Galactic Frontiers: A Collection of Space Opera and Military Science Fiction Stories
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Story Synopses
Lori’s War (CJ Carella)
Rift (Amy DuBoff)
Battle Beyond Earth: Liberty (Nick S. Thomas)
Retreat: A Pike Chronicles Short Story (G.P. Hudson)
Daughters of Ayor (David R. Bernstein)
Bloodbag Suppressors (Justin Sloan)
Crash Landing (Ken Lozito)
The Teardrop that became a Torrent (Rachel Aukes)
The Forever Family (J.N. Chaney)
Space Cadets (HJ Lawson)
The Embrose Contract (C.C. Ekeke)
The Trenches of Centauri Prime (Craig Martelle)
Plenty (Jenetta Penner)
Planetstrider (Chris Fox)
Tombstone (Jay Allan)
Last Survivors (Michael G. Thomas)
Acknowledgements
Edited by C.C. Ekeke
Galactic Frontiers
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any form or means without the written prior permission of the copyright holders listed below, except in the case of brief excerpts in critical reviews or articles.
The stories in this book are fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead is purelu coincidental.
All Rights Reserved.
“Galactic Frontiers” copyright © 2017 by C.C. Ekeke
“Lori’s War” copyright © 2017 by CJ Carella. Used by pemission of the author.
“Space Cadets” copyright © 2017 by HJ Lawson. Used by pemission of the author.
“Battle Beyond Earth: Liberty” copyright © 2017 by Nick S. Thomas. Used by pemission of the author.
“Retreat: A Pike Chronicles Short Story” copyright © 2017 by G.P. Hudson. Used by pemission of the author.
“Daughters of Ayor” copyright © 2017 by David R. Bernstein. Used by pemission of the author.
“Bloodbag Suppressors” copyright © 2017 by Justin Sloan. Used by pemission of the author.
“Crash Landing” copyright © 2017 by Ken Lozito. Used by pemission of the author.
“The Teardrop that became a Torrent” copyright © 2017 by Rachel Aukes. Used by pemission of the author.
“The Forever Family” copyright © 2017 by J.N. Chaney. Used by pemission of the author.
“Rift” copyright © 2017 by Amy DuBoff. Used by pemission of the author.
“The Embrose Contract” copyright © 2017 by C.C. Ekeke
“The Trenches of Centauri Prime” copyright © 2017 by Craig Martelle. Used by pemission of the author.
“Plenty” copyright © 2017 by Jenetta Penner. Used by pemission of the author.
“Planetstrider” copyright © by 2017 Chris Fox. Used by pemission of the author
“Tombstone” copyright © 2012 by Jay Allan. Used by pemission of the author.
“Last Survivors” copyright © 2017 Michael G. Thomas. Used by pemission of the author.
All other text copyright © 2017 C.C. Ekeke
Cover Art Design © 2017 Jeff Brown jeffbrowngraphics.com
STORY SYNOPSES
Lori’s War (CJ Carella)
When alien raiders attack a small town on a planetary backwater, it’s up to a traumatized teenage girl and the town drunk – a scarred veteran – to stop them.
Rift (Amy DuBoff)
When Leanna is assigned to negotiate peace with an alien race, she knows something is amiss. But with the future of the Taran empire on the line, she must do everything she can to prevent a galactic war.
Battle Beyond Earth: Liberty (Nick S. Thomas)
When the secretive Liberty space station comes under attack, a recovering war hero is asked to risk everything to save one of his own trapped on board.
Retreat: A Pike Chronicles Short Story (G.P. Hudson)
Earth has fallen, and for the last twenty-five years, the crew of the Invincible has been running for their lives. Will a chance discovery in a remote star system hold the answer to their many problems, or will it turn into the catalyst that finally destroys them?
Daughters of Ayor (David R. Bernstein)
Officer Morrow is alone on an Irradiated salvation vessel with limited access and dwindling rations. The only thing that can make this worse is when an unknown signal pings his ship and he has no way to stop what comes next.
Bloodbag Suppressors (Justin Sloan)
A young Marine wants more than anything to go fight “goldies,” a hostile alien race. To do so he aimsto join the best of the best—an elite squad made up of vampires, the only race able to truly damage the enemy.
Crash Landing (Ken Lozito)
Before Kladomaor became the legendary Battle Commander of the Boxan fleet he witnessed the darkest betrayal in his race’s history that plunged them into an interstellar war.
The Teardrop that became a Torrent (Rachel Aukes)
Critch’s origin story in the Fringe canon. The captain of the Honorless was once known as the infamous Marshal Drake Fender. Experience the pivotal day that led Drake to Aramis Reyne and the Uprising.
The Forever Family (J.N. Chaney)
A little boy who can fly unaided through outer space. A father with unlimited omnipotence. See what it means to be a family of gods…and then discover the cost.
Space Cadets (HJ Lawson)
A young pilot’s career has peaked at eighteen, going from the pilot of her very own spaceship to the chief cleaner on the mothership. Just for one mistake, how could she know the aliens’ blood was gasoline?
The Embrose Contract (C.C. Ekeke)
Two female bounty hunters are on the hunt for one of the most wanted space pirates in Lawless Space. But with a payday this huge for a target this infamous, deadly complications are bound to arise.
The Trenches of Centauri Prime (Craig Martelle)
Standing in the mud of the trenches, alien or human, we may not be so different after all.
Plenty (Jenetta Penner)
A young galactic black marker trader’s ship breaks down a day out from his destination (again). Lucky for him a beautiful young girl and her father on nearby space station offer to help.
Planetstrider (Chris Fox)
Legions are burned to ash. Mechs are torn apart like toys. Their cannons are powerful enough to destroy dreadnaughts in orbit. Now the Vkash clan has brought three of those beasts to a remote, worthless world, and a disgraced warrior will do anything to find out why--and anything to stop them.
Tombstone (Jay Allan)
Darius Jax is a senior officer and hero of the Marine Corps, veteran of countless battles fought throughout occupied space. But once he was a raw private fighting his first battle on a planet so deadly, so hellish, its own occupants called it Tombstone. This is his story, before fame, before glory.
Last Survivors (Michael G. Thomas)
Kirya travels to the distant planet Agora on the interplanetary liner, Starlighter. When ruthless killers board the ship, she’s forced to make a fateful choice. Flee with the other passengers, or fight back? And Kirya never backs down from a fight.
Lori’s War
By C.J. Carella
Bad things can happen fast. Lori Kinston knew that before the raiders attacked Salvation.
One eyeblink, one loud noise, that was all it took. She could still see the moment her father died, six months ago, as she stood over his headstone on Boot Hill, Salvation’s only cemetery. She saw
it every few nights in her sleep. At first, it’d been every night.
He’d been smiling at her one second, and laid up on the ground the next, the sound of the air compressor explosion echoing in her ears. One eyeblink, one loud noise. That was all it took to change the world forever.
Lori looked at the stone slab and the words carved on it. ‘Walter Martin Kinston. 131-166 AFC Beloved Husband and Father. Forever in our hearts.’ She wanted to cry but had no tears left, only a cold empty feeling that she feared might last forever; that instead of having her father in her heart, all she would feel from now on was hollow and alone. She looked at the place where they’d buried Daddy, and wished she could cry.
It was an hour before the school session she had skipped was over, and most adults were at work. The only other person on Boot Hill was the town drunk, Mr. Jacobs, looking at a weathered headstone not too far away. Old Mr. Jacobs, who all her life had done little more than drink to excess and go on occasional rants during town meetings. He was a scrawny, grizzled man with rawhide-rough skin and squinting angry eyes; he kept his sparse gray hair cropped short but only shaved a few times a month. He looked older than most people his age because he spent most of his military pension on booze instead of rejuvenation treatments like normal people.
She only knew him because in Salvation you got to know everybody. There were two hundred and ninety-eight people all told, and everyone without pressing duties showed up to church every Sunday, except for Mr. Jacobs, who maybe attended services once every other month, looking sick and wrung-out every time. Her father had explained to her the man wasn’t sick, but ‘hung-over, or still drunk, more’s the shame.’ The town gossips said he’d left the town at age sixteen, done his Obligatory Service and joined the Warp Marines. He’d come back fifty years later, with a full twenty-five-year pension and no desire to do anything other than drink his days away.
They said he still had another five or six years left before the pension ran out. They said he’d become a drunk because of all the terrible things he did in the Marines. They also said he’d come back for an old sweetheart, only to learn she was dead, and that was why he’d become a drunk. And they also said he’d always been a miscreant, a drunk and a waste of oxygen, and that the Marines hadn’t quite beaten his bad habits out of him. The stories changed, depending on who ‘they’ were, on who saw the oldster walking stiffly down the street on his way to the bar, and who felt the need to talk about him. Lori minded the gossip about as much as she cared about it.
The old man saw her come up the hill but ignored her; his eyes were on the headstone he’d come to visit, and whoever was buried there. Lori wondered if he also felt empty inside, or if he still had tears to shed for the dead. He was saying something, but she couldn’t make out the words. Maybe he was praying, although she doubted it. After one last sidelong glance at the old man, she turned back to her father’s grave.
Nothing changed; she still filled like an empty vessel, and he was still gone. Time to leave. She would be seeing Daddy again soon enough; next time she fell asleep, most likely. Mom would be mad at her for playing hooky, but she’d understand.
She was about to head home when a flash of light blinded her for a moment. A moment later, she heard a big booming sound, louder than thunder.
Even before her eyes cleared, Lori knew it was happening again: something bad, something final.
A cloud of dust and smoke was rising from the top of another hill, the one where the town’s landing pad and customs station were – or rather, had been. There were solid pieces of rock and metal mixed in with the smoke, and she dully wondered how much it would hurt if any of them hit her.
“Git down, girl!”
Rough hands pulled her to the ground and dragged her behind a boulder. Mr. Jacobs had grabbed her. Dust and smoke filled the air, and she heard something heavy smash into the ground not too far from where she’d been standing. Smaller pieces of debris rained all around them.
“Did nobody teach you to duck, child?” the old drunk asked her after the rain of rocks and dirt petered out.
She stayed quiet.
“You’re the Kinston kid, ain’t cha?”
Lori nodded at that.
“Sorry about yer papa. He was a good man,” he went on. He’d said something similar to Lori’s mother at the funeral, but that time he’d been drunk enough they’d all been able to smell the booze on him; a couple of men had asked him to leave and he had.
He didn’t look or sound drunk now. He looked alert, awake, a little scary, even. He peered around the boulder and took another look.
“Those were shuttle-mounted missiles,” he said. “Which means any moment now – there!”
Lori looked up and saw a point of light in the sky, growing larger with every passing second. It slowed down as it passed over the town: it was shaped like a giant egg with two smaller eggs on each side, all painted bright green and yellow. The shuttle fired a blast of energy into the valley where the town proper was.
“They just tagged the Sheriff’s car,” Mr. Jacobs said.
“Did they kill him?” she asked in the same tone she’d ask her mother if dinner was ready. Even now, nothing seemed all that important.
“That was a plasma cannon, a three-incher at least. Yep, he’s dead all right.”
There were more flashes and explosions.
“Goddammit. That was the militia armory.”
Lori didn’t say anything.
“You’re what, fifteen?”
“Fourteen.”
“Wonderful. Just don’t do anything to attract attention, or those pirates will blast us, too.”
“Pirates?” she asked. Before today, Lori never figured she’d listen to the likes of Mr. Jacobs. Funny how things could change in a flash.
“That’s not a human shuttle,” he said. “That means aliens. My guess is, they’re the crew of a passing freighter who saw the Navy wasn’t home and decided they’d rather pillage than trade. Playing pirate, in other words.”
“Pirates,” she said, a little bit of wonder in her voice. She’d watched the vids, heard the stories, but hadn’t thought of pirates as something real, not the way busted-up air compressors were real.
“Yep. Some enterprising bunch is betting the Navy won’t show up for a while, what with the war going on.”
The war was real, but in its own way as distant as tales of pirates, or the goings-on at Old Earth. The news been full of stuff about the Days of Infamy, about planets attacked without warning and big battles in space, but none of that had touched Salvation. They lived in a small farming town on Gordon-Four, a no-account planet on a no-account sector of the United Stars of America. Other than the few locals currently serving in the military, the war had little to do with them. It was too far away to matter. Or so she’d thought.
The shuttle landed on the Town Green and over a dozen colorful figures came out as soon as its rear ramp hit the ground. They all held stubby-looking guns at the ready as they trotted forward, but they didn’t have the same outfits, not like real soldiers. Everybody wore body armor and helmets, but some suits were flat and angular, others curvy and almost organic, and they were painted in garish colors, no two the same. All the aliens had four legs and two arms, though. Same species, then.
“No idea who they are,” Mr. Jacobs said. “None of the majors, though. Nobody we’re at war with, either. Some pissants, trying to make a quick buck and bag some humans along the way. All right, I’ve seen enough.”
He started crawling down the slope, on the side away from town.
Lori watched him go and said nothing.
“You need to run and hide, girl,” he told her. “Aliens ain’t gonna spare you if they catch you.”
“I don’t want to run.”
“What do you want to do?”
She thought about it. For the first time in too long, she felt something other than crushing, numbing sorrow, something that burned hot inside her.
“I want to fight.”
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Mr. Jacobs smiled at her. It wasn’t a nice smile.
“Yep, that’s what I aim to do. Could use some help.”
Lori grinned back, and not in a nice way, either.
It was the first time she’d smiled since her father died.
* * *
At first, they ran away from the fight.
Ran all the way down Boot Hill, as soon as they crawled down the steep slope facing away from the town. Lori heard the sounds of battle coming from the other side. It wasn’t like in the vids at all. It would get quiet for a bit, and then a pop-pop-pop sound would start. You had to shoot a lot of varmints around Salvation, so she recognized the sounds: those were rifles and shotguns, the kind all able-bodied citizens of Salvation kept at home or in their trucks. Soon as the pop-pops started, a thunderclap from something else followed, and the shooting would stop. Another bit of quiet, and then the whole thing would start again. In her mind, she pictured men and women uselessly firing their obsolete rifles at forcefield-protected aliens, and getting blasted with energy weapons in return. Each thunderclap meant somebody she knew, someone she’d seen at church every Sunday, was gone.
They slowed down when they reached the woods that grew on the edge of town. He led her up a narrow dirt road that ended between two hills. Mr. Jacob’s shack was near the top of the taller hill. It didn’t look like much, but the door was surprisingly solid, and she suspected the walls were equally sturdy under the faded paint.
“Cost me a pretty penny, but I like my privacy,” Mr. Jacobs said as the door cycled open.
Everyone said Mr. Jacobs was a waste of oxygen. He mostly kept to himself, except for the handful of times a month when he visited the only bar in town and stayed until closing time, drinking and trading war stories with the handful of war veterans who could tolerate his company. He paid for his drinks and didn’t make much of a nuisance of himself, but few people liked him. The good folk of Salvation had no use for the lazy or shiftless.