Sleeping in the Stars (Marston Chronicles Book 1)

by D Patrick Wagner

  “Yes. She talked me through while I was setting everything up.”

  “What about the landing pad rental space for the shuttle?

  “We have that too. No problems there.”

  “That solves our transportation issues. Mack, how goes the restock?”

  “Done, Cap. We can leave anytime.”

  “Ok. I’ve filed a flight plan stating that I have other clients that need transportation. So no one should be concerned when Griffin isn’t on site. Sounds like we’re ready. Let’s go to the moon.”

  Krag climbed into the command pod, Sue took navigation and Mack took his customary place at sensors and weapons. Keiko remained isolated in her cabin. The hour trip brought the small, fast ship to the dark side of the moon. After careful scans Mack found the spot.

  “Cap, there’s a nice meteor crater hidden by the shadow of a mountain range. It’s the right size. The Griffin should nestle in just fine.”

  With an eye focus, Krag adjusted his helmet to display Mack’s screen. “I see it. That’ll do. Going in.”

  Krag brought the Griffin in, partially rotated it so that it pointed away from the mountain range and gently dropped it in the crater. The directional jets blew up clouds of moon dust, creating a mini sandstorm enveloping the ship. Being on the dark side of the moon, Krag was pretty sure that no one had been watching.

  “Everyone set?”

  “Just need to pack up, Cap,”” Mack responded for the rest of the team.

  “Buster, go to complete shutdown, with only life support.”

  “Yes, sir,”

  “Also, keep passive sensors active. And set all systems for emergency combat launch.”

  Buster took less than a second. “Done, Captain. Shall I prepare my avatar?”

  “That won’t be needed.”

  Everyone spent the next hour packing everything needed for an extended stay in a luxury hotel on a vacation planet. When they were done, the four of them stood staring at a mound of luggage in the shuttle that was much larger than anyone had anticipated.

  “Well, Cap, that’s a lot of stuff.”

  “Yes, Mack, a lot of stuff. Let’s go relax and recoup.”

  Krag watched as Keiko hobbled along with her cane to one of the passenger seats in the shuttle’s bay. Sue sat across from her, with the small table in between. Krag and Mack took their places in the pilot and co-pilot chairs.

  Once Krag closed up the shuttle, he commanded, “Buster, open the doors.” Krag and Mack watched as the clam doors at the stern of the Griffin scissored open. Then Krag floated the shuttle out, pointed it towards the Planet Pacifica and fired the jets. Circling his ship, he saw the doors close and, with a small sadness left Griffin, knowing that it would be sitting cold and silent as it had those years in the past.

  For the two hour flight, Krag just stared at the approaching planet, woolgathering about the past and possible futures. Mack and Sue busily worked their data pads, passing ideas and plans back and forth, caught in the excitement of working on the alien artifact. Keiko sat quietly, lost in her dark cloud of sadness over the violence that Krag was capable of and the remorse over the lives she had taken.

  Mortek War Fleet

  Five days after the council meeting, War Counselor stood on the bridge of his flag ship, his four legs anchored by magnetic boots. Holding a closed container of nutrition, he stuck his tongue through the self-opening/closing membrane and paused while his salivary acids liquefied a portion into sludge where he proceeded to suck it into his snout.

  “Blah!” he thought. “Nothing worse than war rations. But the home needed everything else.”

  Turning to the ship’s captain he asked, “Did the launch go smoothly?”

  “Yes, Counselor. Everything and everyone are reported as correctly deployed and combat ready.”

  “Good.” Turning to the other counselor, War commanded, “Materialist, give me a rundown on current assets.”

  “Yes, Counselor. We have five fleets. Each fleet has 1 space craft carrier, with 200 attack craft. Each fleet has two dreadnaught class battle ships, 6 cruiser, 15 destroyers, 60 frigates, 1000 assault craft, each holding 3,000 troops with both heavy and light weaponry. Of the 3,000 troops, 500 are flyers. Each assault craft also contains tanks, armored siege cannons and mortar platforms.”

  “Excellent. Strategist, we are going to be in space, weightless for a quarter of a solar cycle. Work up a rotation of ship maintenance, physical training and non-lethal competition. I want this fleet ready to fight, ready to conquer as soon as we break through the gate.”

  Strategist Counselor replied, “It will be done, Sire”.

  Lawrence Gregor’s Home

  Five days. Not enough time for worry. But enough time for concern. Although it would take about two weeks for Griffin to return, it would only take about seven days for a message to be received from the Cencore system. And Lawrence Gregor had his intelligence network in place, aggressively scrounging for knowledge and transmitting it down the communication channels between Cencore and Novius.

  Sitting in his office, at the desk where Gregor controlled his vast empire, both criminal and legal, he couldn’t get motivated to grind through his daily management needs. Krag Marston and the alien artifact sat heavily on his mind, crowding out any other energies and dropping him into a state of stagnation.

  Looking up from the unread data pad, he saw his daughter enter. “Hello, dear. What can I do for you?”

  “Nothing, Papa. You seem distracted. I thought maybe I could help you.”

  “No. No, nothing. It’s just the waiting. That’s all.”

  “Waiting on Griffin? Isn’t it another week before it’s due?”

  “Yes. But you can’t stop an old man from worrying.”

  “You’re not old,” Harriet admonished as she kissed him on his balding head.”

  Even intergalactic crime lords loved their moments of familial intimacy. Patting her on her arm, Lawrence said, “I’m ok. Well, back to work. Have you lined up those scientists that we are going to need to study the artifact?”

  “I have a list. But I want to talk you out of having them go to our shipyard. Even kept in the dark, they will be able to figure out where the lab is.”

  “I know. It’s that or we construct a lab here, in the cellars.”

  “We’ve got the money. I want to talk you into setting up the lab here, not on the shipyards.

  “Let’s do this. You get a complete list of the equipment and capabilities of the shipyard lab, cost it out and do a search to see if we can get the equipment here for a duplicate lab. Or maybe someplace new. Then let’s talk again.”

  Yes, Papa. Give me a couple of days.”

  “Deal. Now, this old man needs to get back to work.”

  Lawrence smiled as he watched his elegant daughter leave his office. In a lighter mood he finally was able to get back to the job of running a multi-galaxy empire.

  Chapter 10

  Dreadnaught Odin

  Three weeks. Still no sign of the Griffin or its captain, Krag Marston. Everyone on board walked on eggs. No one willingly engaged Vice Admiral Weiskoff in conversation or social pleasantries. Theodore Weiskoff the Third was on a tear. His anger and rage constantly simmered just below the surface, threatening to erupt at the slightest provocation.

  Carefully, walking on cat’s paws, Odin’s captain approached the Vice Admiral. “Sir, thirty minutes from the gate to Arium. What are your orders?”

  “Take us in slowly. I want a leisurely speed towards Novia Prime. Send out scout ships and search this system. See if Griffin succeeded in sneaking in.”

  “Aye aye, Sir.”

  Also, tie into the local communication grid. Keep track of anything related to Gregor and his henchmen. Find out if any communiqués tie into the Griffin. Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone.”

  The Vice Admiral returned back to staring through the forward view screen and continued his slow burn. Captain Brewer turned to his XO, Lieutenant Har
ding and issued the detailed orders that would fulfill Vice Admiral Weiskoff’s requirements.

  Thirty Minutes later the three ship fleet burst into Novius space, Odin leading the triangle formation, followed by the destroyer Thunder and the assault ship Conqueror. The patrol almost apologetically signaled the Odin to verify identity and purpose.

  The communications officer replied, “This is the Federacy dreadnaught Odin and two escorts, Thunder and Conqueror. Purpose is to follow the mandate issued by the Federacy High Command.”

  “Thank you, Odin.” With that, the patrol ship slinked away, like a puppy worried about being punished.

  Captain Brewer approached the still standing, staring Vice Admiral.

  “Sir, transition complete. All ships report no issues and fully space worthy.”

  “Very good, Captain. Time to Novia Prime orbit?”

  “At this speed, two days.”

  “Good. Let them get nervous. Let them know we are coming.” This was said with almost a snarl.

  Lawrence Gregor’s Home

  “Father, the Federacy has arrived in force!” Harriet almost shouted this as she burst into Lawrence’s office.

  “Slow down, dear. What do you mean?”

  “Three ships just came through the gate, an hour ago.”

  “What are the ships?”

  “One is the Odin. You can recognize Weiskoff’s dreadnaught anywhere. Then there’s a destroyer and an assault ship.”

  “Well, he’s finally grown a pair and decided to do something. You know the drill. Get your mom and get to Sanctuary. You’ve got two hours to pack and get off planet. Take the yacht. Halcyon is loaded and ready to go. I’ve got the rest.”

  “But, Dad!”

  “No ‘buts’, young lady. We knew this day would come. I have things that need to be done. And I can’t worry about you and Gloria. Go! Do it! Everything is ready. We just need to do it. I need you to take care of your mom. Any longer than two hours and this system will be swarming with scout ships and surveillance probes.” Loop around the backside of the sun then sneak through the gate. You know we own the patrol ship so you won’t have any trouble there. Keep your mom safe.” Lawrence spoke the last almost as a plea.

  “Ok.” This was said with a hang-dog look and a pout. With that Harriet turned and left. And to her credit, she didn’t slam the door.

  After his daughter left, Lawrence got on his communicator and contacted his second-in-command. “Sean. You heard?”

  “Yup.”

  “They’ll be here in two days. I want to be gone in one. When was the last time you checked Gazelle?”

  “Less than a week ago. Every two weeks, per standard ops, Mr. Gregor.”

  “Good. Do we need to load anything else?”

  “Just your personal belongings and latest data dumps. Then we are good to go.”

  “Good. No, excellent. Is Gazelle connected to our intranet?”

  “Yes. Let me do a final check before you start downloading.”

  “Good idea, Sean. Make sure, from this point forward, we go dark. Send out the scramble notice then shut everything down. No electronic communications. Everything verbal. I don’t need that ass hat looking up my skirt.

  “Roger that, Sir.”

  “I’ll begin loading my personal belongings. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume that the connection is in place and begin the transfer. What about the crash protocols?”

  “I’ll have the information tech people do a systems check and verify that everything is a go.”

  “Four hours, Sean. That’s all. Then we’re gone. Get everyone out of here. They all know where to scatter.”

  With that final admonishment, Gregor clicked off, rose and approached one of the wood-grained, art covered walls. After carefully pressing in five different spots and stepping back he waited as a large portion of the wall slid into a hidden recess. He stood for a moment, gazing at the tall safe door, behind which resided the accumulation of his life’s work. Then he approached, keyed in a security code, stared into an optical scanner, pressed his thumb on a print reader and pushed his index finger on a needle which drew a small amount of blood. After the DNA verification the heavy door swung open. Going inside, Gregor proceeded to pull out the four carefully filled metal cases and loaded them on the cart stored specifically for this purpose. Then he keyed in another code at the back of the vault which opened another heavy door. This one disclosed a network of secret tunnels, one of which led to a hidden launch bay that berthed the Gazelle.

  Turning back to the main vault entrance, Gregor pushed the heavy, reinforced door closed and shot a series of heavy bolts, effectively turning the door into an impregnable wall. With a sigh and a shrug, he turned back to the cart holding the results of a lifetime of criminal effort and proceeded to hurriedly push the cart down the tunnel and towards his escape.

  At the end of the tunnel, Gregor stopped for a moment and inspected his escape ship, a ship that he hoped he would never have to use. There sat Gazelle, a light freighter almost never used and in pristine condition. Its outer hull gleamed from the polishing and maintenance that the work crew performed every two weeks. Approaching the stern of the clean, little ship, he keyed in his entrance code and waited for the ramp to lower. Then he pushed the cart in and made his way around and through the lashed down cargo and reached a heavy vault welded to a bulkhead. Again going through the physiological security routine, he opened the door, placed his life’s work onto shelves, strapped the cases down and anchored the cart to the floor. Exiting, he closed the vault and left his ship, heading for the family living quarters through another tunnel and up multiple stairwells.

  Walking into the foyer, Lawrence heard packing noises in the back rooms. Following the racket he found his wife and daughter guiding the house staff in organizing objects and clothes for packing, loading crates with needed household items and wanted artwork.

  “Forty-five minutes,” Gregor announced. This brought the bustle to a stop as everyone looked at the family patriarch.

  “We’re almost done,” Gloria, his wife responded. “You can pack up your personal stuff. We’ve got the rest.” It was obvious who ruled the family roost.

  “Yes, dear. You keep going. I need my girls safe. Forty-five minutes,” he re-emphasized.

  “Father, we know what we’re doing. We’ve got this.” Harriet took her queue from her mother.

  “I know. I just worry.” Looking around, he saw the maid, butler and cook waiting patiently to get back to work. “And you three. You and your families always have a home with us. So please come along.”

  “We already invited them, dear,” his wife answered for them. “They all accepted. Their families are packing as we speak. As I said, we’ll be ready. Now shoo! We don’t need you under our feet.”

  “Yes, dear.” With that, Lawrence left his family and staff to their tasks and proceeded to collect his personal items while looking one last time at his family home of more than thirty years.

  Lawrence spent the next forty-five minutes watching the frantic rush of getting everyone and everything onto the luxury liner and getting it launched. Watching it lift off, Gregor let out a long, slow breath of relief, dropped back into executive mode and headed back to the Gazelle to drop off his personal belongings and insure that his ship was ready to sail.

  Arriving at his ship and coming on board, he walked through the cargo bay, down the hallway that bisected the two rows of living quarters and stopped at the galley. There he saw his management team sitting in exactly the same positions as they always did when he called a board meeting. The head of the main table remained empty. That was his seat. To his right sat Sean Miller, his second in command. Directly across from him sat Jean Forsythe, the ship’s pilot and the woman who commanded Gregor’s fleet. To Sean’s right lounged Donald Thomas, the crime syndicate’s Production Manager. And across from him sat Anthony Blandini the man in charge of all of the Warehouses and Inventory. Gregor’s personal secretary, Jeff Chandler
and Patricia Grey, the Information and communication specialist stood, waiting for their coffee to finish brewing.

  “Gentlemen, Ladies, everything ready?”

  All heads nodded as everyone responded affirmatively.

  “Families on board? Getting settled in? We’ve got two months in our travelling home before we get to Sanctuary. Anything we’ve missed?”

  This time everyone replied in the negative.

  “Patricia, is everything uploaded?”

  “Yes, Mr. Gregor.”

  “Good. Have you activated the destruct sequences?”

  “No, sir. I was waiting for the command. But it’s all ready. Everything checked out.”

  “Thank you, Patricia. Let’s wait until we clear the atmosphere before we set it off. I don’t want any mistakes.

  “Just let me know, sir.” I’m heading for the communication chair now. I want to recheck and retest all of the circuitry one last time.”

  “Again, thank you, Patricia. I really appreciate your attention to detail. Thank you all. I know this is hard. I know it is hard to leave your homes, your life. But if we don’t, it’s prison and hardship. I know you don’t know anything about Sanctuary. But I promise you all, we will be able to build a new life, one as good as this one. Different, but as good. You have my word.”

  Lawrence Gregor paused while he perused his team, getting a read on where each one stood.

  “Jean, is Gazelle ready?”

  “Yes, sir. I’ve already run the pre-flight checks and everything came up green. We’re ready to launch.”

  “Donald, everything stowed and anchored?”

  “Stowed, anchored and double checked, boss. As soon as we are done here I’m going to walk all of the living quarters and make sure everything is tied down. Give me thirty minutes. Then I’ll be ready.”

  “Tony, go with him. Help to make sure everyone is strapped into their pressure bags, with helmets on. Cut the check time to fifteen.”

  Again, Lawrence Gregor, the very successful crime boss, looked over his lieutenants.