Reckless Faith VII, Prologue

Spoiler alert: This is the beginning of the 7th book in the Reckless Faith series

December 25^th, 2029

Though the Percheron was a fine ship by any standard, Captain Cynthia Dietrich was particularly proud of it, as it was Earth’s first official spacecraft capable of interstellar travel. She stood on the bridge, a bright, clean space at the bow of the ship. Its sweeping canopy allowed for a great view of space, and at the moment, Saturn, around which they were in orbit. The ship had just undergone the first test of its FTL drive system, traveling from Earth to the ringed planet in mere seconds. This was a satisfying conclusion to two weeks of shakedown after the Percheron had been launched.

Present with her on the bridge, in addition to her own command staff, were several crewmembers of the Reckless Faith, including its commander, John Scherer. They were, of course, mostly to credit for the Percheron’s existence, though it couldn’t have been constructed so quickly without the assistance of both NASA and the US Space Force. Indeed, both organizations were represented in its crew, with Dietrich herself a colonel in the Space Force prior to accepting command of the vessel.

The Percheron was essentially a carbon-copy of the Reckless Faith, though it was 50% larger, and boasted more weaponry. The number of crew quarters had been increased from six to fourteen, and in addition to more cargo capacity, it also had a full medical bay. The two fifty-caliber GAU 19/A turrets on the Faith had been supplanted by four twenty-millimeter GAU 4/A turrets, though their massive size made them slower to traverse and elevate, and it shared the same GAU 8/A thirty-millimeter cannon, plasma cannon, and laser banks of the Faith installed for the same applications. A new addition to the Percheron was a partially-articulated GAU 13/A installed aft, a four-barrel version of the GAU 8/A, as well as a small shuttle, capable of carrying fourteen people.

Though it shared the same defensive systems as the Faith, and would have made a formidable warship compared to what they had encountered out in the galaxy, its top speed was limited to 2500 c by its Cooper fusion engine, fueled by uranium hexafluoride, much slower than its predecessor. Because of this, it would take them a little over twelve days to reach the destination of their first mission, Sadal Biham, also known as Theta Pegasi, at a distance from earth of about 92 light-years. The drive might be upgraded someday to an Umberian design like the Faith, fueled by a particular meta-state of neptunium, if they ever encountered enough of the rare material to do so. For now, once they got where they were going, it would be plenty fast for their purposes.

The crew was just as impressive as the ship itself. Captain Dietrich was the first to be selected, then she was given final say with choices for the other thirteen members. One hundred and fifty people were involved with the Percheron project, and most of them wanted a slot, so it was difficult for her to choose. Three of the selections were a bit easier, as Scherer had insisted that any ship accompanying them anywhere had to have at least that number of skilled warriors on board. Even then, there were twenty applicants from the Space Force with significant combat training. Chance Richter had helped her choose three.

The other ten were a combination of engineers, astrophysicists, pilots, scientists, and medics, with five from the Space Force and five from NASA. The latter group had been granted military rank to more efficiently integrate them with the command structure of the ship, though all but one had simply been made 2^nd lieutenants. Only the most experienced engineer had been granted a higher rank, major, so he could better manage the other engineers, and always have a seat at the captain’s table.

In addition to the ship’s construction and extensive testing of its systems, the new crew was also required to spend dozens of hours reviewing mission logs and on-board footage of the Faith’s many adventures. It served to illustrate quite well what the Percheron’s crew was signing up for, but it didn’t result in anyone giving up their slot, despite how dangerous several of those missions proved to be. Dietrich and the other pilots had also been given several hours of flight training through the use of the Faith’s orb simulations, though no one could be sure that they had managed to accurately approximate the handling characteristics of the Percheron until the ship was actually constructed. Fortunately, Christie Tolliver had gotten it mostly right, and the gleeful destruction of scores of innocent asteroids as gunnery practice proved it.

Another thing that set the Percheron apart from the Faith was the passive orb that was the brain and nerve center of the ship. Though Christie could interface with it, she wouldn’t be present the vast majority of the time, and the crew could only monitor and interpret systems with computer consoles and their Mark I eyeballs. Still, should the Percheron survive a particularly damaging engagement, Christie could visit to more effectively diagnose and manage repairs. They could theoretically purchase another android body like hers, for the same purpose, but it wouldn’t be of much use without a human soul to occupy it. So far, no one had volunteered for that task. As it happened, Christie was on board at the moment, down in the orb room, to assist with final checks.

Declaring the Percheron to be fully operational would have been one hell of a Christmas present for Dietrich, but there was still one more test to be run. She spoke to Lieutenant Brody, her navigational officer, a younger woman seated to her right.

“Brody, set a course for Proxima Centauri, maximum velocity.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Brody replied.

Though the FTL drive had functioned perfectly for their quick hop to Saturn, it had also been decided that running it at full speed for longer would be wise. The trip to Proxima Centauri, 4.2 light-years distant, would take just under fifteen hours, and hopefully prove with near certainty that the ship was capable of reaching Theta Pegasi. They would pause after eight hours, however, to double-check everything and allow the visitors from the Faith to return to their own ship.

Lieutenant Latoria, one of their pilots, was at the flight controls. He maneuvered the ship until the bow was pointed at the star they wanted.

“Activate,” said Dietrich.

All other frames of reference disappeared almost immediately as Latoria pushed the throttle lever forward, and a moment later, the FTL drive kicked in. Contrary to what science fiction TV shows and movies had showed them, traveling even at their top speed was almost imperceptible. Akin to watching sunlight slowly creep across a surface, the stars appeared motionless unless one watched them for a while. However, if there was no other clue that they were traveling faster than light, the stars ahead of them became slightly bluer, and the stars behind redder.

“The Reckless Faith is pacing us,” said Brody. “All systems are still in the green.”

Christie’s voice filled the bridge. “This is Tolliver. Everything looks good down here. I’m returning to the bridge.”

“Copy that, thank you,” said Dietrich.

Present from the Faith, in addition to Commander Scherer, were Dana Andrews, Ray Bailey, and Evangeline Adeler. When Christie returned from below, John spoke.

“It’s about lunchtime for both our ships,” he began. “Why don’t we take a break?”

“Sounds good. Brody, you have the bridge. I’ll relieve you for your meal break in thirty minutes.”

“Roger that, ma’am,” said Brody.

Dietrich and the Faith’s representatives exited the bridge to the central corridor, then took the stairs to the galley. As with the rest of the ship, this space was 50% larger than its counterpart on the Faith, and featured better appliances. Already present and having lunch were Lieutenants Mintaka, Al-Nilam, and Zeta, two men and one woman, who were the Percheron’s security detail and weapons experts. They gave each other cursory greetings, and the captain’s group chose a table. Dietrich walked over to the food prep area and gave her guests a list of options. They settled on sandwiches for simplicity’s sake, and Dana helped her make them. Once they were seated, Dietrich spoke to Christie.

“Miss Tolliver, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you about, we’ve just been so busy with the project I never found the chance. If it’s too personal, feel free to decline answering.”

“If you’re asking me in front of everyone,” she replied, “how personal can it be?”

“I read the reports on Byron Sterling’s death, and his subsequent appearance as a sentient being in the Faith’s orb, as well as what happened to you shortly thereafter. I assume the reports are still current, correct?”

“I reviewed all our files before sharing them with NASA, and yes, you can consider that report current.”

“Then pardon me if this is a stupid question, but you still have no idea how your minds, or soul if you believe that sort of thing, ended up pulled into the orb upon the loss of your physical bodies?”

“No, and believe me, I wish we did. Consider the implications for humanity if we were able to figure out how to make it happen. The only thing we were able to guess with near certainty is that one must have been in physical contact with the orb at some point previously in order to be integrated with it. There were others who died on board the Faith, or in close proximity to it, during the time that the orb didn’t have a sentient presence, and they weren’t grabbed by it. But they never interfaced with it like Sterling and I did.”

“So, if say Lieutenant Mintaka over there gets his head blown off defending the ship from space pirates, there’s a chance he’ll end up inside our orb?”

“Wow,” said Mintaka.

Christie shrugged. “Maybe. Who knows? Orb mechanics, neptunium, the true nature of the Kira-To, there are a lot of things that we’ve encountered in our travels that defy explanation. Hopefully we’ll figure things out, or somebody smarter than us will.”

“I’m pretty sure the smartest people on the planet are on our two ships,” said Dietrich.

“Then we’ll have to ask the galaxy for help,” said John. “It’s worked for us so far.”

__________

Faen Leodin slammed her fist against the bulkhead, and took a deep breath. The computer station mounted on the wall had just informed her that she was the only person left alive on the Valorous. She was already terrified, having seen all of the engineering section murdered, and learning that the same fate had befallen the rest of the crew was almost too much for her to handle. She managed to retain enough of her wits to come to terms with her choices: she must make it to an escape pod, or resign herself to hiding in that storage closet for who knew how long. Neither choice was particularly better than the other, but it was the possibility of their enemy destroying the ship that made the decision for her.

In her left hand she clutched a pistol, and though it provided her the only comfort of her situation, she let it fall to the floor. The weapon had proved useless against their foes, and she’d borne witness to her hapless colleagues proving it with their last breaths. Though others on the ship had access to more powerful weapons, the cold, emotionless display on the monitor showed her how helpful they must have been. Her only hope was to avoid the aliens completely on her way to a pod.

The aliens had never been encountered by the Rakhar or any of their allies, of that she was certain. Vaguely resembling floating, translucent stingrays, they seemed to be out of phase with reality, moving silently with both beautiful and horrific grace, sometimes even passing through bulkheads as they swept through the ship. Bearing no clothing or weapons that she could see, their form of attack was an instantaneous lightning bolt that was capable of killing unarmored people with as few as one hit. If the security detail on the ship, with their power armor, fared any better, she hadn’t seen it. Their own energy weapons, and blades, passed right through them. They were unstoppable.

Faen considered the irony of her situation. She was a Rakh-Rii, half-Rakhar and half Kau-Rii, considered a freak by both, and didn’t hold the same status among the Rakhar as the rest of them. Her role on the ship was little more than indentured servitude, and she was assigned only the most menial tasks. In a way, she didn’t blame them. The odds of a Rakhar and Kau-Rii producing offspring was a million-to-one; by the opinion of many, she shouldn’t even exist. For centuries, if a child wasn’t aborted, or stillborn, it was simply killed. But now, as the sole survivor of the Valorous, if she could save the ship, perhaps her kind would be seen more favorably. Unfortunately, such a thing seemed impossible. Even if she could get to the bridge, what could she do? She already knew the ship’s propulsion system was heavily damaged. No, she had to focus on saving her own skin.

There was one crucial bit of information she had learned that made escape possible. During the fighting, she had witnessed an engineer attempt to hide behind a corner. Standing motionless, and barely breathing, he was not detected when an alien passed right by him. It was only when he made a break for it that he was cut down.

Steeling herself to the task, she first accessed the override function for the door, and switched it to manual mode. With a soft click, the door unlocked, but didn’t open. That allowed her to slowly and silently slide it open. Peeking out into the corridor, she immediately spotted an alien. It was hovering at an intersection of hallways, motionless, its intentions inscrutable. Faen at first held her breath, then tried to breathe as slowly as she could. After a few maddening minutes, the creature moved on and out of sight. Luckily, she wanted to go in the opposite direction, and slipped out into the corridor.

The Valorous had been in a tough fight, that much she knew. She did not know, however, where they were or what their mission had been. Even her colleagues who showed her basic politeness hadn’t shared anything with her, nor did she expect them to. The engineering section, buried deep in the bowels of the ship, hadn’t received much damage that was visible to her. Other than red flashing lights mounted to the ceiling, the failure of main power, and the bodies of the dead, everything looked mostly normal. She had to make it down one deck and to the port side hull to get to the nearest escape pod, a mercifully short trip. After she weaved her way through dim corridors, she made it to the stairwell she wanted without another encounter. Here, she found the door locked, and the controls offline. Cursing, she instead tried the lift on the opposite side of the hallway. It was working, and a fresh wave of adrenaline hit her chest at the noise it created as the car arrived. The doors slid open, and she found herself nose-to-nose with an alien.

Faen froze, stricken with a terror deeper than anything she could have imagined. At this distance, the being was still translucent, and she could see the back of the lift in distorted lines through its body. It moved slightly, then just hung there, as if staring at her with unseen eyes. She resolved herself that her mission had failed, and waited for the end. The creature moved one of its wing-like appendages, and the limb passed right through her head. Euphoria washed over her, along with the curious feeling that she had just completed a lengthy and exhausting job interview. She blinked, and the alien was gone.

Still feeling like she had just injected pure opiates directly into her veins, she stepped into the lift and pressed the button for deck five. After the car arrived, she headed toward the bank of escape pods in a daze. As the euphoric sensation faded, her fear returned, though much less intense. A thousand answers to random questions filled her mind, and she had to push past them to focus on checking the first pod. It was functional, so she got in. With room for four people, and provisions to match, she would be able to survive for four months out there, assuming the aliens didn’t get her first. With a top speed of 0.1 c, rescue was her only hope. Even if there was a planet nearby, she would not go there, as she couldn’t risk it being the homeworld of the aliens.

As the pod pushed itself away from the Valorous, she checked the navigation system. There was indeed a planet not far from there, but the pod’s rudimentary scanners revealed little else. After some poking around, she learned that the pod was supposed to be synced to its host’s SRC transceiver, but for some reason that hadn’t happened in days. So, Faen had no idea where she was. There were no windows in the aft section of the pod, so she couldn’t see the Valorous or any ships that might be pursuing her, only adding to her anxiety. She busied herself with taking inventory of the provisions and medical supplies, and eventually noticed that an hour had passed. Though she was probably safe, she decided not to activate the distress beacon just yet.

Suddenly feeling extremely fatigued, she found a blanket and tucked herself into the pilot chair. As traumatic as her experience had been, she would shed no tears for the crew of the Valorous, and sleep came to her quickly.

Continue to Chapter One:

https://devonai.wordpress.com/2022/12/28/reckless-faith-vii-chapter-one/