick his thumb and lift it in the air, trying to get a feel for the wind gusts. It was a trick he said he had learned as a child, but it made no sense to me. "Let's head that way," he said, pointing across the expanse of rough, sandstone terra. I groaned as I looked at how unforgiving the hike would be as the heat baked us to the bone. Why could we have not crash landed on a more hospitable planet, one with crystal-clear oceans and an armada of fine restaurants? Looking out over the expanse, I would have settled to have at least a few scattered trees to use for shade. But there was none of that.
Dad started walking away from the ship, as surefooted as I had ever seen him. How he knew there was some form of civilization located in that direction was beyond me, but without questioning him, we followed. Dad always said that there was safety in numbers, and by that logic, we had no other choice than to tag along.
Chapter 3
What looked like a sandy desert across the horizon turned out to be the equivalent of a sharp, razor-like, sandstone tarmac. I could not help flinching every time the wind blew, half expecting a mouthful of grit with this drought ridden terrain. Even with my tunic draped over my face, the tiny particles found a way to get to me. I made a habit of closing my eyes and holding my breath each time the wind kicked up. It was a double-edged sword in that the breeze beat back the heat but was accompanied with its own problems.
As I always did, I fell back with my father while Mom and T'tireva walked ahead of us. He took pride in being the protector, always keeping an eye out for danger. In many ways, I wanted to be just like him; brave and defiant. I never said so, because I did not want to offend my mother.
"What is with this planet?" I asked. The view from this valley revealed little about how life here was able to survive. It seemed to be about as hospitable as most moons as near as I could tell. Yet, we were breathing atmosphere, and before landing, Dad scanned for life and the scan came back positive. The only possibility was that those people lived on the other side of the ridge.
Dad looked around for a moment and shook his head. "This System is a lot different than the one we came from. I've never been here or studied much about it, to be honest. I do know it is inhabited, which means we need to be careful, stick together like I’m always telling you and your sister," he said. He slowed down and scanned the horizon, using the scope he carried with him so he could see farther.
That was not much of an answer, but at least we knew this planet supports life in some form, I thought. That was enough to have a little bit of hope for salvaging our ship, at least. And the sooner the better, I thought.
"Hawn, look ahead," mom shouted, "is that a pillar?" Her finger pointed towards a dark column jutting out from the ground. It curved slightly as it reached out towards the sky in a haphazard spiral design. It was hard to make out any other details from so far away, but it was definitely a sign that we were not alone here. That whatever life was on this planet was intelligent life.
"It looks that way," Dad answered, raising his voice to compensate for the high-velocity wind kicking up around us. "Let's be careful as we head in that direction," he said as he adjusted his holster so his gun was by his side, "be on the lookout because I don't know what in the world that is, and I have a hard time thinking whoever lives here is going to appreciate us crashing our ship on their planet."
We continued walking, and the closer we got to the pillar, the more the details became visible. I hated to say it, but there was little beauty in such an ugly, inhospitable place. I just hoped that the people who created it had beautiful personalities.
Chapter 4
As we rounded the crest of the ridge, I noticed the pillars leading into the city were megalithic. What we saw before reaching the top of the ridge were merely the tips of the structures reaching towards the sky like mighty spikes. I saw that several different types of metal comprised them, some shiny and others dull, and the biggest feat was trying to figure out how people were able to build them without their collapsing due to their size. It was one of the most amazing things I had ever seen, both on our home world and off.
"Stay close, children," Dad said as he took the lead, picking his way down the other side of the summit. Thankfully, it was not a steep drop-off, but slipping would still hurt if our bodies made contact with the rough surface. His right hand was tucked inside his tunic where I knew he was gripping the handle of his gun. He often said most fights were won without throwing a punch so long as you did not bring a blade to a gunfight. I was hoping not to find out, either way. I saw no immediate threats as we made our way towards the city below, but I trusted Dad’s intuition. If he felt the need to keep a grip on his weapon, then the danger must be real.
We walked single-file between the gates as we entered the city, losing sight of the twin suns for a few moments as we trailed through a tunnel dug out of the ground. Even in the dim light, I could see impressions from the tools used to chip away the sandstone. I resisted the urge to run my fingers along the wall. Instead, I continued following my family into a world in a System I knew nothing about, but it was clear that the people here were able to make an inhospitable world their home.
As we cleared the underground tunnel, the twin suns beat upon us, their light revealing the city hiding behind sandstone mountains. None of the buildings were very tall, but the valley revealed a sprawling cityscape, and along the edge of the eastern wall was a place that resembled what we were looking for, a scrapyard. The mountains of junk metal were nowhere near as impressive as the mighty pillars composing the gates of the city, but they looked like salvation for us considering the damage to our ship.
"Do you think they have what we need?" Mom asked.
Dad groaned, whispering something under his breath before answering, "I have no idea, but there's only one way to find out."
"And if they don't?" Mom asked, placing her hands on her hips, biting her lower lip.
I looked up at Dad, waiting for his answer. “I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get there," he said.
To me, it sounded like as good of a plan is any. I just hoped beyond hope that we could get off this planet and back to somewhere resembling home.
Chapter 5
The twists and turns in the streets were enough to make you feel dizzy and lost. The people of Naxela, with their pasty white flesh, eyed us warily as we walked past. Several whispers about our race and how we did not belong on their world made it to our ears, but we continued our trek, focused singularly on the mission at hand: repair the ship and get off this world as soon as possible. Dad led us deeper into the city and towards the eastern wall, to a place where he hoped to find the materials needed to repair our ship before the Consulate Navy found us. It was just one of the time sensitive situations which added stress to my parents’ lives. He never said anything directly to T'tireva or me, but I could feel the sentiment behind the words when they thought I was not paying attention. I often wondered whether or not they knew I felt that stress in my own life despite their best efforts to keep it from affecting me.
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"How much farther do we have to go?" T'tireva asked. She was like Dad when it came to patience. Neither one of them had much of it at all. But her question resonated with me as my feet and legs were tired from walking.
"It shouldn't be too much farther," he replied, his words half irritated and half desperate. Dad ran his fingers through his graying hair and wiped the sweat onto his trousers. His hair was slicked back on his head and darkened by the moisture, making him look like a much younger version of himself.
"I’m sure it’s close," mom said. She always maintained a sense of encouragement even when Dad was frantically trying to avoid the dangers related to a life on the run. This was just another setback and she wanted to ease the tension as best she could. I just wanted it to be over with.
The smell of grease wafted in the air as a gentle breeze ushered through the alley where we were standing. It could have been nothing, but my gut was telling me we were closer to the scrapyard that we originally thought. "I think it might be this way," I said, pointing down a long alley where the light of the suns disappeared into darkness. Taller buildings, cut out of the sandstone in this area, blocked our view beyond the alley and the horizon.