Striving for the stars
Kelras Chronicles, Book one
Taniko K Williams
Copyright © 2021 Taniko K Williams
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 0-6451332-0-5
ISBN-13: 978-0-6451332-0-2
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Announcements
About the Author
Chapter 1
Staring up at the red-tinted sky, I watched as a large rectangular ship broke through N2390’s atmosphere. ‘Right on schedule,’ I mused as the hauler grew larger, drawing near the scrap yard.
“Looks like she be carrying a full load,” the older man beside me said with a grunt.
I nodded, observing the movements of the ship as it flew low over the dumping grounds. I knew, just as Samson did, that the freighter docked star-side was the Prince Albert III. The vessel serviced the Xi’anu system, which was one of the wealthiest in the Federation.
Our planet was what some would call a junk planet. With its low habitability classification, the Federation used it as a large recycling center. They shipped in metal waste from around the Federation-controlled planetary systems, then workers sorted, melted down, and shipped out the refined metal to be reused. Those who lived on the planet had found they earned far more by salvaging the discarded tech in the scrap than by working in the factory, and several residents lived solely on their earnings from reselling repaired items.
I fought the urge to cover my ears as the sound of the approaching ship’s engines grew to a deafening volume. Not that I could do so with my helmet on, of course. The helmet and my salvaged bodysuit did not have sound filtering capabilities, but what they did have was an oxygen filter, which was why when I found the Celestial IV body suit, I chose to keep it despite the high resale price. N2390's low atmosphere made it necessary to use an oxygen filter outside the habitation zones. While the air was breathable, doing so for more than a few hours would have detrimental effects on a person’s health.
The suit had increased the time I could spend outside the habitation domes scavenging for repairable tech greatly, so over the past months, I had managed to earn more credits than ever before. The suit had more than covered its potential sale price and was the reason I had almost a thousand and three hundred credits stashed away in my personal account. Though I would need far more than that if I was going to buy myself a ticket off this desolate planet. My father only earned five hundred credits a month, minus our accommodation fees, which were deducted from his wage. Even with me adding to our finances with scavenging, we were not well off by any measure.
The ground shook as the ship dropped its heavy cargo, causing the pile of metal scrap Samson and I had climbed on for a better vantage point to began shifting beneath our feet. Leaping up, I engaged my suit’s thrusters to propel myself into the air, barely escaping as the pile started to collapse. Samson, who was slower to react, tumbled down the side of the scrap, swearing violently as he did so. Laughing at the man’s misfortune, I moved to the next pile, landing only for a moment before leaping away as I headed towards the drop zone.
He should have known better. Samson had been salvaging for far longer than I had and knew the piles were unstable at the best of times. I’d fallen off several when I was younger and had learnt not to remain on them when ships were unloading.
Even with my head start, Samson still beat me to the newly delivered scrap. His own suit was of much better quality, and he could fly directly to the new area. My suit's thrusters were only useful for short bursts, which meant I was one of the last to arrive. Fortunately, there were still sections unoccupied by others, and I quickly laid claim to one.
There were several unspoken rules regarding scavenging on N2390. You could not work an area occupied by another, nor was it acceptable to steal something salvaged by the person working that area. Bartering and trades were permitted, though I was always careful about such things, lest I find myself on the losing end of the deal.
Cautiously, I worked through the pile I had claimed. It was heavy work, so I needed to be careful to avoid destabilizing the mountain of metal scrap. Five hours later, I was struggling to contain my disappointment at the lack of any decent findings, but I would keep going until I had cleared the section of anything valuable. I had heard the tale of more than one scavenger who had left a section, only to discover that another had found something of high value after they had departed.
I moved aside another chunk of scrap metal, then stared excitedly down at the rectangular device poking out from the pile. Looking around, I made sure no one was watching then grabbed the thin rectangle shaped device. The scuffed and faded words ‘Beltran Flight Simulation module’ emblazoned on the side of the device made my heart pound rapidly. Turning the device over in my hands, I examined the module for any visible signs of damage. It appeared to be physically intact from what I could see externally, and I breathed deeply, trying to calm my increasing excitement.
The Beltran company made some of the best training simulators and learning modules in the Federation. All children had access to the basic learning modules. They were easily downloadable from the civilian interstellar network, but these kinds of advanced modules were not openly available to the general population. This module in particular was something that was used by trainee pilots and was only accessible through a higher education institute. I had previously contemplated the idea of trying to test into one of the higher learning institutions to train as a pilot, but the training was extremely cost prohibitive. The chance that I might gain a scholarship was unlikely, as I had no piloting experience or knowledge beyond a basic understanding.
I stared in contemplation at the simulation module in my hand. If I sold it, then I could earn a lot of credits. But what if it worked? Could I use it? If I could use it and get some basic training as a pilot, then maybe it could help me get into one of the piloting programs in a different system, or maybe even a job as a trainee pilot on one of the visiting freighters.
After slipping the module into my pack, I looked back towards the pile I had been sorting through, fighting the urge to race back to the residential complex. I wanted to find out if the module was still operational. I knew my basic model simulation helmet wouldn’t be fully compatible, but I hoped I could still access the basic training features.
The United Astrum Federation provided an education simulation helmet for all children, it possessed basic functions and provided a visual and audio-based simulation. When it connected with the child’s neural implant, the helmet would place the person into a virtual space. For students, it was a personal classroom where they studied the education modules they were able to access.
There was a set number of modules that all children had to complete by the time they were eighteen. The Feder
ation tested all citizens just before their eighteenth birthday and gave those who scored well many advantages such as citizenship in wealthier and more populated planetary systems. High scores also meant better employment opportunities. This was the goal I worked towards. Every night I would spend hours in my simulated classroom, studying every module I could access. During the days I lurked in the scrap yard, seeking anything salvageable that I could sell, as just getting a high score on my basic education exams wouldn’t be enough to get me off this planet. I also needed credits, lots of credits.
Even an application for citizenship on a planet in the Manra system, which was only slightly better than my current home, was five hundred credits. That was just to be considered, it was no guarantee my application would be accepted. Then there was the cost of traveling off N2390, out of the Winaru system, and then living costs until I got a job.
I clenched my jaw and got back to work. I would finish this pile and then return to the residential complex.
Another four hours of work, and I was glad I stayed. I had discovered the remnants of a high-end simulation helmet. The metal was dented and its visor cracked meaning the helmet itself was beyond saving, but that didn’t matter. What was important was the neural connector and internal hardware. I could use those parts and potentially upgrade my own basic simulator helmet. With luck, I would have an operational helmet that would be compatible with the flight module.
Turning my gaze to the sky, I stared up at the stars that had appeared in the last hour as night had claimed the planet. The red haze, which covered much of the planet’s sky, was thinner this night so I could see more of them than was usual.
My father had once told me the explorers of old Earth would use the stars to guide them on journeys to far-off lands, much in the same way people now used stars to navigate the many planetary systems. I often dreamed of the night when the reddish haze of N2390 would no longer obscure those stars above me. Of the night when I would look up at the sky and the stars would not be these which I had lived beneath for almost eighteen years. I would look up to see new stars, brighter stars, which would be a symbol of a better future than the stars above me now offered.
Chapter 2
After I entered through the habitation dome’s airlock, I disengaged my helmet’s filtration functions, and the visor slid up. Waving in greeting to the few residents I saw along the way, I walked along the central walkway, headed towards my family's residential unit.
The eastern habitation zone was home to only two hundred residents. Many were workers in the planet-based factories or the families of asteroid miners who worked claims in one of the two asteroid fields found within the Winaru system. Each dome was formed entirely of metal, that being our planets most available resource. Much of the domes area was used for residential buildings, with the remaining buildings being used for supply storage, food propagation, and a handful of small stores run by a few of the residents. N2390 was a single landmass with no naturally occurring water sources, and had a total population of just under twelve hundred residents, spread across six habitation zones.
As I entered the building that housed the residential units, I passed the youngest two Johnson boys, who were ten and twelve respectively, as they rushed out of the building excitedly, no doubt having just finished with their days educational modules. The boys were the oldest children in our dome, aside from myself.
"Ris, did you go scrapping?" Kaiden, the older of the two, asked looking at my bag in interest.
"I did, what are you two up to?" I asked, giving the boys a suspicious look.
"Nuthin," Kaiden's quick response and refusal to meet my eyes made it clear that whatever the boys were up too was most certainly going to be more than just nothing.
I hesitated for the briefest moment, wondering if I should question the boys further, before the desire to investigate the functionality of my newly discovered flight module overcame any concern I had regarding the mischief the boys might become involved in. It's not like they could do much anyway, they were not able to access the domes airlock to leave the habitation zone, and there were plenty of others here who would keep an eye on them. Living in such small numbers meant we were all familiar, if not friendly, with those who also resided on the planet. While on occasion there were sometimes issues, mostly with those who were new to the planet, there little to no crime to speak of. Oh sure, there was the occasional fight, mostly over findings in the scrap yards, but those were minor things.
After sending the boys on their way, with a brief warning not to cause any mischief, which I knew would not be heeded, I made my way into the unit assigned to my family. The units were small, consisting of a single three by six meter room with an ablution unit and a pair of enclosed bunks built into the far wall. To the left was a rather uncomfortable lounge my father had acquired some years ago from a trade ship, along the right side was a foldout table with a food processor.
I made my way to the back of the room and pressed the button to retract the privacy screen that enclosed the upper bunk. I tossed my bag and helmet onto the bed, then headed for the ablution unit. My body suit had a fine layer of red dirt from the time spent outside, and I took a moment to clean it before stepping into the misting shower. Clad in a clean, soft utility jumpsuit, I moved back to my bunk and folded my body suit into a drawer.
After I collected my pack and my basic simulation helmet, I headed for the small table on the right side of the room. As I settled down on the hard plastic seat, I pulled out the flight simulator and the damaged simulation helmet. I needed to see if the module was operational before I attempted any modifications on my basic helmet. I opened a panel at the rear of the helmet and pulled out the small retractable cable used to connect with physical modules. Many educational modules could be downloaded onto the simulation helmet from the network, but the more advanced modules required their own hardware components because of the amount of data they contained. As I booted up the helmet, I checked the external display.
‘Loading module... Error R879. Module incompatible with simulator model EDU-II, some functions will be unavailable.’
“As expected,” I murmured.
The basic simulator would not be compatible with most of the module’s functions. I was glad that it seemed like the data was intact, but I wouldn’t know for certain until I tested it. Pulling on the helmet, I activated the connection to my implant.
‘Error, simulation device not registered. Register new device? Y/N.’ I agreed, but then I received another error. ‘Error, user not authorized to register simulation device.’
I groaned in frustration and disconnected from the simulator helmet. I was annoyed to find that the module would only work with registered simulators.
“Maybe the other helmet’s internal processor will be pre-registered,” I mused as I looked at the damaged helmet on the table.
The helmet had a small Beltran logo on it as well, so it could end up being registered. Putting my helmet on the floor and grabbing the toolkit my father kept in the drawer next to the table, I set to work, opening the side paneling of the broken helmet and pulling out the internal components.
The swoosh of the entry door startled me, and I looked up as my father walked into the room. Then wrinkled my nose in disgust as the stench of sweat and alcohol filled the room.
‘He’s been at Scotty’s bar again,’ I thought as I watched him walk into the ablution unit. His green jumpsuit was covered in a layer of grime and grease from his day's work in the factory.
As the door to the ablution unit closed, I reached up keying in the code for a basic dinner into the food processor and watched as the silver-foiled container slid into the central compartment of the processor. With a low whirring, the machine began to re-hydrate and heat the meal. While N2390 had some fresh food products available, it was not cost efficient for our small family of two. The cost of a single meal cooked with fresh foodstuffs would be the same as a week’s worth of pre-made de-hydrated meals from the processor
.
While the meal was being heated, I cleared a space on the opposite side of the table for my father. Tossing away the foil container that had contained my own meal, I grabbed a clean fork and set my father's food on the table as he left the ablution unit clad in a clean jumpsuit.
My father, Jon Kelras, worked in the refinery as an engineer. He helped keep the machinery that operated in the factory running. The workers in the N2390 recycling factory worked a twelve-hour shift. They would then have an ten-hour rest cycle before returning to work. It was a hard job, and the pay wasn’t all that great. I never understood why my father stayed here. With his skill set, he would have no trouble finding work in a different system, one with higher pay and better conditions, but he always said he was happy here and had no wish to leave.
Personally, I had no such intentions. I wanted off this planet, but first I needed to pass the basic education exams. Once I finished my exams, I would be able to apply for citizenship in a more populated system. I hoped that if I scored high enough, then maybe I could move to one of the three planets in the Xi’anu system. My father recently had told me that Altairin corp, a large tech company in the Xi’anu system, recently announced a higher learning scholarship program that would offer full scholarships and citizenship to approved applicants. The catch was that those students would, as part of the scholarship, enter into employment with the company for a set period after finishing their education.
Striving for the stars (The Kelras Chronicles Book 1) Page 1