Captain D'Artagnan Jones and the Felspindyll from Zardogaz

By K.G. McAbee

Captain D'Artagnan Jones--Dart to friends and enemies alike--and his co-pilot, Stelle-13R, are on an important mission for the Galactic Legion. If they don't protect the felspindyll from the Reticulum Drift, aka The Dark, another planet may yet be lost to the creeping unknown which is slowly taking over this quadrant of the galaxy. Galactic Legionnaires to the rescue!

• Language: English
• Publisher: K.G. McAbee
• Release date: Mar 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9788832545395

Book preview

Six

Prologue

Dark of Night

D'Artagnan Jones swam back to what seemed, at least for the moment, to pass for consciousness. He drew in a deep breath and took quick stock of his physical reactions.

His head pounded; check.

His muscles ached; check.

There was a fierce sound ringing in his ears, like a dozen Trions playing zee-gee bumper ball, using their stocky bodies like battering rams as they slammed into each other and caromed off to twist around in freefall and do it again.

Check.

He turned his head cautiously to one side. He stopped with an involuntary hiss, then wished fervently that he hadn't even moved it at all. He was hesitant to even blink, after the agony that lanced through his head, but he had to know what was happening.

He took another deep breath to steel himself against further pain and opened his eyes.

Dark.

Not the dark of a dim cubicle, where the faint sub-ocular glow made familiar things look alien.

Not the dark of deep space, where always against the velvet backdrop blazed fields of red, green, yellow and blue stars.

Not the dark of an abandoned, near demolished space ship, like the one in which he'd lived and almost died as a child.

No. He couldn't go there. Not even after all these years did he dare think for long of that lost, horrible, loneliest of time.

But even that unthinkable dark had not been the same as this.

This dark was the pure, unadulterated, undiluted absence of all light. It pressed against his aching eyes like the weight of a star cruiser, bearing down on him, crushing his resistance, removing all semblances of hope and desire.

Where in the name of the Service was he?

How did he get here?

Where was Stelle?

And most importantly, why was there a taste in his mouth that reminded him irresistibly of the time he'd gone on a bender in that small frontier outpost and overindulged in homebrew, followed by a whole pie he'd later found out had been made of boiled Ban?

Hey, Stelle, you there? D'Artagnan Jones said. His voice sounded weak and rusty, as if he hadn't used it in a while—a very long while. He cleared his throat, spat into the blind darkness, and tried again, with a bit more success. Stelle?

I was wondering if you were ever going to wake, said a calm voice that felt like a beacon of warmth in the bone-chilling blackness.

At once the darkness seemed less threatening, though no less dark.

I've been sitting here waiting for you to wake up, entertained by little more than your snores.

I don't snore, Dart said, as he always did. He knew it was a lie; Stelle knew it was a lie. But he always said it anyway. Where are we?

What do you remember about our last mission? Stelle asked. She sounded evasive to Dart. How could Stelle sound evasive? She wasn't programmed for that. What do you remember about the trip to Zardogaz?

Zardogaz? He did seem to recall something about Zardogaz, though his mind was so fuzzy it was hard to sort out the memories.

Zardogaz. Sure, he remembered!

What else did he remember? Let's see. Meeting with Commander Williamson. New mission. Going to Zardogaz to deliver…something…to someone…what was it?

If only his head didn't hurt so much!

If only the blackness would clear!

Dart tried to settle the roiling in his stomach as he thought back…

Chapter One

Felspindyll

The speakers blared in the mess hall, a ringing klaxon call meant to get immediate attention. A small Bansnict, who'd been pouring the strong, hot brew the Legionnaires called 'rocket juice' or 'arjay' into a pair of metal mugs, hissed at the noise, and a shiver shot through his furry body. Bansnicts were notoriously sensitive to sound; they could hear much higher and lower on the scale than most other species.

SilverStar 5, report to the commander! SilverStar 37, report to the commander! barked a metallic voice after the klaxon stopped.

"This better not be anything to cancel