Homecoming (Terran Z Prelude)
Page 1
HOMECOMING
R. JAMES STEVENS
CHECK OUT THESE OTHER WORKS FROM
R. JAMES STEVENS
Epsilon Series:
Book 1 – Clarity
ISBN: 978-0989682602
ASIN: B00F4KWUIG
Book 2 – Duality
ISBN: 978-0-9896826-2-6
ASIN: B010WHBLTE
Keystone.
ASIN: B00P0HGSJK
TERRAN Z (PRELUDE)
HOMECOMING
R. JAMES STEVENS
Terran Z (Prelude)
Homecoming
R. James Stevens
Terran Homecoming is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Oh yeah, especially the undead ones.
Copyright © 2013 by R. James Stevens
All rights reserved.
Published by Project 42 Productions
For you, my awesome wife
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
My family, my friends, my readers
2354: The outer edges of the Orion Arm, Milky Way Galaxy…
Jason had always hated the cold silence of empty space. But what repelled Captain Jason Brightside about the void of interstellar travel also was what drew him into the Royal Space Navy in the first place. He loved piloting various starships beyond Earth’s local neighborhood and into the far corners of space as an explorer.
This mission was no different.
He and the twelve other members of the Interstellar Explorer Class Excelsior had nearly completed an arduous journey to the Dorado constellation and back. Using a multitude of strategically placed wormhole portals (routinely referred to as Fold Gates by those in the RSN), the Excelsior and its crew turned what would have taken thousands of lifetimes into a four-month journey.
Despite the brevity of their most recent foray into the unknown worlds beyond the Solar System, Jason was relishing the thought of the final activation of the Fold drive to bring the ship home. The anticipation of taking a few weeks off from his duties once back on Earth had kept him awake for the past 48 hours.
However, he knew that much-needed rest would not come so soon. For on this mission, his crew had managed to do what no other had done in the 150-year history of the RSN: they had made contact.
In anyone’s eyes, except his own of course, Captain Brightside was a hero. He had piloted many a mission to the nether regions of the cosmos, explored strange, alien worlds that fell out of reach of even the mightiest of telescopes, and had triumphed over many potential mission-ending disasters - only to bring home his ship, and crew, in one piece.
Never one to expound on his own accomplishments, he waved his palm over the communicator built into the ship's console.
“Isis, give me Mission Control on the comm, please,” Jason said casually, staring out past the nearby communication relay station to the left of the viewport.
“Yes, Captain,” replied the soothing, female voice of the ship’s computer.
“Mission Control, this is IEC Excelsior. We’ve reached the Jump Ring and should be executing our final fold within the next hour. Next stop, Earth in three days,” Jason said, kicking his legs up onto the console and leaning back in his chair.
“Roger, Excelsior,” came the reply over the speaker. “I take it there are no new issues to report.”
“The rest of the crew is in stasis, and our guest is safely in his inhibitor pod. Looking forward to some R and R when we get back, Control,” Jason chuckled.
“That’s great, Excelsior. Although I doubt you’ll be able to take any time off, Jason. You’re a superstar now. At least you’ll be back in time for Halloween.”
The lighting of the room suddenly switched from its subdued white to a gaudy purple, with small jets of orange beams thrusting up from the back of the console every few meters along the wall. Several holograms of dancing jack o’ lanterns materialized around the room, and the speakers at the rear of the space began spouting comically eerie music.
“Very nice. Save me some candy, Control.” Jason closed off the channel with a wave of his palm.
“Sir, I’ve taken the liberty of preparing you some punch,” Isis interjected as the console quietly chimed the closure of the relay.
A small cocktail glass rose from within a circular panel on the side of the console.
“Thank you, Isis,” Jason said, plucking the glass from its perch and tilting it onto his lips. Jason smiled. What a life, he thought.
“All Hallow’s Eve,” came a British voice from behind Jason. “Based on your request for sugary constructs upon your arrival and the curious display of hideously deformed vegetation, I can only deduce that you are referring to the pagan observation of the holiday.”
Jason turned his head. “I see you’ve got an accent now.”
Floating behind him atop a semi-circular halo of subtle, green light, was a being several meters tall. It had a thick, ribbed torso that connected its three legs to a bulky set of shoulders, in which four gelatinous arms hung loosely from either side.
The crew of the Excelsior had come upon the creature’s crippled ship during a routine travel through Dorado, and although it was a tri-ped, none of them had actually witnessed an ability to traverse using its lower limbs. As standard procedure, not that they had ever had a reason to employ such, the inhibitor pod prevented any movement whether lateral or vertical from its occupant.
“I’ve researched your data banks,” the being said coolly. It drifted forward and stopped just behind the Commander. “The British inflection enamors most. I’d like to make a good first impression with your people.”
Jason snorted. “The fact that you’re there will be impression enough, trust me.”
“Still, one can never be too charismatic.”
“Come up with a name yet?” Jason asked, turning his chair to face the Excelsior’s guest with his chin in his hand.
“I have a name,” the guest answered.
“So what is it then?”
“Your kind’s… tongue… and vocal cords are not capable of mimicking the sounds necessary to speak our language. Therefore, I have decided on… Frank.”
“Frank?”
“Yes, Frank. Mono-syllabic monikers are more palatable to humans, are they not?”
Brightside shook his head subtly in amusement without answering.
“Additionally, it fits with the observation of your… Halloween.”
“As in… Frankenstein?” Jason asked.
“Precisely.”
“The boys at Research are gonna love this…” Jason said under his breath as he turned his attention back to his cocktail.
"Our species are quite alike, despite our aesthetic differences," Frank observed.
"You celebrate Halloween?" Jason said facetiously.
"No, Captain. But we both seek knowledge in our exploration and conquest of the galaxy."
"Conquest? No, that's not what we're about," Jason defended. "We explore and discover... but not conquer."
"A mere difference in semantics, Captain. Conquest is conquest. We are both warring civilizations."
"Agree to disagree then." Brightside held his glass aloft in a quick toast before taking another gulp.
"I find the human celebration of Halloween to be quite puzzling."
"How so?"
"Throughout your culture's history, death has been your greatest fear. Yet once a year you surround yourself with death-like imagery. The roots of the traditions make more sense, albeit in an illogical way, but the modern tradition seems to have little to do with its ancestral roots."
/> "You're overanalyzing it... Frank," Jason responded as he sipped his drink. "It's just a time to relax and celebrate the season. Have a good time. How do you know so much already?"
"My kind has a propensity for... imbibing knowledge," Frank said, rotating his twin, tentacled eyes back and forth between the Commander and the rest of the control deck. "I must say, however, that I find the exaggerated portrayals of the human kind during Halloween quite fascinating."
"Just costumes..."
"Yes, but some are representative of actual beings, true?"
"Uh... some," Jason answered, not showing much interest to the conversation as he nonchalantly scanned the viewport. "But mostly myths and legends..."
"I see," Frank replied thoughtfully. "One perplexes me, however..."
"Mmm hmm," the Captain said with his glass against his lips.
"Would you kindly explain to me the meaning of... undead?"
"What... like zombies?"
"Yes. How does one go from being dead to being... un?" Frank quizzed, spinning in his inhibitor pod to scan the various console controls.
"That's horror movie nonsense," Jason said flatly, but