Space Cruiser Musashi: a space opera novel

by Dean Chalmers

  But he was quick to smile at her.

  “Come, come, Commander. I can see you need to talk. How are things going?”

  Brattain shrugged and sighed. “I gave up with the reg violations hit the triple digits.”

  Xon’s quarters were cluttered. There were books everywhere; actual paper books, many of them leather bound. They had to be either valuable antiques, or excellent reproductions.

  A holographic projection spanned one wall; an ocean at sunset, with a tall-masted sailing ship in the ancient style out on the water in the distance, silhouetted by the orange light. There was something sad about the scene, as if that ship were about to embark on a long and burdensome journey.

  The Doctor removed a pile of the antique books from a chair so that Brattain could sit. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I haven’t tidied up recently.”

  He went over to the wall, touched a button, and a cabinet slid open. He removed a small, clear, glass bottle, filled with a brownish liquid, and two small glasses. He set the glasses down on the counter nearby, and poured the liquid into them from the bottle.

  “Colonial Peach Brandy,” he explained. “Special treat for first time customers.” He handed her a glass, and then cleared some books from a nearby chair and sat down to face her.

  “You have a lot of old books,” Brattain said, wanting to say something but feeling foolish for stating the obvious.

  Xon smiled. “Relics and souvenirs from my walkabouts. A few even come from Earth, or so I’ve been told.”

  “Really?” Brattain said. “They’re in remarkable shape.”

  She picked up one volume, which rested at her feet, large and bound in black leather. “The… King James Bible? What’s this one about?”

  Xon set his drink down on the floor and took the book from her delicately. “Careful, it’s very old. It’s a kind of history. Mostly anecdotes and creation myths, but it was the basis for a few ancient religions. Many in the Colonies still revere the book.”

  He set the volume down gently on another pile of books at his feet. Then he turned up to look at her, his eyes scrutinizing her.

  The Doctor seeks a diagnosis, Brattain thought.

  “So what brings you here?” He asked.

  “Well,” she said, “I’m having a hard time doing what’s right here. I wonder if it’s my mindset, or this ship.”

  “Hmm,” Xon said. “How do you know what you’re trying to do is right?”

  “Because I’m trying to make this ship run the way it’s supposed to. I’ve seen how a good crew functions, how command functions… Efficiently, knowing their duties and focusing on them. It bothers me that this crew isn’t like that. I should be working to get them there.”

  “And why is that right?” Xon asked.

  “Because it’s my duty,” Brattain replied. “It’s what I’ve been taught all my life. It’s how an officer needs to think, needs to be.”

  Xon nodded sagely. “There’s a saying in the Colonies: Wisdom comes when you stop looking and live the life the Creator intended for you.”

  Brattain shook her head. “Is that from the Musashi book? Sounds like the same kind of thing.”

  Xon laughed. “I don’t think the Colonists share our Captain’s fascination with ancient martial philosophy. No, it’s just a folk saying. It’s a way of saying that, sometimes, doing what’s expected of you isn’t the same as doing what’s right.”

  “What?” Brattain asked. “You don’t think I’m right for this position?”

  In a way, it would be a tremendous relief if he told her that, indeed, he didn’t think she was a good fit. She’d been feeling that way herself for some time…

  But Xon shook his head and smiled reassuringly.

  “Oh no, no… That’s not it. I’m just saying you should think about your reasons for wanting what you want. Make sure they’re really your reasons.”

  “Are you trying to be cryptic?” Brattain asked. “Sorry, that was rude. It’s just… I mean, I think I need a concrete suggestion, an action plan of some sort. Between you and the Captain with his Void philosophy, I—”

  Xon shrugged.

  “Advice gets more consideration if you have to work for it, but something obviously brought all these doubts to your attention. Whatever it was, consider it. Don’t push it away. If your life isn’t making you happy, figure out why.”

  Brattain studied her drink, and finally took a sip. It was incredibly sweet and she could feel the alcohol tingling in her mouth.

  “Don’t be shy,” Xon said. “Brandy’s an ancient cure for nerves.”

  He finished his own glass and Brattain gulped it down. The drink warmed her stomach and she had to admit—she did feel a little bit settled.

  She stood and nodded to Xon.

  “Well thanks, I think. I mean, for your time. I hope it wasn’t a waste of time for you.”

  Xon stood and took her hand in a firm, paternal grip. His palm was rough and his skin felt warm.

  “Try not to be too disappointed,” he said. “Things like this don’t get solved in one session. But I was present when the Captain requested you. Admiral Ashok asked him why, with his record, he didn’t try for the best crew he could. The Captain replied, ‘I have the best crew, Sir, they just don’t know it yet.’”

  “I want to believe that,” Brattain said, turning to leave.

  “Keep trying, Commander,” Doctor Xon said. “Keep trying, and absorb the evidence all around you. Then the belief will come.”

  15

  On the bridge’s main viewscreen, the tiny lifeboat drifted in the vastness of space.

  “Lifeboat, Sir,” Lieutenant Reynard reported. “Republic issue. Though it’s very old, plasteel construction. The distress signal’s automated; we haven’t been able to reach anyone on the comm.”

  “What about the thermals?” Brattain asked. “The EM scan?”

  “Power readings are very low,” Reynard reported. “But if there’s someone in there, it’s possible they survived this long. They may be Colonial pirates—their so-called Militia. Or it could be a trap.”

  Brattain was surprised to hear Kane respond. “We’ll take that risk, but we’ll be careful. I don’t want to leave anyone drifting out here.” He nodded to Brattain. “Commander, you may continue.”

  “Mister Sivarek, prepare the cargo tow,” she ordered over the comm.

  The Engineer’s nervous voice came back: “Uh, slight problem there.”

  “What?”

  Sivarek’s image appeared, holographically projected in the air in front of her. He sat on the floor of the engineering deck, amidst scattered machinery and components, links of glowing conduit coiled around his neck. “Um, that system’s going to be offline for a while. Sorry.”

  “Offline?” Brattain bit her lip, tried to stifle her anger. This Engineer’s behavior was consistently erratic. Couldn’t Captain Kane see that?

  “Mister Sivarek, why were you performing maintenance at this time?”

  “I didn’t, ahh, plan to,” the engineer responded defensively. Despite his inhuman, artificial eyes, his facial expression was like that of a nervous child. “It was the jump. Feedback from the gravity spike. These conduits are ancient, decades old. I… I haven’t had a chance to replace them yet. And the couplings are fused. I can do repairs but it’ll take a few hours. I’m sorry, Commander, but the ship still needs a great deal of TLC.”

  “TLC?” Brattain asked. “If you can get a list of components, we can transmit to a nearby port and—”

  “No,” Sivarek said. “Never mind. I just… I just need time. But, might I suggest using the mag array in Cargo Bay Two for a cushioned landing? Because that’s online. I mean, um…” Suddenly looking panicked, he pulled off a nearby panel, stuck his head and arms in, and fumbled for a moment before emerging. “Yes,” he said, “Sorry. Just getting paranoid. Mag array’s definitely online.”

  “Alright,” Brattain said. “Ensign Cruz, we’re going to have to intercept it manually.” />
  Cruz looked back at her. The pilot had changed her hair again, and it now hung down around her face in green ringlets. Her expression was one of utter delight. “Woo! No problem. I prefer it the old-fashioned way, myself.”

  “Just remember,” Kane said, “You’re not swatting a fly, Xue.”

  “Hey,” she laughed, “I can be gentle when I wanna be.”

  “Alright,” Kane said. “Jesus, keep scanning for hazards. Give me comm, shipwide. Doctor Xon and Sergeant Molokos, stand by at entrance to Cargo Bay Two, emergency precautions.”

  “Can we have external view?” Brattain requested.

  A miniature, holographic Musashi appeared at the front of the bridge. The tiny lifeboat, shaped like a blunted cylinder, was nearby.

  Cruz’s hands flew over her console. The ship’s maneuvering thrusters fired in rapid sequence. The ship swung around and rolled.

  The gravity spike largely compensated for the inertia, but Brattain could still feel it pressing her into her seat as the holographic display showed the ship’s movement.

  The ship’s open cargo bay rotated towards the lifeboat.

  “Not so fast,” Brattain said. “We need braking thrusters, I think.”

  That lifeboat’s going to slam straight into our hull, Brattain thought. Why isn’t the Captain saying anything?

  But Cruz’s maneuvering was deft. The Musashi’s vector angled the opening of the bay precisely toward the lifeboat, and on the holographic display the lifeboat appeared to slide into the bay.

  Brattain watched as the bay door slid closed.

  “Well,” Captain Kane announced. “Perhaps we should see what kind of fish we’ve caught, yes?”

  16

  The cargo bay was half-filled with neatly stacked plasteel crates and cylinders pressed tightly against the walls.

  In the center was the lifeboat, about the size of a groundcar. Its battered, beige hull was unassuming, but it clearly bore Republic markings.

  “It’s an antique,” Brattain said.

  Captain Kane nodded. “One of ours, but yes—very old. Registry’s been scraped off.”

  Brattain sighed. “So it is pirate.”

  She stood beside the Captain in the cargo bay. Doctor Xon was there as well, with a nurse. They stood back near the exit while Sergeant Molokos and several of his Drone marines were gathered around the lifeboat itself, their plasma rifles raised as a precaution.

  Brattain had to admit that having the burly Drones here did make her feel a bit more at ease.

  “But we’re sure it’s safe, Sir?” She asked.

  “Yes,” Kane said. “Minimal energy signatures.”

  Doctor Xon consulted the portable medical scanner that he wore on his wrist. “Life signs are still there, but minimal. Whoever is in there is alive… But they urgently need our help.”

  Sergeant Molokos stepped forward. His thick blue fingers were surprisingly deft on the external controls on the lifeboat. He depressed the old-style, square manual buttons on the keypad in the prescribed sequence.

  There was a hiss as the seals on the lifeboat door released. The door slid up, sliding away into the hull of the lifeboat.

  The Drone marines stepped forward, their rifles at the ready, the lamps mounted on the ends of their weapons illuminating the interior of the lifeboat.

  It was dark inside.

  They swept their lights back and forth until a human figure came into view: gaunt, unconscious, and deathly pale, lying on the cushions inside the life pod.

  A small figure.

  “My God,” Xon said, “It’s a child.”

  “I’ll retrieve him, Sir,” the nurse said.

  “Thank you, Mister Khoury,” Xon replied, and nodded for the nurse to go forward.

  The marines parted, and the nurse stooped down and slowly stepped into the pod. He picked up the child—a young boy—carrying him easily as if he weighed nothing at all, and brought him out of the pod.

  He’s just a kid, Brattain thought.

  She wasn’t very good with children’s ages—he was what? Maybe eight years old?

  His eyes were closed, his cheeks sunken. His chest was moving as he breathed, but just barely. He wore a rough woolen shirt and denim trousers.

  Definitely Colonial, Brattain thought, but then, I don’t think we ever really expected anything else.

  “He’s severely dehydrated,” Doctor Xon said, “Vital signs weak.”

  “Get him to the infirmary,” Kane ordered.

  Xon nodded back to him, and he and the nurse rushed the boy toward the exit from the cargo bay.

  In the meantime, Molokos had bent down, easing his big body inside of the lifeboat. There were only a few objects on the otherwise bare cushions in the interior.

  There was a flat, rectangular object with multi-colored scribblings on it… And what looked like paper-wrapped styluses in various colors scattered about.

  Drawing instruments, Brattain thought, but that’s it?

  “Why’d they send the child alone?” Brattain asked Kane. “Unless it was some sort of accident, and he launched the pod himself?”

  “I don’t know,” Kane said. “We’ll have to see if there’s any data on the lifeboat’s computers that can tell us anything. Hopefully, the boy recovers and he can talk to us himself.”

  17

  They stayed out of Doctor Xon’s way while he and his medical staff tended to the boy. Brattain supervised in the cargo bay as techs scanned every centimeter of the lifeboat—but they found very little.

  By the time they were finished, Xon had given them the all-clear to enter the sickbay to speak with him. Brattain entered just on the heels of Captain Kane.

  The boy was the only patient currently in the infirmary. He lay, naked, on a nanofoam medical bed, his body covered in a cocoon of pinkish gel. Clear tubes fed liquid into the cocoon.

  The entire wallbehind him was covered with a projection showing various numbers and graphs representing the child’s vitals. One section clearly showed the outline of his brain, and displayed indications of the electrical activity inside it.

  Xon turned away from the display as she and the Captain entered. “I don’t think he can answer any of your questions, Harry.”

  The Captain nodded. “Shock? I can only imagine what he’s been through. He looks half-starved and dehydrated.”

  Xon nodded. “Yes, but there are ways to treat that, and I intend to. But there’s another issue.” He gestured toward the holodisplay of brainwaves on the wall. “Computer? Compare to nearest reference standard,” he commanded.

  The computer responded, and another brain outline appeared next to the boy’s. Xon gestured toward it. “These are the neural patterns of a normal eight-year-old, and here’s his.” He pointed the other brain on the display.

  Brattain wasn’t a doctor, but she could see that there was a distinct difference between the activity of the two brains.

  “As you can see,” Xon said, “the waves are less complex. Odd.”

  “So it’s trauma?” Brattain suggested.

  Xon shook his head. “No, it’s congenital. Autism. Wiped out centuries ago in the Republic by prenatal gengineering, but in the Colonies…”

  Damn Colonials, Brattain thought. Ignoring centuries of progress with their stupid traditionalism. Their women gestating their children inside them, giving bloody births, bellowing like cattle… And defects like the one suffered by this poor child went unaddressed.

  “Is there anything you can do for him?” Kane asked.

  Xon sighed. “With the proper facilities, yes. Neural reconfiguration. But it would take years to have an impact.”

  “Golan,” Kane said, “We need to know where he came from, and what happened to his ship. There’s no log, no recordings. The Colonists who launched that lifeboat did everything they could to make it untraceable.”

  “What about Seutter?” Brattain suggested. “Could he get through telepathically? Psionicists do have training for things like that, right?�
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  Xon shook his head. “No, I’m afraid the neural functioning is just too dissimilar. Telepathically, the boy would hardly be there. Metaphorically, I guess you could say that his mind is protected by thick walls. Ripping through them would be possible, but damaging.”

  “Alright,” Kane nodded. “Understood—we don’t want to force anything. We’ll try to trace the lifeboat’s trajectory. With any luck, we’ll find out what happened to his ship…”

  18

  The mess hall was as cramped as everywhere else on the ship… and full of crew members at the customary dinner hour. Still, there’d been a few attempts to create a comfortable atmosphere. Planters mounted on the walls held flowers and ferns, and one wall featured a holographic waterfall—though it flickered every few moments, the glitch destroying the illusion.

  Have to have someone look into that, Brattain thought. She knew from experience that the tiniest little things could affect morale.

  Captain Kane had asked her to learn about the crew, and so she’d been in observation mode.

  She’d always been very detail-oriented when it came to ship’s operations and regulations; but now she knew that she needed to put her observational skills to use in a different way. She needed to learn how this crew worked, and how they might better work together.

  Once she’d realized that this would be her approach—her project—she’d felt much more relaxed and confident.

  A project, she thought, I’ve always been good at projects, assignments—making the grade.

  This one’s more challenging than most, but I should be able to manage it.

  There was a line of crewmen waiting for the primary food dispenser.

  Cruz was a few places ahead of Brattain, and apparently hadn’t noticed her yet. In front of her, taking his meal from the dispenser, was Sivarek, the Engineer. Cruz kept looking uncomfortably at him, shifting on her feet.