Into the Stars (Rise of the Republic Book 1)

by James Rosone

  The radio communicator attached to Hank’s sweater chirped. “Hank, it’s Eric. Can you ask Ivan if he’d bring me some food from the cantina?”

  Hank tapped the sensor on his communicator. “I just got to the cantina, Eric. I’ll bring it up myself once I’ve eaten. Give me fifteen minutes,” Hank replied.

  Ivan handed Hank a prepared container of food to eat. “Any word on when we’ll be headed back to the MOS?” the cook asked. “We’re starting to run a little low on consumables.”

  Hank’s left eyebrow rose. “Really? We’ve only been gone for five weeks.”

  Ivan shook his head. “Hey, it took us two weeks to get here,” he countered. “It’ll take us at least two weeks to get home. I’ve only got roughly four weeks’ worth of food.”

  “Then we’ve got enough for at least two more weeks of mining,” Hank insisted.

  “Did you guys find another good chunk today?” Ivan asked.

  Joshee nodded. “We sure did. Hank here found two large chunks. We’re nearly done with the first one. Lola is cutting up the second one and bringing it back.”

  “Sweet. Looks like this should be a good payday, then,” Ivan commented.

  “It should be indeed. Pack up a container for Eric, will you? I’ll take it up to him in a few minutes,” Hank directed.

  “Sure thing,” Ivan replied.

  Hank ate his meal hastily. Just as he was getting ready to bring food to Eric on the bridge, his communicator chirped. “Hank! I’m showing a contact heading toward us!”

  Hank shook his head. “Hey, calm down, Eric. This is nothing to be worried about. Look at the display and tell me what kind of contact it is.”

  Hank floated out of the cantina and toward the bridge as he waited for Eric to reply. This was Eric’s first time alone on the bridge monitoring the area, and his inexperience was showing. Hank’s wife had twisted his arm to get Hank to hire him—the kid was related to a friend of hers and in need of a job. Bridge duty was the safest job he could think of until they got him trained up in space mining.

  “Um, I…I don’t know,” Eric stammered before adding, “It doesn’t have one of those transponder thingies on it you told me to look for. It just showed up on the radar screen and looks to be heading toward us.”

  “What do you mean it doesn’t have a transponder code? All ships have a transponder code. It’s how we tell what kind of ship they are and who they belong to.”

  “I’m telling you, Hank, it doesn’t have a transponder code,” retorted the young man, annoyed that Hank didn’t believe him.

  Hank shook his head angrily. “I’m almost there. This had better not be a joke, Eric, or I’m going to be pissed. I’ve got better things to be doing.”

  Hank grabbed at the bars spaced throughout the corridors, pulling himself as he floated through the vessel. After making his way from the midsection of the ship, he finally arrived at the ladder section that would take him up to the bridge.

  For a ship’s nerve center, the bridge wasn’t anything fancy to look at. It had chairs for the pilot and copilot, another for the radar and communications officer and that was it. Just behind the bridge was a room with additional chairs for the rest of the crew when the ship was in transit. Unlike on a warship, the bridge was ringed with windows, allowing them to see out.

  Maneuvering over to the radar screen, Hank motioned for the kid to move so he could take a seat. He hurriedly scanned the monitor; the radar was making sweeps of the area around them, and sure enough, the ship Eric had found didn’t have a transponder code.

  What the hell? Hank asked himself. Every ship he’d seen had a transponder. The unique ship code identified which country the ship was from and what type it was.

  “See? I told you it didn’t have any identification,” Eric said, feeling vindicated.

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Hank reached over for the headset and put it on. “Unidentified ship, this is the Republic mining ship Dolly. Please identify yourself.”

  A moment went by without any response to his hails. Hank changed to a wideband network, hoping that if his message was transmitted across more frequencies, these guys might hear him.

  Maybe they’re operating on a different channel than us…

  Hank tried hailing them again. They were now approaching 230 kilometers and still closing on their position.

  “See if you can use the camera, Hank,” the kid offered.

  Damn. Why didn’t I think of that?

  Panning the lens toward the ship, Hank zoomed in as much as the camera would allow. When he saw it, his heart skipped a beat. A sense of panic washed over him.

  That’s no friendly ship, he realized.

  Hank reached for the handset that would connect him to the ship’s onboard speaker system. “This is the captain. We’ve got a possible pirate ship heading in our direction,” he announced. “I need everyone to secure what you’re doing. Close the outer cargo hold immediately. I’m initiating an engine restart. Once we can get going, we’re moving.” They’d come back for the hauler and the mining drone if they managed to get away.

  Pushing himself out of the radar/coms chair, Hank grabbed at the pull bars and moved about the bridge until he was able to spin himself into the pilot seat. Once seated, he proceeded to strap himself in as he started spinning up the engines.

  The readout on the monitor told him he’d have his maneuvering thrusters ready in sixty seconds. It’d take another three minutes to get the main engines ready to engage.

  Joshee joined him on the bridge along with Ivan, their cook. Ivan had spent a handful of years in the Republic Navy, and he operated their lone self-defense weapon. Joshee and Ivan took one look at the camera and the radar screen and clearly knew they were in trouble because they went speeding into action.

  Hank turned to Joshee. “Get on the radio and send a distress message to any Republic ships in the area,” he directed. “Make sure the MOS knows we’re in trouble and send them our exact location.”

  “Everyone, get your helmets back on and hook your EVA suits up,” Ivan said. “This could turn ugly, guys.” He swiftly followed his own orders, reattaching his helmet and fastening the life support hose to his suit.

  “Get that gun spun up and ready, Ivan,” Hank exclaimed. “I’m about to initiate our engines and get us out of this place.” As he spoke, he began using the maneuvering thrusters.

  In another minute, the engines would be spun up and ready. Once they got out of the Belt, he’d run the engines up to full speed and try to outrun these guys.

  “On it, boss.”

  Ivan flicked a couple of switches, activating their lone self-defense weapon. It was a single-barreled 20mm autocannon. At Ivan’s behest, Hank had installed the autocannon a few years ago, on the off chance they encountered a pirate. They’d mounted it on top of the ship, near the crew compartment behind the bridge. That way, Ivan could quickly reload the magazine when it ran out of ammo.

  The next sixty seconds went by in a blur as everyone performed their individual duties. They’d run through a few drills like this in the past. Judging by how long it was taking them to complete a few of their tasks, they probably needed to practice more often.

  “They still aren’t responding to our hails,” Joshee said to Hank.

  Now that they’d cleared a couple of the large asteroids, Hank gave the ship a bit more speed. However, they still had a few dozen more to get around before he could really open up the engines.

  “Should I fire a warning shot?” Ivan asked.

  “Everyone, seal your EVA suits up, get your helmets on, and strap in. We’re going to make a run for it!” shouted Hank over the loudspeaker.

  “Hey! Should I shoot, Hank?” Ivan asked again, louder this time.

  “Yes. Fire a shot across its bow and see if that wakes them up,” Hank responded hurriedly. He was busily steering them around another floating rock.

  A second later, Ivan fired off two rounds. The 20mm slugs zipped right in front of the
approaching vessel. They missed, but that was the intent—to let the other ship know they could defend themselves and hope it didn’t come down to that.

  Suddenly, the radio crackled, and a voice with a distinctly Irish accent spoke. “This is Captain Liam of the Gaelic. Stand down and prepare to be boarded. If you cooperate, no one will get hurt. If you fire on us again, we will return fire.”

  The individuals on the bridge all looked nervously at each other.

  “Who the hell is that?” Joshee asked. “I’ve never heard of a Captain Liam or the Gaelic.”

  “Hang on, guys, I’m about to go full throttle on the thrusters,” Hank announced. The ship swiftly picked up speed as he ramped up the power to the engines.

  They were just opening up some distance between them and the pirate ship when Ivan shouted, “He’s firing!”

  The ship shook and rattled as it took a couple of hits. Alarm bells rang, and a series of red warning lights blinked on Hank’s computer display.

  “We’ve been hit. They’re going after our engines!” Joshee yelled frantically.

  “Return fire, Ivan. Try to take ’em out!” Hank bellowed. He tried to position one of the asteroids between them and the pirate ship. Chunks of rock broke off as a few of the railgun projectiles slammed into it instead of their ship.

  Ivan depressed the trigger, firing half a dozen more slugs at the pirate ship. Hank knew he’d be aiming for the centerline of the vehicle in hopes of hitting something important. It was also easier to hit a larger target than a smaller one.

  A couple of chunks of metal broke off from the pirate vessel. The ship executed evasive maneuvers to avoid the strings of slugs Hank’s ship was sending their way. Ivan fired another dozen shots at the ship, and Hank hoped like hell that the pilot of the pirate ship would decide to break off its attack and go find someone else to prey on.

  The pirate ship took a couple more hits. Ivan depressed the trigger to send another volley.

  Click, click, click.

  “I’m out of ammo. I’ve got to change out the magazine!” Ivan shouted as he unstrapped himself and floated out of his seat. He made his way over to the magrail’s magazine, pulled the hundred-round magazine out and reached for a fresh one to attach in its place.

  Joshee, who’d been watching the pirate ship, yelled, “Hurry up, Ivan! He’s firing again. Brace for impact!”

  Hank tried to turn the mining barge to the right with his emergency maneuver thrusters. He desperately tried to dodge the slugs being thrown at them as he applied power to their engines. This time, several objects ripped right through the hull of the mining vessel and into the crew compartment behind the bridge.

  The bridge began a violent decompression. Air swirled out of the three-centimeter holes being punched through their home. As Hank turned to look back, geysers of frozen blood erupted from the puncture holes in several of his friends’ environmental suits. The magrail projectiles tore right through their bodies like a hot knife through butter.

  Seconds later, the bridge section around Hank sparked and flashed as more projectiles ripped through the area around him. One of the slugs tore through the side panel of the Dolly and severed his right arm and left leg as it continued through the ship. It took only a fraction of a second for Hank’s suit to lose oxygen pressure. He died before his brain had a chance to register any pain.

  With the crew dead and the ship disabled, the CMS Dolly went into a drift. Power on board the vessel flickered for a moment before it eventually turned off.

  A short while later, a boarding crew took control of the ship. The pirates went to work stripping the ship of its cargo and anything else of value. Once they had taken what they wanted, they towed the vessel back to their lair using a tractor beam. They’d add it to the collection of ships they’d stolen, which they would either turn into pirate ships or use for scrap. With virtually no military or police force to monitor the Belt, piracy was becoming a booming industry.

  *******

  Captain Liam Patrick looked at the list of what they’d just captured from the mining ship. There were a few tons of water and other refined isotopes and minerals. It didn’t sound like much, but this haul would probably net them a good twenty or thirty million, plus an ice mining barge—something they didn’t encounter often.

  Turning to look at his first officer, Liam asked, “How bad is the damage?”

  David shrugged his shoulders. “Could’ve been worse, Captain. If we keep running into armed mining barges, we may want to slap some armor plates on the Gaelic. Otherwise, one of these days, these miners are going to get lucky.”

  Liam let out a deep sigh. He hated this part of the job. Not the stealing—there was plenty of ore and ice out here in the Belt to make a person rich. He hated the killing. Most miners would give up their goods and fly away with their lives. Occasionally, like today, they’d run across a crew that opted to fight. It always ended the same way—with the mining crew dead and their families left to wonder what had happened.

  This world we’re building needs to atone for what we’re doing to make it possible, Liam thought.

  Chapter Three

  A Secret Mission

  Fifteen Years Later

  2090

  Hilton Moorea Lagoon Resort & Spa

  Tahiti

  “Hurry up, Miles. Our ride is here,” Lilly said urgently as she waved him on. She was so excited she could barely contain herself.

  “I just got our bag, I’m on my way,” he replied as he pulled their suitcase behind him.

  The air smelled fresh, with the scent of wildflowers wafting in from somewhere as the sliding glass doors opened. Miles quickly followed his wife out the door. The two of them were greeted by a man from the resort with a digital placard that had their names on it.

  Miles called out to the man as he and Lilly walked toward him. The driver smiled warmly as he approached. He immediately took charge of their suitcase and placed it in the back of his vehicle as they climbed in.

  Miles and his wife, Lilly, had just arrived at the Fa’a’ā International Airport in Tahiti. They were here to celebrate their thirtieth wedding anniversary and Miles’s promotion and prestigious new command.

  In a handful of months, he would take command of Space Command’s newest warship, the first of an entirely new class of deep space vessels being built for the ever-growing space navy. There was a lot to celebrate, and no better place to do it than away from the hustle and bustle of life on a small Polynesian island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

  They boarded the electric vehicle, and their driver whisked them away to the dock a few kilometers down the road. As they got out of the car, they were greeted with an incredible view of the island of Moorea and its iconic jungle-covered mountains.

  Lilly squeezed him as their driver handed their suitcase off to the boat attendant. “It’s beautiful, Miles. Thank you so much for insisting that we come here,” she said with a warm smile, her skin glinting in the bright sun as sweat began to form.

  “It sure beats staying in Florida. It’s just so flat there.”

  Their guide told them to board the boat that would take them, along with three other couples, to the Hilton Moorea Lagoon Resort & Spa for a relaxing eight-day, seven-night stay. With their only two children now safely in college, they were finally empty nesters and could take a trip like this alone.

  When they arrived at the dock to the hotel, they completed a quick check-in and were then led to their bungalow. Miles had booked one of the overwater suites with an incredible view, surrounded by azure waters as clear as could be. The attendant showed them around their room and pointed out some of its incredible amenities. The most impressive thing about the place was the view from its many windows.

  Once the attendant left, Lilly gave Miles a mischievous smile as she reached into her purse and pulled out a small zippered container. “If you can believe it, my entire swimsuit fits in this little thing.”

  Miles felt his cheeks redden a little. S
he’d been teasing him for a week about this new bikini she’d bought. Despite his many attempts to get her to model it for him, she’d insisted it was a surprise for when they arrived in Tahiti.

  Dropping what he was doing, Miles made his way toward his lovely bride of thirty years when his Space Command communicator chirped, letting him know someone was attempting to get in touch with him.

  You’ve got to be kidding me…

  His wife proceeded to take her blouse off. As he continued to move closer to her, the device chirped a second time. Lilly saw his hand moving toward it and scowled. “Don’t even think of answering that.”

  She had a look on her face that said he was jeopardizing the opportunity of getting laid before their welcome dinner at the resort.

  He glanced down at the communication device in his hand as she slipped her bra off next. “Don’t do it,” she echoed as she slipped out of her capri pants.

  The device chirped a third time, this time louder and more urgently. He tapped the communicator’s sensor as he lifted the device to his mouth. “Captain Hunt speaking. This had better be urgent!” he growled.

  Lilly just shook her head in disappointment. “Wrong choice, Captain.” She reached for her clothes and began putting her capris back on.

  “Miles, it’s Admiral Bailey. I know you’re on your second honeymoon, and I wouldn’t do this to you if it weren’t important. But something’s happened. I’ve dispatched a shuttle to the resort you’re staying at. It’ll be there in half an hour to pick you up.”

  Miles just stood there, unsure if he had heard right. Lilly was rather angrily rebuttoning her blouse. He could sense her disappointment at this intrusion.

  “Admiral, you have no idea what you just interrupted. Please tell me this is a mistake,” he pleaded.