Frontier's Reach: A Space Opera Adventure (Frontiers Book 1)

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Frontier's Reach: A Space Opera Adventure (Frontiers Book 1) Page 5

by Robert C. James


  A stab in the heart.

  “We’re not going to dig up the past for the next six months, are we?”

  Susan rolled her eyes. “Believe me, that’s the last thing I want to do.”

  An awkward silence ensued. Nicolas wasn’t sure what to say. Luckily, he was saved by his ever reliable first officer.

  “Perera to Marquez.”

  He activated the intercom on his desk a little too quickly. “Marquez here.”

  “Sir, we’re ready. Station control has given us the green light for departure.”

  “Excellent. I’ll be there shortly. Marquez out.”

  He looked over at Susan. “You’re welcome to join us.”

  She seemed to consider it for a moment then shook her head. “I think I’ll head to my quarters.”

  “Fair enough.”

  They both stood, and Nicolas opened the door for her. As he stepped over the threshold, Susan put a hand on his arm.

  “We’ll be out here for a long time,” she said. “I don’t want things to be like this.”

  “Me either.”

  They exchanged one last glance and entered the Vanguard’s command deck. Susan exited through the hatchway while Nicolas made his way down into the pit.

  Commander Perera waited for him at the central command station and indicated to the readiness reports coming in. There were green lights across the board. He couldn’t have been prouder of what his crew had accomplished, rushing to get to Admiral Mueller’s deadline.

  “I must pay Engineer Devers a visit,” Nicolas said. “He’s gone above and beyond the last two days.”

  “I believe he mentioned something about a bottle of scotch.” Perera grinned.

  Nicolas had almost forgotten. When he’d been down at HQ, he’d called up Devers and told him he’d give him and his engineering team a bottle of his prized McKinley Oak scotch whiskey, should they get the Vanguard out of port on time.

  “That’s right. Damn.” His experience as a CO taught him bribery was a valuable tool to get what he wanted. But he only had one bottle left. At the time it seemed like a good deal. “I guess I wouldn’t be too popular if I reneged, would I?”

  “I think it’s fair to say you’d have a mutiny on your hands.”

  Nicolas glanced toward the empty hatchway, remembering the many times he and Susan shared a glass of the scotch. He frowned then turned to his first officer. “Well, we better get moving. Would you like to do the honors, Commander?”

  “Ensign Xeh,” his XO instructed the Vanguard’s communications officer. “Inform all hands to prepare for departure. Helm, detach docking couplings and actuate reverse maneuvering thrust.”

  Ensign Worthington ran his hands over the helm, keying in the commands, bringing the vessel to life. “Aye, Commander. Couplings detached. Actuating reverse thrust.”

  The deck vibrated beneath Nicolas’s feet as the ship proceeded away from the docking network of Alpha Station.

  “Turn to port,” Perera ordered. “One hundred and thirty degrees. One-quarter thrust.”

  “Aye. One hundred and thirty degrees. One-quarter thrust.”

  The Vanguard pulled away from its home for the past two months and rotated on her axis. The forward viewport revealed the black starfield of space beyond Earth’s orbit.

  “We’re clear of the station,” Worthington informed his superiors.

  Perera checked the scanners, ensuring the path ahead was clear of any vessels. “All exit lanes are open,” he said. “The Vanguard is yours, Captain.”

  “Set a course through the exit lane,” Nicolas instructed Worthington.

  “Course laid in.”

  “Take us to one-half thrust.”

  “Aye, Captain, one-half thrust.”

  The Vanguard powered away from Earth and sailed past the orbit of Luna.

  “We’ve cleared all major gravitational fields, sir,” Worthington noted.

  “Lieutenant Kovak,” Nicolas said to his FTL navigator, “plot FTL trajectory to the Orion System.” He knew she would have already done it, but calculating the correct course while traveling at FTL speed was a precise science. No one wanted to shoot through a star or a rogue comet.

  Kovak did the final checks and gave him a thumbs up. “Course plotted, Captain. FTL ready.”

  Nicolas smiled. “Ensign Worthington, engage FTL drive.”

  Worthington shared the captain’s giddiness and punched in the command. A hum resonated around the command deck and the ship pulsated while the tritonium and plasma reaction took place inside the Vanguard’s engine room.

  Even after the last few hectic days, Nicolas couldn’t help but get a kick out of these moments. This was why he’d signed up all those years ago. In a flash the stars began to contour, twist and bend. Then in a thunderous roar, the Vanguard boomed into FTL.

  Nicolas gazed over to the empty hatchway and his grin faded.

  Eight

  Odyssey Station

  What the hell was I thinking?

  Jason knocked down a shot of tequila and let it burn all the way down his throat. The bar he’d stumbled into was a damn sight prettier than The Bended Elbow. Bright lighting and flashing colors bathed the walls, while the bar stools were so soft they didn’t leave a flat spot on his ass.

  Maybe I should come here more often.

  The young barwoman was also a breath of fresh air. Literally. She had none of the offensive odors that Vic emitted. Nice to look at, too.

  “Another?” she asked.

  Not even a lecture about my tab.

  “Please.”

  She filled the shot glass with more tequila and walked away to another customer at the end of the bar. Jason eyed his drink and shook his head. He felt like a complete idiot. He’d returned to the home he’d abandoned and begged his brother to take him to far-flung depths of space. He was amazed his ass hadn’t been kicked all the way back down the Argo’s rear access ramp. Tyler had every right to hate him. They all did.

  He picked up another shot and gulped it down his gullet.

  “So, the prodigal son returns after ten years, and you can’t even come and say hello?”

  Jason put the glass down and turned around. He shouldn’t have been surprised. “Aly?”

  Like Tyler, she was all grown up. No longer a girl. Now a woman. Her blue eyes sparkled, and her blonde hair radiated under the warm lights. It was in contrast to her grimy overalls.

  She took a seat beside Jason and her eyes narrowed. “What’s with that beard?”

  Jason scratched at it. “Yeah, your dad wasn’t too fond of it either.”

  “It makes you look like a hobo.”

  “Not far off, to be honest.”

  The barwoman walked back over.

  “Do you want a drink?” Jason asked Aly.

  “Water’s fine,” she said to the barwoman.

  Jason slid the shot glasses across the bar. He’d had enough tequila for one day. “I’ll just have a beer.”

  “So, are you going to answer my question?” Aly said.

  Jason tried to remember if she’d asked one.

  “You didn’t come to see me,” Aly reiterated.

  “Oh? Well, you know, I didn’t come back to the ship for a reunion.” He could tell she wasn’t convinced. “I’m sorry.” He tried to change the subject and prodded at her overalls. “So, you’ve become the Argo’s engineer.”

  She wiped some grease from her clothes. “Well, someone had to take the reins when your dad died.” She stopped and corrected herself. “I didn’t mean that. You leaving—”

  “It’s okay.” When his father was captain of the Argo, he was also responsible for keeping it flying. When he passed, someone had to replace him. Jason was glad Aly was the one to fill the void. “You’ve done a good job. It’s still in flying order. You don’t see many E-Class ships running anymore.”

  “Just takes a bit of TLC.” She bit her bottom lip. “And a hell of a lot of work.”

  The barwoman came back with Aly�
��s water and Jason’s beer.

  “I’m surprised you haven’t upgraded by now. There’s some serious hardware out there these days.”

  “Replace the Argo?”

  “Well, yeah. It’s—”

  “Jason, the Argo’s our home.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “It was yours once, too.”

  “Yeah, I know.” A pang of guilt washed over Jason. When everything was all said and done, he’d been born and raised on that old rust bucket.

  “And it’s not like we have the money. Just upgrading to a Mark IV FTL engine was expensive.” Aly took a sip of her drink. “Those new ships cost a bomb.”

  “Business hasn’t been great?”

  “We have good times. We have bad times. It’s difficult with a crew of four.”

  Was that a hint?

  “Tyler’s a good captain, my dad still steers the old girl and mends our bumps and bruises, and Althaus still gets us all the jobs he can wrangle, but it’s a lot of hard work,” she said. “There’s more competition out there than there used to be.”

  “Have you ever thought of hiring help?”

  She chuckled. “Again, we don’t have the—”

  “Money. Right.” He took a long gulp of his beer. “Sometimes you’ve got to spend money to make money.”

  Aly put her glass down. “Should you really be doling out business advice?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, you’ve been out of the service, what, three years now? Instead of coming back to the Argo or, say, heading to Earth to make a go at it, you’ve come to Vesta.”

  She was no longer being jovial, and Jason didn’t like it.

  “What have you been doing with yourself here?” she asked.

  “Mostly courier work. A lot of big corporations run out of here.”

  “Who are you with at the moment?”

  Jason hesitated. “I’m between jobs right now.”

  Aly smiled, but it was a facade. She obviously felt sorry for him. He didn’t like that either.

  “And why Odyssey Station?”

  Jason slammed his glass down with a violent bang. “Because I can be alone here!”

  Everyone around the bar stopped and looked in their direction. Jason glared at them and they quickly returned to their business.

  Aly leaned in toward him. “And how’s that been working out for you?”

  The question caught him off guard. In the mirror on the opposite side of the bar, he stared at himself. They were no longer children, and a lot had happened since they’d last seen each other.

  Her voice softened. “Tyler filled me in with what happened before you left the service.”

  Jason didn’t want the world to know about Nash and what’d happened that day in Nebula TPA-338. But he had little choice if he had any way of convincing Tyler of taking him to Frontier’s Reach.

  “Is that why you came here?” she said. “I mean to Odyssey Station.”

  Jason polished off his beer in another sip. She seemed astonished at how quickly he drank it. He waved down the barwoman for another. “You think I ran away?”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but Jason cut her off. “You think I ran away from the Argo when Dad passed, and you think I ran away from the service when Nash died.”

  “You said it, not me.” Aly was straight down the line. Honest.

  Just like her father.

  “It’s not that simple, Aly.”

  “Tell me.” She put her hand on his and her warmth flowed through him.

  “I sent him out there. It should’ve been me in that pod. I should’ve died, not him.”

  “You can’t blame yourself.”

  He pulled his hand away. “You don’t understand.”

  The barwoman returned with his beer, and he stared down at it, doing his best not to make any eye contact with Aly. Silence lingered between them for several moments.

  “See, this is why I didn’t come and see you. It’s all too hard.” He sighed. “Just walking back onto the Argo again was agony enough. Remembering Dad. Not being able to remember Mom.”

  He looked into Aly’s eyes, almost getting lost inside them.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to come at you like that. I just miss you. We all miss you. We’ve been waiting for you to come home for a long time.”

  “Even Althaus?”

  “Well, I suppose not everyone.” They both laughed. “Your heart’s set on the Reach, isn’t it?”

  “There’s more to Nash’s death. I know it. Maybe, just maybe I’ll find out what.”

  “Then you’ll have your closure?”

  That was a question Jason couldn’t answer. “We’ll see.”

  Aly drank the remains of her water and put it down on the bar. “Well, make sure you’re at the Bay Seventeen tonight at oh-twenty-one hundred.”

  He cocked his head sideways.

  She smiled at him. “Tyler’s decided to take you to the Reach.”

  Jason shook his head in astonishment. “Thank you.”

  “You’ve got nothing to thank me—”

  “I know you had something to do with it.”

  She stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t forget. Bay Seventeen.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  With that, she walked from the bar, like an angel into the night.

  Nine

  Cargo Ship Argo

  With a bag on each shoulder, Jason strode into the Argo’s cargo bay. He’d brought with him the only possessions he had left. Everything else had been sold or pawned so he could get the money he needed to pay his brother. He thanked his lucky stars for Tyler’s compassion. Short of hijacking another ship, he wasn’t sure what other way he could get to the Reach. And he didn’t particularly want a criminal record.

  He stepped toward the elevator and Althaus appeared out of the corner of his eye. His uncle was doing a final inventory check of the fully stocked cargo bay. The pair glimpsed at each other. Althaus looked at Jason as if he were a parasite. Jason wondered if he should be the bigger man and say something. Anything. He tread warily toward him, but before he could open his mouth to speak, Althaus turned his back on him and disappeared off down to the other end of the cargo bay.

  Jason shrugged.

  Screw you, too.

  He walked back to the elevator chute and ascended to an empty B Deck. He hadn’t expected a welcoming committee, with everyone preparing for departure, but the silence gave the habitat section of the Argo an eerie feeling. He could almost touch the ghosts of the past surrounding him. When they were kids, he, Tyler, and Aly would chase each other up and down the corridor, hiding in all the nooks and crannies getting up to no good. Letting the nostalgia pass, he headed toward his quarters. He hadn’t expected to be given his old room, but guessed when he left and Dad had died, Tyler would’ve taken the captain’s quarters.

  Struggling with his bags, he leaned down and pressed the terminal beside the door. It unlocked, and he pushed it open. It was almost pitch black, save for some light coming through the viewport. Jason reached around the corner to the interior door terminal and flicked a switch. The lights blinked on, illuminating his quarters in a dull luminescence. He raised his eyebrows. It was as if he’d entered a time machine. His room had not changed from when he’d left the Argo, ten years earlier.

  The bed had the same blue-and-white patterned sheets on it. The two posters of swimsuit models Sky Jensen and Anabelle Pearl were still plastered on the bulkhead behind his bed, and on the opposite wall was his giant poster of the Neptune LC Land Speeder.

  A knock on the door interrupted him as he put his bags down. “Come in.”

  The door opened, and Tyler walked in. He immediately twisted up his nose. “It’s a bit stale in here.”

  “I guess that’s what happens when you keep a door locked for a decade.” Jason waved his hands around his quarters. “Did you leave my room like this?”

  “Well, you up and left, remember?
You took what you needed, and the rest stayed here. What did you think, I’d pack it away for you?”

  “Fair point, I guess.” He knew his brother would never admit to being sentimental. All the same, Jason was surprised that after he’d gone to the academy, Tyler hadn’t come in and ripped everything down, packed it into a crate, and blown it out an airlock. “Thanks.”

  “For your room?”

  “For taking me to Frontier’s Reach.”

  Tyler’s eyes darted sideways. “Aly had to convince me.”

  “I know.” Jason walked to his closet and opened it up. The musty smell was even worse than the rest of the room. Jackets, pants, and sweaters from yesteryear, which were severely out of fashion, took up the bulk of the space, while several crates were stacked up beneath them.

  Jason picked one up and placed it on his bed. He yanked off the lid and peered inside. There were more clothes, a tattered E-Class technical manual, some flight instruction books, and a photo frame.

  Huh, what’s this?

  He flipped it over and brushed the dust from it. Inside the silver frame was a family photo. Jason shook his head in disbelief. It was a picture of him as a toddler. His father… and his mother. “Well, I’ll be damned. Come and look at this.”

  He turned, but Tyler was gone. Jason sighed and regarded the photo. It’s faded color was just as faded as the memory. The fateful day she’d died was from a time before he could remember. But sometimes he would gladly take it if it meant being able to see her face when he closed his eyes.

  Jason put the photo frame back in the box and returned it to the closet. With the crates secured, he opened his bags from Odyssey Station. All he had left were a few changes of clothes, old rank pins from the service, and a small box containing the medals he’d awarded during the war. He’d wondered why he’d even bothered to keep them. He rummaged to find something a little more to his liking.

  A bottle of Blue Jacket bourbon. Jason bought it from Vic, just before he’d left the station. The top was still sealed. He thought about opening it, but a rumble beneath his feet stopped him. The hum of the Argo’s engines reverberated through him. Out the viewport, the other ships disappeared as the Argo lifted off and made her way through the access lane of Odyssey’s hangar deck. Jason regarded the bottle of bourbon and stashed it inside his bedside table.

 

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