Starhold

  STARHOLD

  By J. Alan Field

  Copyright © 2014 J. Alan Field

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the author.

  ISBN: 978-0-9908493-0-8

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, entities, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover by Yvonne Less

  www.diversepixel.com

  Contents

  Prologue

  1: Frayed

  2: Clash

  3: Centroplex

  4: Gardener

  5: Currents

  6: Encounters

  7: Destiny

  8: Mirror

  9: Hunger

  10: Warrior

  11: Stroll

  12: Game

  13: Shadow

  14: Edge

  15: Threshold

  16: Passion

  17: Masks

  18: Hammers

  19: Dusk

  20: Survivors

  21: Valkyrie

  22: Jump

  23: Truth

  24: Fiction

  25: Discord

  26: Daze

  27: Susan

  28: Gift

  29: Attack!

  30: Challenge

  31: Titles

  32: Aftermath

  33: Three months…

  Epilogue

  For Your Consideration

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Many thanks to Amy Brooks, Chris Clausell, Shawn Cockrell, Kris Knowles, and Timothy White for their suggestions, help, and moral support during the writing of this book.

  Special thanks to

  Adam Horne and Lenae O’Dell

  for their assistance.

  For my brother, Zane Grey Field.

  Starhold noun

  An area of space, including planets and star systems, which is controlled by its own

  government; a star-nation.

  Prologue

  “Not good. This is not good,” moaned Soames to no one in particular.

  “Really, Soames? What gave it away? Was it the hyperdrive failure or the fact that we’re light-years from just about anywhere?” said Dandi Quinn, pilot of the gas-mining vessel Theodora as she struggled to make the ship’s controls respond. Quinn was a good shipdriver—not the best, but better than most. She needed all of her skill and concentration right now and the distraction of Soames was not helping.

  “C’mon, Dandi. I know it’s not your fault, but I’m just asking how we’re doin,’” the hulking crewman whined.

  The pilot’s hands raced over the control panel as she tried to stabilize the transition from hyperspace into realspace. “You’re distracting me, Soames. I swear if you say one more word, it might be your last,” she said, her eyes flashing daggers his way.

  “Humph! Redheads! So angry all the time.”

  A diminutive woman stepped behind the pilot’s station. “Both of you stop it. Soames, you go to the engine room and see if Big Paul needs any help—now!” Misaki Genda seemed only half the size of the large man, but her tone left no doubt as to who was in charge. Soames gathered his fear and retreated toward one of the bridge hatchways. Genda turned her back on him to peer over the pilot’s shoulder, trying to make sense of what was happening. “Dandi, how are we doing?” she asked in a low voice.

  Pausing to check her readings, Quinn took what seemed like her first breath in minutes. “Well, Skipper, we’ve translated into the nearest star system, and the hyperdrive has been disengaged. For the moment, we’re all right.” Genda thought her pilot looked ashen, but she was naturally pale-skinned so it was hard to tell how shaken she really was.

  “Good job, Dandi, a very good job. We need to check in with engineering and see what Big Paul can tell us. What system are we in?”

  “Sol. We’re in the Sol system.” There was a small but audible gasp from the few crewmembers on the bridge. “Sorry, but beggars can’t be choosers. It was drop out in deep space and maybe be stranded there until we die, or take the nearest star system where we might have a fighting chance to survive. The nearest system was Sol.”

  A familiar voice broke the silence. “But, Skipper—Sol. We can’t stay here, this system’s off limits. We could get in big trouble,” declared Soames from his position in the hatchway.

  Genda frowned at the man. “I’d say adrift in the emptiness between the stars would have been big trouble too, Soames. We’re lucky to be anywhere. All right everyone, we need a damage assessment.”

  “Thought you’d be happy, Soames,” said Quinn as she dabbed perspiration from her forehead with her right sleeve. “You’re home—Earth. That is where apes came from, isn’t it?”

  The tension on the bridge broke for an instant as the crew snickered and even Genda had to smile. “Soames—engineering—now!” she snapped at her crewman.

  The big man scowled as he moved through the hatchway. “It’s just like I said, this is NOT good,” he muttered, retreating slowly down the passageway.

  Soames was right. Access to Sol and all its worlds was forbidden to everyone. Earth, humanity’s birthplace and the cradle of civilization, was the world that had been home to humans for thousands of years, until they’d polluted it past habitability and beyond restoration. Then came the Diaspora of Humankind, and the last survivors left the Blue Planet in the year 2272.

  Humanity fled to the stars and established homes on dozens of worlds. New star-nations, the so-called ‘starholds’ were formed. Fresh rivalries and conflicts arose, but there was one thing upon which everyone could agree—Earth, our poisoned and scarred homeworld, was to be left alone. The Sol star system was declared off limits. As the years went by, the human race expanded away from its point of origin. Sol became an almost forgotten backwater, so much so that even the scavengers had stopped going there. The year was now 2568 CE.

  As Dandi Quinn got a fix on their exact position within the solar system, Captain Genda used the intraship audio-link to call engineering for a status report. Shortly, she heard a young voice on the bridge speaker. “Grandfather is busy right now, but he said to tell you there was a rupture in the number three hyperdrive fuel line,” reported Little Paul Schwall. His grandfather, Big Paul Schwall, was Theodora’s chief engineer and Little Paul was the engineering crew—the entire engineering crew. “Grandfather says he can fix the line, but we’ve vented a lot of fuel. We’ll need more hydrogen to get the hyperdrive engines back up and running.”

  Genda shot Quinn an inquiring look. “Can do, Skipper,” the young pilot responded. “Luckily, your fantastic pilot was able to place us not too far from a gas giant in this system.” As she manipulated some controls, a holographic image jumped from the bridge navigation station. “We’re here,” Quinn pointed from her seat, “and that big bad boy over there is called Jupiter. Should take about six hours to reach on I-drive. Once we’re there, we can deploy the ramscoop and fill up, and then Alex and his team can process the hydrogen into enough fuel for the trip back home. It won’t be pure, but it should do the job. We’re lucky this is a gas miner, otherwise we’d be screwed.”

  The captain spoke to engineering. “You guys hear that? Big Paul, what do you think?”

  After a few moments of distant conversation on the other end of the audio-link, Little Paul’s voice returned to the speaker. “Grandfather says it sounds good.”

  Nineteen-year-old Paul Schwall had joined the Theodora crew a year ago and quickly endeared himself to everyone. A hard worker, the boy was eager to learn and always seemed to have a happy expression on h
is face. Listening to his young voice on the speaker however, Genda couldn’t help but wish he wasn’t on board the ship. This kid shouldn’t be here, he’s way too young to be stuck in this mess.

  “OK, engineering. If you need anything, let us know. Soames should be down shortly to give you a hand. Bridge out.”

  Genda considered their situation, pacing the length of the bridge and back. “Dandi, we need to send out a distress signal.”

  “You really think that’s wise? I mean, we’re not even supposed to be here. We could all get put in prison if the wrong people picked us up.”

  “And we could all die if the two Pauls don’t get the problem fixed. Look, I know its Sol and that’s creeping people out, but we need to play it safe.” Genda turned to another member of the crew. “Horace, start broadcasting a distress beacon.”

  “Skipper,” Quinn piped up, her face clearly troubled. “Even if we send out a distress signal, it’ll probably take weeks to reach the nearest ship.” FTL communication was fast, but speed was relative in space. Without transmitting through a hypergate, even the fastest comm signals took weeks or months to travel between star systems.

  “We could get lucky, maybe a passing freighter will pick it up,” Genda said. “We probably won’t even need rescuing, but I’d like to have some insurance just in case. We’ll be fine, you’ll see.” She patted her pilot on the back, trying to reassure Quinn. Genda gave her one final look of encouragement but found the whole exchange unsettling. Dandi didn’t usually rattle like this.

  The captain went on the shipwide speaker to let her crew know their status and explain the plan to get back into hyperspace and home. The Theodora was owned jointly by Misaki Genda and Big Paul Schwall. Named after Big Paul’s late wife, it was the pride of their fleet, seeing as it was the only vessel in their fleet. The agreement had been that Big Paul would take care of the ship and Misaki would handle the business. Truth be told, she was a much better entrepreneur than spaceship captain. Until now, she’d never needed to do much as captain, except find profitable locations to mine, and customers for the goods. Big Paul and Dandi oversaw the majority of ship operations and most of the crew of eighteen had been with them from the beginning. These people need a real captain, not an accountant.

  Trying to shake her suddenly gloomy mood, Genda left the bridge to do the two things many space travelers did when they had large chunks of time to kill: eat and sleep. The trip to Jupiter would take six hours on ion drive, the engines used to travel within a star system. Also known as I-drive, most spacers called it ‘crawldrive.’ Ion thrusters were pushing the ship along at thousands of miles per second, but that was slow compared to the hyperdrive speeds used to travel between the stars.

  There was no use sitting in the captain’s chair for six hours with absolutely nothing to do, so she visited the galley for a bowl of soup, and then got hooked into playing several hands of Apulan spades with some of the crew. From there, she went to her cabin for a nap. About forty minutes into her slumber, the intercom chime awakened her.

  “Misaki here.”

  “Skipper, I need you on the bridge,” said the anxious voice of Dandi Quinn.

  Genda searched around for a timepiece. “Wait, what?” she asked, trying to pull herself into consciousness. “We can’t be there yet. What’s going on?”

  “Need to show you something—now.”

  Genda was still trying to wake up when she arrived on the bridge, thinking that she would kill for a cup of coffee. Dandi and another member of the crew, Horace Adair, were engaged in a lively discussion. It didn’t seem like a fight, but it certainly was animated. Adair was a muscular, handsome man with a youthful face and thick, sandy blond hair. He and Quinn had been having an on-again, off-again relationship for about a year now. They thought nobody knew, but it was difficult to keep secrets living in a tin can with eighteen people—especially romantic secrets.

  “Not possible,” Adair was saying. “All that coffee you’ve been drinkin’ is eatin’ away your brain. There’s just no way these readings could be right.”

  Quinn was having none of it. “Look, Horace, this is a military grade scanner. We got it from that Pontian frigate about three months ago and I’ve been dying to try it out.”

  “Well then, Red, you didn’t install it right or something. Have you run a diagnostic?”

  “Twice. It’s good to go and these readings are correct!”

  “What readings?” Genda inquired as she wandered over to the dispute.

  Quinn glanced around with a look of relief, as if reinforcements had arrived, but Adair scoffed. “Dandi’s seeing things, Skipper, or maybe tryin’ to play a practical joke on us,” he smirked, squeezing the pilot’s shoulder. “Or maybe someone’s playin’ a joke on her. Go ahead, tell her, but she’s not gonna believe you either. In the meantime, I’m gonna grab me some sack time. Later!” Adair moved off with a big grin on his face, turning his head to add in a mocking, singsong voice “Someone’s foolin’ someone!”

  Quinn closed her eyes, perhaps mentally counting to ten. After Adair had departed the bridge she mumbled, “Gods, I hate that man.”

  “Yeah, sure you do. Now, what’s this all about?” asked Genda, and then added in a louder voice to no one in particular, “Could someone be the best crewmember ever and bring me a cup of coffee?”

  Quinn fiddled with some instrument settings and started into her story. “Remember several months ago we helped out that stranded Pontian frigate in the Roycroft system?”

  “Yeah, yeah, the one with the cute captain.”

  “Well, you thought he was cute. Anyway, remember they offered to barter for the equipment they needed. One of the things I grabbed when Big Paul and I were looking over their barter list was a military grade scanner. They didn’t want to part with it, but they needed our help and I insisted.”

  “So in the down time on our way to this gas giant, you decided to hook it up and play with your new toy, right?” Misaki’s mood lighted as a passing crewman handed her a fresh mug of coffee.

  “Right, and check this out.” Quinn pulled up several items on the display board, and those images almost caused Genda to choke on her first sip of java.

  “What the hell?” the captain said in a low voice as she stared at the screen. “Is that… Is that—Earth?” The newly installed scanner was projecting images from the neighborhood of humanity’s homeworld. In a region where there should have been nothing but a dead and abandoned planet, sensors were showing a hive of activity. Ships were shuttling to and fro, satellites were orbiting the planet, dozens of icons flickered about the screen.

  Genda reached beyond Quinn to touch the control panel and the display changed to different versions of the same information. The captain tried to speak and found it difficult to push out the first few words. “And you’ve…”

  “…checked and double checked, yes. It’s all there and it’s all real.”

  Genda walked over to her captain’s chair and slowly sat down, trying to let it all sink in. The only other people on the bridge, Jon Hixon and Junko Kurogane, said nothing. They seemed to be waiting for their captain’s reaction before deciding what to make of it all.

  “Pirates?” Misaki asked aloud to anyone who might respond.

  Quinn swiveled in her chair to face the others. “Could be, but I don’t think so. Whatever these engine signatures are, they’re not ion drives. I’ve never seen readings like this before. Usually pirates have older ships that give off familiar sigs, but I don’t know what these are.”

  “Maybe it’s some sort of experimental Gerrhan base,” Hixon offered.

  Genda shook her head. “I doubt it. The Gerrhans are bold, but are they bold enough to violate Earth space and break the Quarantine Treaty? I don’t see it.”

  “Aliens.” Kurogane spoke the word as if she were invoking a forbidden incantation. Humans had been traversing the stars for the better part of five centuries now and they had never come across non-human sentient life. Many were begin
ning to believe it simply didn’t exist. Others held the view that humanity had only explored a fraction of the galaxy so far and that it was just a matter of time until we met a spacefaring alien species.

  “You mean aliens like the ones we’ve never encountered before?”

  “Never encountered yet,” put in Hixon. “Captain, whatever’s going on, we have to put this data into a signal and beam it out to, well, someone. The authorities need to know something’s going on at Earth.”

  Quinn spoke up. “Then I suggest we download all the data into a tachyon packet and send it to the nearest Sarissan Union system, which would be Hybrias. If we broad beam it, it could be picked up by anyone—the Gerrhans, or…” Quinn stopped as it hit her.

  Genda realized it at the same time. “Damn! The distress signal! Whoever these people are, they know we’re here. We’ve been chirping that distress beacon for like, what? Three hours now?”

  An alarm cried out and Quinn reacted quickly. “Gods, we’ve got two ships coming up on our six, and they’re coming fast! I’ve been so busy with that stupid scanner that I… Sorry, Skipper,” her voice trailed off.

  Genda tried to soak in all that was happening. “Concentrate, Dandi, we need you sharp. How fast are they? Can we outrun them?”

  “Not a chance. At the speed they’re coming, I estimate they’ll overtake us long before we make it to Jupiter. Maybe in about thirty-five minutes or so. I don’t recognize these silhouettes, and I’ve never seen ships travel this fast, not even with military grade engines.”

  Misaki Genda tried to focus. These people needed their captain—a real captain, not an accountant. I need to make a decision, to give an order, to do something. Don’t freeze up. Think dammit, think! What would a REAL captain do?

  The mistress of the Theodora wheeled in her chair and began barking orders. “Jon, get on communications and hail those ships. Tell them who and what we are and that we’re in need of assistance. Dandi, you and Junko gather up all the data your scanners collected on Earth, on those ships, on everything. Prepare a TachPac for the military station at Hybrias.”