Void Kraken: Mission 9: Black Ocean: Astral Prime, #9

By J. S. Morin and M. A. Larkin

That void kraken is out there! It can't be bargained with. It can't be reasoned with. And it eats planets.

Unleashed from an alternate universe, the space-borne leviathan dubbed "void kraken" terrorizes the galaxy. The most powerful weapons barely scratch it. Whole fleets fall before it. Its movements are erratic. It's motives inscrutable. All anyone knows for sure is that if it isn't stopped, it's going to eat its way through the galaxy.

Fujita Hiroko feels responsible for the beast's presence in the Milky Way. She tries to rally support to combat the creature, to form an unprecedented inter-species alliance to find a way to stop its rampage.

Meanwhile, Cedric tries to find out all he can, searching the vaieen archive for records of the ancient race's own encounters with the void kraken. If he can find out how those mighty techno-wizards fought them and survived, maybe there's hope for the galaxy.

But there's no time to waste. The stuunji homeworld is in the monster's path. If they don't act quickly, the peaceful refugee planet is doomed.

Void Kraken is the ninth book in the Black Ocean: Astral Prime series. It hearkens back to location-based space sci-fi classics like Babylon 5 and Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. Astral Primebuilds on the rich Black Ocean universe, introducing a colorful cast of characters for new and returning readers alike. Come along for the ride as a minor outpost in the middle of nowhere becomes a key point of interstellar conflict.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Magical Scrivener Press
• Release date: Sep 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9781643550671

Book preview

Void Kraken

VOID KRAKEN

MISSION 9

BLACK OCEAN: ASTRAL PRIME

J.S. MORIN

M.A. LARKIN

MAGICAL SCRIVENER PRESS

Copyright © 2019 J.S. Morin & M.A. Larkin

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed Attention: Permissions Coordinator, at the address below.

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Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Ordering Information: Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address above.

J.S. Morin & M.A. Larkin — First Edition

ISBN: 978-1-64355-067-1

Printed in the United States of America

VOID KRAKEN

MISSION 9

Three weeks in astral.

Sure, maybe it took longer than that to reach Astral Prime from the core worlds … but caught unprepared and undersupplied, the weeks had seemed interminable.

Long enough it had nearly driven her mad. Long enough they had almost run out of food. But no one had dared flee the station until Cedric declared it safe and brought them back up. No one would come in to offer relief with a giant space monster sitting at the doorstop.

Then, it finally left.

Three more weeks since then, spent watching astral relays.

Watching … horror.

Watching it unfold on a galactic scale.

Most days, she spent hour after hour at her desk—Kane had restored her office to her since he didn’t want to actually manage the damn station—staring at the newsfeeds. Casts from around the EADZ that Kendra wouldn’t have bought if she hadn’t seen the thing with her own eyes.

Hiroko had dubbed the monster a void kraken.

A giant space squid with way too many arms attached only to each other—so far as she could tell, anyway—for lack of a coherent body. It almost gave the thing the appearance of a nest of snakes. Those arms, and it had more eyes than anything had any business having. Two eyes, that was perfect. Four eyes, six eyes … Kendra could deal. A googolplex of lidless, shifting eyes that bored into her soul? Nope.

That was a great big pile of steaming nope as far as she was concerned.

And now the kraken flitted about the EADZ, no rhyme or reason to its movements or even its speed. Some of the feeds reported the monster didn’t use astral space at all. It just popped up wherever the hell it felt like.

Even for a monster, that was downright inconsiderate. Maybe even uncouth.

From time to time, Kendra commed Hiroko down on the planet.

The one executive decision Kane did make was saying that under no circumstances was he letting Fujita Hiroko back on the station. Lame-butt Harry didn’t want to run the station, but he’d be damned if anyone else could either.

As for Hiroko, well, the woman knew more than she was saying; that much was obvious. She still wasn’t being upfront, but—Kendra had begun to suspect—maybe she couldn’t be. From the bits that Hiroko did share, it seemed as if the kraken came from some kind of void that Kendra and everyone else simply couldn’t understand. Hiroko wasn’t upfront because Kendra and even Cedric just couldn’t wrap their minds around the nature of the evil now entering this universe.

Minds …

What Hiroko did say, what little she had explained, was that the kraken was attracted to minds. To sentient life forms. It ignored planets with only animal or vegetable life, but those with thinking beings …

Kendra drummed her fingers on her desk.

Three weeks, and Kendra kept thinking, every day, this would be the day Hiroko would unveil her grand scheme to save the galaxy.

Three weeks, though, and what they saw was more of … Kendra glanced at the feed. More that.

The kraken moved from system to system, bypassing some, jumping back to others, coming round again. It was totally random.

When it appeared, it ate.

It wrapped those tentacles around space stations not so unlike Astral Prime, crushed them to bits, and devoured everything in a matter of minutes. Metal, glassteel, sentient beings. Organic and inorganic material, all vanished inside some mouth hidden beneath that nest of tentacles and eyes.

Hell, for all Kendra knew, it had more than one mouth. Maybe it had a thousand.

It grabbed entire asteroids—if it found ones with mining outposts—and ate those too.

It ate ships sent to stop it.

Now, she watched a feed of it blinking in front of a refugee ship that accidentally fled straight for it.

Those who fought died. Those who ran died. Those who hid died.

Kendra quickly flipped off the feed. She’d seen enough of that to know how it would end. A ship ensnared in arms, dragged into oblivion.

Just like the Bangkok and Sevigny. That image felt seared into Kendra’s retinas. She might not have liked the captain, but …

Worse still, sometimes the kraken came to planets.

ARGO and the eyndar weren’t supposed to have colonies in the EADZ. Some independent—stubborn—folks set up out there anyway. People mostly did what they pleased.

And those casts haunted Kendra’s nightmares and her waking moments. The kraken had descended on a planet, dropping onto it like a shadow. Like a cloud falling from the sky in slow motion. Whole forests, towns, cities were wiped away in its passage, leaving gaping holes. The thing literally ate chunks of planets.

Some of the newsfeeds showed the aftermath, where the kraken had bored so deep into the crust as to release magma flows.

It ate anything and everything on any inhabited world, moon, ship, or station it came across. It grazed over entire planets, leaving barren, crumbling rocks behind. The thing was bigger than any battleship and—to Kendra’s stomach-churning despair—appearing to grow larger with each world it ate.

It had descended on an Earth-like, the home of the arantega. Kendra didn’t even know what they called their world.

She had wept while the kraken ate what, on Earth, would have been Aruba. When it moved on, the island itself was gone. Just open ocean where it had been.

She had not been able to bring herself to watch as it slowly gorged itself on the rest of the planet. Refugee ships began an evacuation, but millions upon millions of arantega had died.

She watched the feeds out of ARGO. She watched as people claimed it was all a hoax. A Hollyworld publicity stunt for an upcoming vid. Some thought it was the government, trying to stir up patriotism. Others blamed the eyndar, the zheen, or just the collective xenos.

And Kendra, she almost gagged every time someone said hoax. The very thought of such self-absorption—such lack of empathy—made her physically ill. And spiritually ill. Mentally ill, even.

People outside the EADZ, some had their heads so far up their asses they couldn’t see the kraken for what it was.

The end of life in this galaxy.

Twice before, Myo Tam had seen the board chambers atop the ministry in New Garrelon. Neither time had seemed quite so intimidating. Great windows overlooked the city and the expansive Ada Shol plains beyond. Named for a patriotic philanthropist some three centuries back, the plains were awash with lavender this time of year. Like a sea of purple beauty.

Under other circumstances, she might have reveled in presenting the view to Jace Jarvis.

The human barely even glanced outside today. Instead, he fidgeted nervously at her side.

She knew the feeling.

It was probably worse for him.

He could barely see above the tabletop.

A half dozen ministers sat around that table. Including her brother Rai Kub, the Minister of Galactic Affairs. He nodded reassuringly to her. He could feel her tension, even as she felt Jace’s.

He’d called this meeting when she and Jace had told him …

With a gentle hand, she guided Jace to the omni screen on the far wall. He could make his presentation there. Myo Tam did not envy him.

Just show them what you showed me, she said softly.

My family is here, he said. His voice sounded weak. Like he was made of glass.

Myo Tam nodded solemnly. She saw no reason to point out the obvious. All of their families were here.

Finally, High Councilor Tuu Nau entered. He took his seat at the head of the table. He nodded at each minister in turn.

Then at her.

Myo Tam flushed. She scratched her horn.

The High Councilor cleared his throat. Well, then. Please explain this urgent news.

Myo Tam looked to Jace Jarvis. The human techster tapped his datapad, and omni feeds filled the screen. Displays of devastation spread across the EADZ.

We, uh … Jace swallowed, then visibly steadied himself. We’re calling this the void kraken, a designation assigned by Astral Prime. In the past three weeks, we’ve seen it hit seven inhabited planets that we know of. While most have dismissed its movements as entirely random, I’ve created an algorithm that seems to explain its trajectory with 91 percent accuracy.

Minister Chu Fau raised her hand. I thought it had no trajectory?

Jace straightened his shirt. Not in linear spacetime, no. But using quantum computing, I’ve detected quark-like behavior from the kraken. Enough to project that it will intersect with New Garrelon within 63 hours.

A few of the ministers exchanged glances.

Rai Kub nodded at her once more.

Science Minister Sal Tok tapped the table for attention. You cannot map a quark with any accuracy.

Not with total accuracy, Jace admitted. There remains a certain degree of inherent uncertainty, yes, but that’s factored into my 91 percent assessment.

High Councilor Tuu Nau glowered. Our people endured years of oppression from humans. Then pirates. Now we face just as bad from the eyndar. Surely you cannot really believe a giant space squid now threatens our new homeworld.

Jace stared shamefaced at the wall. Myo Tam reminded herself not all humans approved of ARGO’s expansion policies.

Councilor, Rai Kub said before Myo Tam could speak. You all know my sister has done incredible work on Astral Prime. If she believes this man knows his science, I believe we must take it seriously. We cannot hide our heads in the sand and hope it passes us by.

The ministers exchanged glances, then fell into debate. Some argued for waiting to see what happened.

Myo Tam suspected this was the stupidest possible course of action. Experience had taught her someone would almost always suggest the stupidest possible course. On Astral Prime, one could usually count on the eyndar for that.

After the debate continued for the