The Lunar Gambit: Starship Fairfax Book 1 - The Kuiper Chronicles
Page 12
The bridge doors hissed open and Caspar walked in. “Good to see you up and about, Lieutenant.” Lucas nodded at her. She gave a brief salute, then took her post. The doors opened again and Darren stepped inside.
“We’re not going to Titan,” he said.
“No.” Lucas turned to look at his console, punching in a command to put their new coordinates on-screen. “You were right about getting intel from the pirates.”
Darren’s eyebrow twitched.
“Right about the intel, I said—not about the method.” Lucas gazed at the screen. “According to them, Taurius is not all he appears to be. And he’s babysitting something we had right under our noses, until it was stolen from us.”
“The nukes?” Caspar turned, facing him.
“When did you run your last top-down munitions inspection here, Lieutenant?”
She flushed. “Just before we left the Colonies, Sir. Captain Harris wasn’t concerned about rotating inspections, since we were flying under a truce.”
Lucas nodded. “It wasn’t the nukes they were after. It was what was hidden in the casings.”
Caspar sat back, deflated. “We were never armed?”
“It was a setup all along. We were a bunch of glorified drug-mules without ever knowing.”
The doors opened again, and Tompkins and Mulligan strolled in.
“Drugs?” Caspar’s brow furrowed.
“Not just drugs,” Lucas said. “The drug. Prophet.”
“Whoa.” Tompkins walked to the vacant gunner station and took a seat. “Isn’t that stuff illegal, like… everywhere?”
Caspar scoffed. “A kilo of Prophet could buy the Fairfax twice over. If all our nuke casings were full of the stuff—”
“Then we were hauling a legitimate fortune,” Lucas said. “The kind that buys peace. Or war.”
“Yeah, but, you know—” Tompkins gestured with his hands in the air. “Illegally.”
“So you said.”
“So,” Mulligan tucked a stray strand of red hair back. “We hauled it to Ceres without knowing?”
“Technically we followed it to Ceres without knowing,” Lucas said, “since the pirates relieved us of it when they shot up the Fairfax.”
“But they must have had people there who knew about it, who arranged to have it on board,” she said. “You think it was the Holubs or the Amsel Brothers?”
“Neither,” Darren said. Lucas turned to look at him. As usual, he stood with his arms crossed, his voice quiet.
“Then who?”
“Judging by our coordinates, you know that already.”
“Yes, but please.” Lucas spread a hand out toward him. “Enlighten the rest of us.”
Caspar snorted. “We’re heading inward. It’s the Empire.”
Tompkins whistled. “Glad I got my affairs in order before I signed on back in the Colonies.”
Lucas frowned. The same thoughts had been rolling in his mind. Was it foolhardy to plunge in-system without a go-ahead from the Council, or any warning to Earth forces? But then he answered himself that they had just passed by Mars a week before to pick up Taurius in the first place. And if Taurius was a victim here, and had been traded along with the Prophet, then the Empire’s interest lay in his rescue anyway. If Taurius was up to something traitorous to his government, then his punishment lay before them, too. And if, in a worst-case scenario, he was acting only as their tool, and it was the Empire who had used the Fairfax for nefarious ends under the pretense of peace, then it was before the Council that Taurius should answer.
In any case, they needed to retrieve him.
“So we’re heading for Mars,” Caspar said.
Lucas nodded.
“Well, that’ll be a few days, Sir.” Tompkins stretched his back and cracked his fingers. “I don’t suppose you’d be interested in taking on a massive alien invasion in the meantime?”
Lucas smiled. “I’d love to. Lieutenant Caspar, would you do the honors?”
“Sir.” She began to call up the modded sim.
“War games?” Darren asked, an eyebrow lifted.
“Shh.” Mulligan left his side for the comm station. “Only stay if you’re going to help.”
Lucas settled back into the chair, and, for the first time, he liked the feel of it.
The end
Author's Notes
Hi Again Reader,
Thanks so much for hanging out with me and the Fairfax crew! I had a blast writing this book, and I hope you’ve enjoyed reading it.
If you want to learn more of Darren’s story, you can get a FREE prequel short-story, “The Trials of Io,” by signing up for my mailing list! You’ll learn about future releases and other great deals, too. And if you haven’t already nabbed your free copy of my other short story, “Totaled,” check it out! You’ll get a glimpse of Caspar’s first tour of duty.
Lastly, I cannot tell you how much I appreciate ratings and reviews, whether you leave them on Amazon, Goodreads, or a blog or social media. I’m a new author, and any feedback I can get will help me with future work.
There’s much more to come, so be sure to check out my Amazon Author Page or my blog for links to more fun reads, or to join my mailing list.
Happy reading!
Best,
Benjamin Douglas
Email: benjamindouglasbooks@gmail.com
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Turn the page for a FREE PREVIEW of my mailing-list exclusive story, “The Trials of Io!”
The Trials of Io: Preview
Darren Jet secured his helmet and checked his vital readings one more time to make sure the suit was working. He was sure something would come loose, or his power pack would fail, or his spatial comp would shut down and he would wander blindly into the path of a rogue meteor. Years of experience with his own luck had taught him to anticipate as much. The last thing he actually expected was to survive the trials whole, unscathed, and victorious. But he had to try. It was the only way to pass into the Arms of the Sons, the most elite training program in the solar system. And the only route to his ultimate destination: to join the Sons of Jupiter.
“Ready, kid?” The pilot’s voice over the comm was high and choked with fat. He seemed entirely too jolly to be ferrying people around in the radiation zone. Darren glanced at his readings one last time to make sure his own levels were safe. He looked up at the pilot through the window to the cockpit, aware he hadn’t answered. Numbly, he nodded.
“Could’a fooled me,” the fat man mumbled. “Drop is in thirty, that’s three-zero seconds. Kite secured?”
A moment of panic. Was it? He turned in a half-circle like a dog after its own tail. Ah, yes. It was secured. He nodded again.
“Best of luck.” The man’s face soured. “Oh,” he turned. “Almost forgot. Last set of instructions.” He pointed through the window and Darren heard a beep, followed by a snap as a tiny compartment in the wall popped open. Darren ducked down to peer inside and spotted a drive, then snatched it out and plugged it into the data slot on the forearm of his suit. Instructions now? He was about to go into free-fall over one of the most hostile surfaces in the system, and they were amending the mission?
“My luck,” he grumbled.
The fat man smiled without it reaching his eyes. “Ten, nine, eight, seven…” His hand hovered over the controls. Darren turned his back on him and closed his eyes, focusing on slowing his breath.
“Two, one. Happy trails, sucker!” The pilot laughed, a vile, throaty sound, and the hatch hissed open. A breeze swept into the cargo hold, just enough to ruffle the pants of Darren’s suit. He opened his eyes and watched the craggy surface flying past tens of meters below.
No point dragging it out, he thought. He stepped off the edge and dropped into the thin atmosphere of Io.
There wasn’t much resistance for the kite to sail on,
but that was alright. There wasn’t enough gravity to kill him from the fall, either. Just enough to break a leg or two if he landed funny, he reminded himself. He pulled the string. It was soundless, but he felt the gentle tug at his back as the kite expanded and locked into place, an enormous pair of silica-fabric wings hovering over him. His fall slowed and he swooped forward, sucking his teeth as he watched the surface grow closer.
He was happy not to see any of the brilliant red molten rock anywhere near him. Io suffered from that fascinating planetary malady, volcanism—one of the reasons the Arms of the Sons had chosen it as their proving grounds for recruits. The constant tug of Jupiter kept the moon’s core hot, and eruptions were volatile and unpredictable.
This led to the second reason for Io to serve as home of the Trials. The surface was covered with razor-sharp crags and edifices, a veritable obstacle course of death. Darren grimaced at the thought. Unfortunately, he could see plenty of that below him now.
His eyes scanned the horizon but he caught no glimpse of the shuttle he was supposed to find. His mission, along with that of the other recruits, was to survive a journey across the lunar surface to an escape shuttle, and leave Io. If he managed to get off alive, he was in.
That reminded him. He punched in a few commands on his arm device, and a vid popped up inside his helmet. It was a man sitting behind a dark wooden desk, the banner of the Arms over one shoulder and that of the Sons over the other.
“Greetings, recruit.” His voice was dry and old, like himself. “And welcome to the Trials. Should you survive, we will soon meet. Should you not, know that your sacrifice for the Sons is not taken lightly.” He paused for effect. Darren kept an eye on the surface. His spatial comp readout said he was gliding a mere fifteen meters above ground.
“You already know that you and nine other potentials have been dropped on the surface with the goal of finding the shuttle and leaving. I now give you a new, crucial piece of information.” The man leaned forward. “The shuttle will only hold two.”
Darren waited for him to complete the sentence. Two what? Kuiperian masseurs? If only. His stomach tightened and he cursed under his breath.
“I’m afraid it’s first-come, first-serve. I can only hope you’ve had the foresight to arm yourself. There are no combat rules. Your mission objective remains unchanged: get out alive. Whichever two of you manage to claim the shuttle and leave the surface will be embraced by the Arms of the Sons. The rest of you…” He smiled tightly. “Your sacrifice is not taken lightly.” The vid flashed off, replaced with an uninterrupted view of the rough terrain.
Darren cursed. No, he had not had the foresight to arm himself. Neither had he ever killed anyone. This day had just got a lot more interesting.
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