Space Cruiser Musashi: a space opera novel

by Dean Chalmers

  Looking closer, he could see that each molecule in the universe was a construct like a ship in itself, ready to jump, to launch into a tiny wormhole for parts unknown.

  The material of the Valorian sphere… He started with that, focusing in on a thousand points, a thousand particles. Each of them had quantum signatures that corresponded to someplace else in the universe—some empty place.

  With a thousand dancers, he began the quantum dance. Across vast gulfs of space the dancers moved in time, finding their distant, synchronized partners.

  A thousand tiny wormholes grew inside of the hull of the Valorian sphere.

  Pinprick points of brilliance, growing slightly wider by inches…

  Swallowing the matter around them, those molecules jumping like little starships and taking their fellows with them—ripping the vessel apart.

  Xon floated forwards towards where Enoch stood. He had stopped thrashing.

  He’s gone, Seutter realized in the clarity of the moment. He burned to give me this chance.

  And Enoch floated toward Seutter, still proud amidst the torn and tattered ruins of his ship.

  “Only saTAN can divert the ways of God's creation,” Enoch’s voice boomed—and he raised an accusing arm at Seutter.

  “You’re calling me the devil now?” Seutter said, forcing a laugh. “That’s original.”

  Although most of his consciousness was somewhere far, far away…

  The one called Enoch was a place of violence in the universe. Violence in a humanoid shape… The matter inside him swirling with quantum distortions caused by his raging psionic power.

  He thinks the rage gives him strength, Seutter thought. But his very substance is volatile.

  With so many particles all dancing wildly, I don't have to do anything but find them partners somewhere out in the crazy universe. Even if it’s a million light years away, no matter.

  Just takes a little nudge. Lots of little nudges—so very easy.

  A hundred thousand different places and possibilities, a particle of interstellar dust here and there as an anchor for the jump…

  I’ll send Enoch to you.

  I'll send him in pieces.

  Pinprick lights began appearing across Enoch’s armor.

  The armored Valorian looked down, purely baffled as the many tiny wormholes grew and then—

  Sections of him began to jump, torn away in flashes of white light. Pieces were ripped away, chunks of armor and of the tissue inside of it…

  Seutter could see gaps forming in Enoch’s chest, arms, and legs, the blackness beyond visible through the missing portions of his form.

  Still, the little wormholes flared.

  Some fluids bubbled up from the gaps in his armor, but most everything—fluid, tissue, armor and all—was being sucked through the tiny wormholes.

  Would some of this matter float forever in the depths of deep space? Perhaps other tiny bits would fall and burn in the coronas of distant suns.

  One thing was for sure. The Valorian Unity was a collective; but each one of them, when ripped apart, was nothing. Simply matter to be recycled and given back to the stars.

  In a few moments, it was over. Enoch was gone.

  His sphere was mostly ripped apart, and what remained was coming undone without his will to bind it. Chunks of its oily hull sloughed off; bubbles and clouds of black particles floated towards Seutter’s pod.

  There was something else: a lifeless figure in a Republic spacesuit.

  Can’t leave him there…

  Another wormhole opened, larger than the others: a man-sized portal.

  Xon’s body was sucked through, and then the wormhole closed into nothingness.

  I sent him far, far away. He would have wanted that.

  Distant horizons and all that.

  Still, Seutter felt the powerful telepathic union between himself and the Musashi crew behind him. Still, he felt the power that the theta wave pulse had given him.

  The power surged through him, compelling him to use it.

  His racing mind shot to a higher plane—

  More little wormholes appeared. Tiny ones in the empty space in front of him; a hundred of them leading to a hundred different points. He could feel their collective pull on his pod growing stronger, stronger…

  Rip us apart, Seutter thought. Rip me apart.

  No, no! Focus, get us safely through the jump.

  That's what you've always done.

  Troublesome Seutter, crazy Seutter—

  But he always gets through the jump okay.

  He tried to concentrate, tried to remember all the strong jump points he'd memorized over the years. They seemed meaningless now.

  In this moment of power, he could take them anywhere in the universe—so he sought for a memory that was recent, familiar.

  The tiny wormholes began dancing around each other, merging into one big and bright portal, with a single destination.

  The light, blinding but soothing, grew…

  Then, the brilliant firmament outside the universe expanded to swallow up Seutter’s pod—and then the Musashi behind him.

  #

  The bright, pure white light of the jump was in Brattain’s eyes, and inside of her mind.

  And when it cleared, she sat stunned for a moment. She knew the Musashi had jumped, that Seutter had done it—and that they had all, in a way, been joined in helping him to accomplish what he had.

  She looked to the main screen, where Seutter’s pod sat at the end of the Musashi’s booms. There was no sign of Enoch’s sphere-like vessel, aside from shreds and bits of material floating here and there.

  And just beyond the ship was a sight so familiar—and yet so amazing.

  Brattain could scarcely believe what she saw.

  “Have we indeed perished?” Albert Hawking asked. “I see a floating heavenly city, with a silver thread stretching to the world below.”

  “It's not heaven, Mister Hawking.” Brattain said. “It's Auris—the docking platform and the beanstalk.”

  And there's no jump point here, Brattain thought. Certainly not so near to the planet's gravity.

  But yet, even with one of the sensor sails damaged–Seutter had done it.

  There was an incoming message, and Brattain opened the comm.

  “RCS Musashi,” said a woman's voice, “this is Fleet Security Commander Marella. Your jump was unauthorized. Deactivate all weapons systems and prepare for boarding.”

  Brattain watched on the main viewscreen as several Republic gunboats—like large sleek shuttles with grazer cannons and plasma throwers studding their surfaces—came into view.

  “It's all right,” Brattain said. “This is Commander Brattain—acting Captain—we're not going to try to dock. We’ll give you any access you need. But we’ve been attacked. I need to check on the status of my crew.”

  She hit her seat’s release, so that her nanosuit no longer adhered to it, and ran forward towards Cruz. The pilot was still in her seat, enveloped by the translucent medical cocoon.

  “Mister Khoury,” she said “Please, get a medical team up here ASAP.”

  “On my way, Sir,” he messaged back.

  And that made her think of their Chief Medical Officer…

  She opened a comm to Seutter’s pod. “Seutter, are you all right?”

  “Yes, I'm very tired,” he replied. “Not sure exactly what I did, or how I did it. So much of it fading… Like sand rushing through a sieve. Losing the knowledge, damn it. Griffin couldn't have done that, though. What I did… unprecedented.”

  “What about Xon?” Brattain asked.

  Seutter sighed. “I thought you knew. Xon’s gone—not sure where in the universe. Better this way. they’d probably want to dissect his body. Try to find out what makes a Valorian tick.”

  “He must have felt guilty,” Brattain said. “For bringing us all into this.”

  “He knew I needed a distraction, a decoy—so I could to fight Enoch,” Seutter said. “He sacrif
iced himself without hesitation. That kind of selflessness bothers me, frankly. Self-loathing is the root cause of it.”

  Brattain thought that she could detect a note of melancholy in Seutter’s voice as he said this…

  He’s grieving, but he won’t let up on the cold facade.

  Or maybe he can’t really believe that Xon is gone.

  I don’t want to believe… Kane gone, and now that shaggy old doctor as well…

  “But what about Enoch?” Brattain asked.

  “He's gone, dead. He could be anywhere in the universe, too,” Seutter said. “A couple dozen places, in the end. It was disappointing that he was so easy to tear apart. The Unity is still out there. They've gone quiet now, hiding, afraid—but I know they're out there.”

  Mister Khoury ran onto the bridge and examined Cruz. Brattain fought her anxious need to ask questions about her lover’s condition, and turned back to her console.

  “Mister Sivarek,” she called.

  “We… we jumped,” the Engineer’s voice came back. “It’s not supposed to happen like that, but we're on Auris.” He sounded as if he was asking for Brattain to confirm it.

  “Yes,” she said “That's what all the readings indicate.”

  “Seutter did it!” Sivarek exclaimed. “I knew he could. I've read all his books; this is validation of the theory of the universal quantum subconscious that he proposed in—”

  “You can tell me all about it when we have time, Stefan,” she said. “But for now… Thank you for everything.”

  The nurse, Khoury, turned to Brattain. “Ensign Cruz should survive,” he said. “Neural damage is the biggest worry. She will need to be moved to a facility on the surface.”

  Brattain nodded. “Thank you. Please let Command know about Cruz and any other casualties with priority needs.”

  Hang in there, Xue, she thought. You always act so tough… Now fight, stay alive, stay strong.

  Reynard laughed. “What facility will the rest of us be transferred to, I wonder? A prison?”

  “I take responsibility for everything that happened,” Brattain said. “You just followed orders, Jesus. I ordered you to fire on Mars, didn’t I?”

  “No,” he said “You know that you didn’t.”

  “I'm taking responsibility,” she told him firmly. “One way or another, Lieutenant—you understand?”

  He shrugged. “I guess you ought to do that much.”

  Again, she felt terribly sorry for Reynard.

  His whole world has been shattered, she thought I don't know if it was Wells’s betrayal or my own lies of omission. But he was a good officer, and he's been devastated.

  “Madam,” Hawking said, “this Security Commander Marella is rather insistent on speaking with you. The woman is strangely immune to my charms. She seems quite intolerant of delays, and my lack of credentials has not impressed her.”

  Brattain nodded. “Put her through to me again. Commander Marella?”

  “Musashi,” the voice came back. “First boarding party is approaching. Gunboat will dock on your port airlock. Please accommodate us.”

  “Certainly,” Brattain said. “But listen. We have bio-organic debris in our vicinity. You may want to request a hazard crew. I'm not sure if it presents any danger. And also… I need to make a special diplomatic request.”

  “Yes?” The Security Commander came back.

  “We have Colonial refugees on board,” Brattain said. “I understand that Senator Shantil may still be on Auris. I'd like to speak to her regarding Colonial issues.”

  Marella answered gruffly: “I’ll put that request through to the Admiral.”

  “We’d best prepare for boarding,” Brattain announced to the bridge.

  She opened a comm to engineering again. “Mister Sivarek—Stefan—is Seutter onboard?”

  “Yes,” Sivarek answered. “He’s here, Commander. He just got out of the pod. And he's all right, I think. It's amazing what he did. I love to experiment again some time. I mean, um, of course, right now half the conduits are blown out and the theta wave generator’s kind of melted, but—”

  Seutter's voice came over the comm: “Commander, he needs to stop talking. I'm very tired now.”

  “Understood,” Brattain said. “I’ll get someone to help you to your quarters, so that you can rest. You’ve earned it.”

  “Oh and… Commander?” Seutter added.

  “Yes?”

  “You're welcome.”

  53

  It was over eight hours before they even let Musashi dock.

  It was almost another twenty-four before Brattain got a break from the debriefings.

  She had been expecting to be thrown into military prison, or perhaps to wake up on Auris or somewhere else with no memory of the past week or so…

  So when the debriefings—interrogations, really—continued on and on, she was actually somewhat relieved. They hadn’t let anyone leave the ship, and there were a lot of armored Fleet security personnel around… But people were still calling her “Commander.” Even the Fleet Security officials who questioned her still gave her that formal courtesy.

  They asked about everything: the Valorians, the ship’s refit, the Colonists, the Mars and Wesley and Wells…

  She could infer from their questions that the latter two were indeed deceased. She still felt badly for Wesley—and for whomever else on the flagship who had died due to Wells and the black bargain with the Valorians that he had defended.

  There were also many questions about Seutter, including those from a Psionicist’s Guild doctor whom Brattain thought was reading her mind during the session.

  I can only imagine Seutter himself being questioned, she thought. I just hope he holds it together, and doesn’t let his arrogance take over.

  You’re the one who really saved us, Seutter. You and Sivarek… and Xon.

  She was concerned for all of her officers and the ordeals they must be undergoing. There were Engineers’ Guild reps literally plugging into both the ship and Sivarek’s mind. And Molokos, having euthanized Captain Kane… Well, he was a big worry. Or rather, how Command might choose to view his actions was worrying her.

  But there was one other crewmember whose fate was pre-eminent in Brattain’s mind.

  Finally, at long last, she was able to get a minute to herself. She requested, and was granted, an open comm channel to the hospital on the surface of Auris below, where the casualties had been taken.

  She asked about the condition of Ensign Xue-Mei Cruz.

  “She’s in a regen tank, Commander,” a medical tech advised. “But neurally, it looks good. She’ll be functional in a few weeks. You can speak to her if you like… She’s in an immersive sim, and she’s probably mentally sluggish due to the drugs, but I can patch you through the sim interface if you’d like.”

  “Please do,” Brattain said.

  She breathed a sigh of relief.

  Xue, I worried so damn much… With so much to worry about right now, it was still you that concerned me most.

  “Helloooo…” came Cruz’s familiar, husky voice. “it’s you Commander? Cool.”

  “Xue, how are you doing?”

  “Awesome, they have me in a warm and yummy place. Mmmm… Yummier if you were here. Missing you, green eye woman.”

  “I miss you too, Xue. But you have to get healed up, don’t worry about anything else right now. Just relax, that’s an order.”

  “But soooo much to do, Commander. We gonna’ get married and have a baby together, woooooooooo… His name will be Harrison Kane Brattain-Cruz and Molokos gonna teach him swords and stuff and he will be a badass. He gonna have the mad skills and have freckles like the momma. Wooooo! Whatya think?”

  “I think you’re badly hurt and you have a lot of drugs in your system, Xue. But I’m glad you’re going to be okay. I’m… a lot more than glad.”

  “We won, right? We beat them?” Cruz asked, and this time her voice sounded childlike, searching for comfort.

  “Y
eah Xue, we did,” Brattain said.

  “Cool, Commander. I feel kinda tired… Wooo… Uhhh…”

  The medical tech came back on the comm: “She’s in a sleep state now, Commander. It happens with the drugs.”

  “It’s alright,” Brattain said. “Thank you.”

  #

  The comm transmission ended, and Brattain rubbed her eyes. It had been a long and grueling thirty-two hours without rest… And she expected more questioning to come.

  Sure enough, the door slid open a moment later and an older man in a blue nanosuit with numerous decoration patches on it entered. He had a tan complexion, close-cropped gray hair and a matching short beard. His lined face showed his age, and there was a sternness to him…

  Admiral Ashok.

  She’d never met him in person, but she knew his face from the ‘casts. And of course, getting a closer look, she recognized the admiral’s insignia on his collar.

  She stood immediately and saluted: “Sir.”

  She feared that her voice lacked enthusiasm…

  He approached her where she now stood by the table, and nodded to her in a surprisingly cordial manner—before extending his hand.

  “Congratulations,” he said. “There’ll be a more formal ceremony later, of course, but you’ll be addressed as Captain from now on… Your accomplishments warrant that.”

  Brattain was stunned.

  A promotion? What?

  “I expected to be court martialed at the least, Sir.”

  Ashok smiled again—a paternal smile that seemed warm enough, if well-practiced.

  “People higher than myself are impressed. The new First Consul, Gelek, is going to hold a ceremony for you and your officers… And the surviving Colonials, too. Senator Shantil has been very vocal in your support.”

  “But Sir, First Consul Wells…”

  The Admiral sighed. “It is our belief that Wells’s unique position as liaison to the isolationist Valorians allowed him to plot this alone. It is unfortunate that he drew in Captain Fitzgerald and the Mars crew in the end.”