Slave Against the Galaxy

By Daniel P. Hennelly

PAUL FALCONER

War Hero
Ensign Paul Falconer earns Sparta’s highest award for valor during it 29th century war with the Earth Federation. Growing up, he emulated his late father, a revered war hero. Like its ancient namesake, Sparta is built on a foundation of slavery. The heir to the throne, Lord Sebastian, despises Paul behind a façade of friendship. Sebastian’s fiancée, Artemis, conducts a dangerous love affair with Paul.

Slave
In a deathbed message, Paul’s mother reveals he was born a slave and illegally adopted. Shipped home to Sparta, he perseveres against the harsh yoke of slavery. Unable to erase Artemis from his heart, he must watch from afar as she marries Sebastian.

Freedom Fighter
Paul’s quest to solve the mystery of his adoption unlocks the empire’s darkest secret. Joining the slaves’ clandestine resistance group, he enlists in a suicidal mission to begin the fight for liberation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Nov 25, 2019
• ISBN: 9781532087066

Daniel P. Hennelly

Daniel Hennelly, a retired university administrator, resides in Norfolk, Virginia. He is the author of two murder mysteries, Fatal Knowledge and Stairway to Death, set at fictional Chesapeake Bay University, and a science fiction novel, Slave Against The Galaxy. His wife is a retired librarian, and they have three grown sons.

Book preview

Copyright © 2019 Daniel P. Hennelly.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

iUniverse

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.iuniverse.com

1-800-Authors (1-800-288-4677)

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-5320-8705-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-8706-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019917445

iUniverse rev. date:  11/23/2019

Contents

Dedication

PROLOGUE

Chapter 1   I

Chapter 2   II

Chapter 3   III

Chapter 4   IV

Chapter 5   V

Chapter 6   VI

Chapter 7   VII

Chapter 8   VIII

Chapter 9   IX

Chapter 10   X

Chapter 11   XI

Chapter 12   XII

Chapter 13   XIII

Chapter 14   XIV

Chapter 15   XV

Chapter 16   XVI

Chapter 17   XVII

Chapter 18   XVIII

Chapter 19   XIX

Chapter 20   XX

Chapter 21   XXI

Chapter 22   XXII

Chapter 23   XXIII

Chapter 24   XXIV

Chapter 25   XXV

Chapter 26   XXVI

Chapter 27   XXVII

Chapter 28   XXVIII

Chapter 29   XXIX

Chapter 30   XXX

Chapter 31   XXXI

Dedication

I dedicate this novel to my wife of thirty-six years, Mary Bride, and my three sons, Christian, Daniel and Liam.

PROLOGUE

Sparta was one of over a dozen planets outside Earth’s home galaxy discovered in the 25th century that boasted a suitable atmosphere for human habitation. It became Earth’s first colony after the long-established settlements on the Moon and Mars. Workers were needed to tame the harsh environment and exploit the abundant natural resources. Over half of the colonists who immigrated to Sparta died in the first year. Since no alien life form had been found capable of hard labor, any encountered were ruthlessly exterminated. To solve the labor shortage, Sparta became a penal colony for Earth’s refuse. Millions of young prisoners, both male and female, made the five-month voyage from Earth to Sparta. Most were guilty of only minor crimes. They toiled in its hellish environment, mining the rich mineral deposits, clearing the land for huge agricultural plantations and providing free labor for factories.

The prisoners were supposed to have been freed upon the completion of their sentence and allowed to either go home or become settlers. Under pressure from economic interests that dominated Sparta, the colonial governor issued a fiat that enslaved the prisoners, giving them no hope of ever regaining their freedom. Living and working in close proximity, the slaves inevitably engaged in sexual relations. Even though they had committed no crime, the children of those illicit unions were enslaved to provide additional labor for the colony.

Sparta’s slave-based economy began to rival Earth’s as its rich natural resources fueled its expansion as an agricultural and manufacturing center. The planet became the breadbasket for the other colonies established on the frontier. Straddling the trade routes, Sparta dominated the commerce between Earth and the over twenty planets that had been colonized in the inhabitable belt.

An oligarchy, composed of Sparta’s wealthiest families, overthrew the colonial administration, replacing it with an emperor and Privy Council. A rubber stamp parliament provided a façade of democracy. Like its namesake from ancient history, Sparta developed into a militaristic state. As it expanded its sphere of influence, Sparta demanded tribute and concessions from neighboring planets, provoking a war with the Earth Federation. Sparta raided the eight planets allied with the Earth Federation, enslaving numerous captives during these incursions. Seven planets were allied with Sparta. Five planets at the fringe of the galaxy were non-aligned.

Rejecting Earth’s culture, the Spartans revived Greek to serve as the official language replacing English, long the universal language on Earth. The Iliad and The Odyssey were the backbone of the high school literature curriculum. Aristotle’s writings provided the philosophical justification for slavery. Sparta’s brutalist-style public buildings projected the regime’s authoritarian power over its people.

With slaves making up over a third of the population, the citizenry lived in fear of a rebellion. Slaves were fitted with control collars that permitted warders to choke an unruly slave into quick submission. The collar sent a signal to a chip implanted under the scalp that signaled the brain to contract the throat muscles as the collar squeezed against the neck. A push of a button and the riot squad could knock a mob to the ground like a bunch of bowling pins. Nanobots, also controlled by the collar, were implanted in the wrists so that slaves could be quickly manacled.

A small abolitionist movement existed, but most Spartans regarded it as a lunatic fringe group. Denied manumission by repressive Slave Codes, the lash kept slaves under the boot of their owners. Spartan slaves dreamed of freedom. Despite being ruthlessly suppressed, an underground slave group, the Organization, fought for emancipation through an alliance with the Earth Federation.

CrossedSwords1.tif

CHAPTER

I

Unable to sleep, Lieutenant Erik Falconer replayed the message from his wife, Marina. Her image, projected from his wrist computer, lighted up the confines of his bunk. She was wearing his favorite black satin negligee. Its plunging neckline allowed a glimpse of the contours of her soft white breasts, her nipples poked through the lace edging. He had received the message a week earlier, just before the assault ship Athena went on communication blackout after it left the space station at Transit Point Delta where it had stopped for a liberty call. It had been four months since he had seen Marina. Erik savored the memories of a weeklong leave before the Athena departed Sparta for the conflict zone. It sustained him through the tough days of a deployment scheduled to last a year, but now with the trouble on Delos, he feared an even longer separation.

Erik, it was so wonderful to be in your arms and to rest my head on your chest. Every day I dream of the glorious week when we conceived our son. Soon he will be stirring inside me. When you return from deployment, he will be walking. I miss you, but I know you and David are protecting our homeland. We’ll be together again soon, and you’ll be holding me in your arms. I’ll love you forever.

Marina blew him a kiss and her image faded away. Erik sighed. It could be weeks or even months before he would receive another message from her. Lacking the cares of a married man, David Marten, his brother-in-law, slept soundly in the upper bunk. They had been bunking together since their first year at the Institute, and he had fallen in love with his sister Marina after spending a weekend furlough with their family. He married Marina two days after his graduation. David was his best man.

He and David both came from military families. His father was an admiral. David’s father was a captain in the medical corps. It was inevitable that they followed in their father’s footsteps and sought appointments to the Institute, Sparta’s elite military academy. At five feet six, both he and David were too small for the Institute’s soccer and rugby teams. Wrestling became their sport. Along with the team captain, Crown Prince Nicholas, they were crowned intercollegiate champions during their senior year.

He, David, and Nick had been dubbed the Three Musketeers by their mates. They had been friends since the maelstrom of their first day at the Institute. Assigned to the Athena after graduation, their ten-years together had ended three months ago when Nick was recalled to Sparta when the emperor was diagnosed with terminal cancer.

The shrieking claxon calling the crew to battle stations tore through the sleeping cruiser. David dropped to the floor as Erik rolled out of his bunk.

I hope this isn’t another one of those frigging drills, said David rubbing his eyes.

They pulled on their flight suits and joined the melee of half-dressed officers, marines, sailors and slaves in the passageway.

What idiot would call a drill for 0330 hours, laughed Erik as they ran to the ready room.

We’re two days out from Delos, said another pilot as they reached their destination.

Attention.

Captain Zhao, the Athena’s captain, and Admiral Kiran, the task force commander, strode grim-faced into the compartment.

Take your seats, ordered Admiral Kiran.

"At 0300 hours, advance ships of the task force came under attack. An Earth Federation battle group has positioned itself between Delos and the main body of our task force. We’ve lost contact with the frigate Leonidas and must assume it was destroyed. The battle cruiser Thermopylae has been heavily damaged and forced to withdraw," said Admiral Kiran.

"We’ll launch our fighters to cover the Thermopylae’s withdrawal. Your orders are to engage the enemy task force and destroy it," said Captain Zhao as cheers erupted in the briefing room.

"Avenge the Leonidas!"

Kill the bastards!

Destroy the cocksuckers!

Although the Earth Federation had drawn first blood, he and his fellow pilots would render vengeance. Sparta had long sought a decisive confrontation with its enemy. This day had been on the horizon since he had entered the Institute as a seventeen-year-old boy.

He embraced his brother-in-law, Godspeed.

You can count on me, David replied.

As his wingman, David would ensure that he would emerge unscathed and hold his son in his arms.

38870.png

G forces pushed Erik back against his seat as the Falcon shot from the launch tube. He checked his nav computer for the coordinates of the Thermopylae and turned on his com link. The small green blips of his squadron formed up on his radar screen, and he saw the large green blip of the Thermopylae on the outer edge of the screen. There was no sign of any orange blips representing the enemy’s fighters.

ETA to target fifteen minutes, announced the computer breaking the silent black void surrounding him.

Erik looked again at his radar screen and suddenly a flock of tiny orange blips was pursuing the large green blip. The Earth Federation was attacking in full force.

Our fighters were wiped out in the first wave of the attack. They have knocked out five of our six laser turrets. We need fighter protection before their second wave arrives.

The frantic voice of the comm tech relayed the desperate situation aboard the Thermopylae. She was a cripple. Escape was her only hope to avoid destruction.

Erik had never seen so many enemy blips before. Another swarm of fighters entered his screen. The four scout fighters disappeared off the radar, no doubt destroyed. The Earth Federation fighters were separating into two groups, one group to attack the Thermopylae and the other group … was headed straight for his squadron.

We’re outnumbered two to one, radioed David as the enemy fighters came within visual range.

Then we can kill twice as many of them, he replied.

They’re swarming all over us, screamed another pilot, unable to control his panic.

He fired to take out one of the fighters and David scored a hit on another, but the Earth Federation quickly knocked out three Spartan fighters in the vicious dogfight. He looked at his radar and realized the second squadron of enemy fighters was ignoring the Thermopylae. Instead, they had peeled off, searching for another target.

It was a trap. The enemy fighters were giving the crippled Thermopylae a reprieve, knowing it no longer possessed any strategic value. After drawing out the Athena’s fighter complement to protect the Thermopylae, it was sending a strike force to attack and destroy the Athena. Later they would return to administer the coup de grace to the dying Thermopylae. Erik turned his fighter around and locked onto the fighters headed for the Athena. David instinctively followed him.

"Falcon why are you turning around?" demanded his squadron leader.

"The Athena is the real target. They’ve used the Thermopylae as a decoy to lure us out," he replied.

I’ve never seen so many fighters, radioed another pilot.

Head back to protect the task force, ordered the squadron leader.

Erik looked at his radar and saw a mass of orange blips headed for the Athena. Where are they coming from? Could the Earth Federation have committed its whole fleet to the battle?

The squadron closed the gap on the trailing Earth Federation fighters. Erik locked on one and fired, vaporizing it with a massive energy burst. Seconds later David took out a second fighter. Alert to their position, two Earth Federation fighters quickly changed direction. Erik scored his second kill, but before he could celebrate this small victory, David’s fighter disappeared in a blinding energy pulse. A stinging numbness came over him, but he didn’t have time to mourn David.

That wasn’t a fighter. Only a cruiser carries a laser that powerful.

A large orange blip, it had to be an Earth Federation cruiser, appeared on the edge of his radar, closing in on the position of the Athena.

They’ve outflanked our picket ships, he shouted.

Roger that, replied the Athena’s CIC.

Erik found himself locked in a dog fight with the remaining fighter but now without David to protect him, he was in a precarious position. The fighter locked onto him, but Erik was able to maneuver to avoid the center of the energy pulse. Still the trailing edge of the pulse rattled the Falcon. Turning, Erik locked onto the fighter and fired, making his third kill of the battle. Normally three kills would be cause for a celebration, but not today. The Athena had lost too many pilots, good men and women all. Erik thought of having to face David’s parents and Marina when he returned to Sparta. David had always been there to protect him, but today he had failed him. In a flash, he’d lost his brother-in-law and best friend.

He must avenge David’s death by attacking the Federation cruiser. It would be suicidal, but it would buy time for the Athena to escape. His fighter carried only one missile for attacking a large target like the cruiser.

Closing on the cruiser, Erik evaded energy bursts from the main battery and sweated a near miss by its forward laser. He fired at the last second knowing the cruiser would be unable to maneuver out of the missile’s track. It impacted below the bridge and tore a mammoth hole in the hull. The cruiser was in its death throes.

That’s payback for David.

He maneuvered to escape the fighters swarming around him. Off in the distance, he saw an ominous laser flash and checked his radar.

"Athena, there’s a second cruiser in your starboard sector," he shouted on his radio.

How in the fucking galaxy did they find our position? replied the Athena’s CIC.

He watched in horror as several massive energy bursts streaked across his radar screen. Seconds later, the Athena disappeared. A shock wave enveloped the Falcon. Milliseconds later, Lieutenant Erik Falconer and his fighter disintegrated. Millions of tiny particles now drifted aimlessly in the blackness.

38872.png

Crown Prince Nicholas was awoken by the fierce light of the Spartan dawn pouring through his bedroom window. It failed to stir the blonde, nineteen-year-old slave girl sleeping beside him. As heir to the throne, he was accustomed to many perks. He had spotted her working in the officers’ mess at the Admiralty. Tall and slender, she was an exquisite beauty, and his intermediaries had her reassigned to the palace. Her blue eyes flickered for a moment when he pulled the sheet over her naked body.

He’d bedded many women, both slave and free, since being taken to a brothel to celebrate his sixteenth birthday. Six feet tall, his blonde hair and blue eyes alone made him attractive to women. Being heir to the throne was the icing on the cake for them.

Unfortunately, the slave was pregnant with his child, the consequence of a flawed contraceptive implant. The Slave Codes mandated that the pregnancy be terminated, as it was forbidden for a citizen, much less a prince, to impregnate a slave.

His wrist computer signaled an urgent message from his superior, the First Lord of the Admiralty. He’d been assigned as his aide when the recurrence of his father’s cancer forced his return to Sparta. Quickly he pulled on his pants and buttoned up his uniform tunic.

Yes sir, he answered.

"We’ve received reports of an engagement between the Athena battle group and an Earth Federation force near Delos. I must brief the emperor immediately."

I’ll check with my father’s physician as to whether he can meet with you so soon after his most recent surgery.

His lordship took an audible deep breath. "We’ve lost contact with Admiral Kiran aboard the Athena. Only a tender, the Hephaestus, has escaped annihilation."

Having served on the Athena before being called home, he found it hard to accept that his former shipmates had been killed. He didn’t have time to mourn their loss. What were the Earth Federation losses?

Intercepted transmissions indicate that one cruiser was destroyed by a missile.

What caused this debacle?

"The Athena walked into a trap. We’ve long suspected the presence of spies among the slaves serving in the fleet."

What about Delos?

It’s now controlled by the slaves. The royal governor attempted to flee but was captured and killed along with several other officials.

His father would be distressed by the slaying of the governor, a longtime family friend. The disastrous defeat meant the balance of power had shifted, perhaps permanently, in favor of the Earth Federation. Conquering Delos gave the Earth Federation an operating base at the border of the Spartan empire and threatened the trade route to Alexandria, the farthermost planet. News of the slave revolt would have to be suppressed.

With his father terminally ill, Sparta’s future would soon rest on his shoulders. The conflict with the Earth Federation was sapping valuable resources. Was there an alternative path besides endless war?

I’ll notify my father’s physician to wake him. My father values Sir Henri Devereux’s counsel. I want him present at the briefing.

Sir Henri’s help is most needed to get us through this crisis, replied the First Lord to end the call.

Nicholas ran his hand over the slave’s breasts. Ordinarily it would be assumed that one of the male slaves among the retinue assigned to the palace had impregnated her. But it was well known that she was his alone and off limits to them. Before the pregnancy began to show, she would be reassigned to prevent the other slaves from gossiping who was responsible. The pregnancy would be quietly terminated, and no one the wiser. He’d become strangely fond of the girl and would miss her.

38874.png

Born to the warrior caste, Paul David Falconer knew his destiny was to fight the Earth Federation as his uncle, father, and grandfathers before him. He stood proudly in his dress white uniform in front of the Cenotaph, the monument honoring those who gave their lives during the long war, with the other first year cadets from the Institute. They had all survived hell month, the period after matriculation when they were put through a series of physical and mental challenges designed to weed out the unfit. Of the 1,500 cadets who matriculated, only 1,100 made it through hell month. Only the strong would be permitted to swear the sacred oath of Sparta.

At times, he feared he would fail. His grandfather Falconer had warned him that his mind and body would be pushed to their limits. Nothing he’d faced in his seventeen years had prepared him for the ordeal. Six feet tall and 170 pounds, he had taken a pounding in boxing matches with other cadets. Although bloodied numerous times, his was the arm raised in triumph at the end of the bout. Like his father and uncle, he’d joined the wrestling team.

He’d been born six months after his father’s death. Shortly after the defeat at Delos, the Crown Prince was assassinated. Emboldened by the Earth Federation victory, slave revolts broke out across the empire. It was a dark time that had threatened the empire’s survival. His mother, her heart broken by the loss of her young husband, never remarried. Her brother, David, had perished at Delos too, and his middle name honored his uncle. Many of the older instructors remembered his father and uncle and were surprised that he was six inches taller than them.

His roommate, Lance Suzuki, stood to his left. A wrestler too, they shared identical builds. Sweat soaked Lance’s jet-black hair. Four weeks of running and exercising in the sun had bronzed Lance’s tawny skin. Lance had become a brother to him, helping him through several tough spots. He had two sisters and Paul had no siblings, it seemed only natural that a fraternal bond developed between them. The same link that had developed between his father and uncle.

His mother and grandparents were present. Though retired, both his grandfathers proudly wore their dress uniforms to the ceremony. As much as he wanted to crane his neck and look for them, he stood rigidly at attention, staring ahead at the eternal flame honoring those who had perished in the war against the Earth Federation. This was a proud day for his family, but a heartrending one too. His grandparents had been here previously when their sons took the oath to defend the empire, and he knew they feared that he might die in battle too. Knowing his sense of duty, his mother never once tried to dissuade him from attending the Institute.

Like most days on Sparta, the brutal sun bore down and roasted Paul. The starched white collar of his dress uniform choked his neck. Sweat rolled down his back. His laser rifle, despite resting on his shoulder, seemed like it weighed a ton. If he could survive another twenty minutes, hell month would be over.

Artemis Rinaldi stood to Paul’s right. Sensing his discomfort, she flashed him a brief smile. Willowy with soft olive colored skin, dark brown hair and emerald green eyes, he was smitten by her beauty the first time he saw her in the dining hall. Like most teenage boys, he’d been infatuated with various girls, but never had a serious relationship with any of them. He never imagined falling in love during the chaos of hell month. Their surreptitious romance would be consummated during the first furlough granted plebes.

Empress Eugenia stepped to the podium. Normally a senior general or admiral administered the oath, but today the empress had the honor since her eldest son, Sebastian, was matriculating as a cadet. Tall and blonde like his mother, he and Sebastian had become friendly rivals when pitted against each other in wrestling and boxing matches. Due to Sebastian being heir to the throne, other cadets pulled their punches in boxing matches with him. He knocked Sebastian out cold in their bout.

Raising his right hand, he began reciting the oath. Tears filled the eyes of the spectators as their strong voices declared at the end, I will vanquish all who threaten the peace and prosperity of Sparta. I vow to avenge those who gave their lives at Delos and take the fight to the Earth Federation.

Cheers erupted across the plaza. Ever since he had first visited the Institute at the age of six, he had dreamed of becoming a cadet. On that day, his father had been posthumously awarded the Cross of Valor, Sparta’s highest military decoration. His mother had carefully prepared him for the ceremony. It had been hard to stand still and not fidget. He was too young to understand his mother’s tears when she stepped forward to accept his father’s medal. It would be difficult to follow his father’s example, but he would live up to his family’s expectations.

Five grueling years at the Institute lay ahead. Like his father, uncle, and grandfather, he would train as a fighter pilot. Two great warships, the Olympia and Orion, were under construction. Olympia would be commissioned shortly before his graduation, Orion two year later. He and several of his classmates had already requested assignment to the Olympia. His father’s death would be avenged.

Slavery was a moral imperative, necessary to control the criminal elements in society. The Earth Federation had no right to demand its end. Until the Earth Federation was defeated, and Sparta free to pursue its destiny, there would be no peace in the universe.

CrossedSwords1.tif

CHAPTER

II

Exhausted after a ten-hour patrol, Paul lay on his bunk unable to sleep. He was not apprehensive about impending combat. Five years at the Institute had prepared him to confront his fears. Worrying about his mother’s health kept him awake.

Marina Falconer’s cancer had recurred just before his graduation from the Institute. Battling cancer since his first year at the Institute, her condition had started deteriorating after the Olympia left Sparta. Since moving into the conflict zone, the ship had been under a communication blackout. His mother’s last message had alarmed him. It gnawed at Paul, like the cancer ravaging his mother’s body.

Much was riding on the Olympia’s first deployment. Since the defeat at Delos twenty-three years earlier, the Earth Federation’s strategy of putting pressure on the empire’s outermost colonies and gaining allies among the planets in the non-aligned sector, Sparta’s position had become tenuous. The recent hit and run attacks against Spartan merchant vessels by an Earth Federation cruiser mandated an early deployment of the Olympia. Built in secret, the Olympia and her unfinished sister, the Orion, were larger than any warship in the Earth Federation fleet. Her mission was to reverse the tide of defeats and take the battle to the enemy. Details deliberately leaked to the Earth Federation gave the impression that the Olympia was merely a sister of the Athena, lost at Delos. But bristling with advanced weapons systems and an increased fighter complement, the ship would give Sparta the edge. The commissioning of the Orion in three years would seal the defeat of the Earth Federation.

Olympia churned through the blackness in pursuit of its prey, the cruiser Roma. The Roma’s attacks on freighters plying the trade route to Alexandria, the empire’s furthermost planet, had put it in a stranglehold. Dozens of freighters sat idly in orbit, afraid of being destroyed if they left the safety of Alexandria’s defenses. If the Olympia failed to hunt down and destroy the cruiser, Alexandria would slowly starve and collapse. The elusive cruiser had evaded the Olympia for over five months, and tension racked its officers and crew.

Leaning over his bunk, Paul checked on his sleeping roommate. Lance’s worries seemed insignificant. His girlfriend back home had ditched him just before the communication blackout. He moped around for a few days but bounced back to begin an affair with a nurse in sickbay. He wished his problems were so easily resolved.

The cabin speaker let out a shrill signal and a computer-generated voice ordered, Ensigns Suzuki and Falconer, report to the flight deck immediately.

Paul jumped from his bunk to the deck and grabbed his flight suit, then tossed Lance his suit.

Hey, what’s up? asked Lance as he pulled on his boots.

We’ll find out soon enough, said Paul as they ran into a curly-haired slave mopping the passageway outside their stateroom.

Don’t you know to stand clear, boy, reprimanded Lance.

Sorry sir.

Ten lashes would teach him a lesson, said Paul.

Lance laughed. The slave failed to see the humor in being whipped and shot them the finger behind their backs. Hustling down to the hangar bay, they found the ground crew readying their fighters for launch.

Their squadron leader emerged from the ready room. You’ll need full space suits for this one.

Paul groaned at the thought of wearing the bulky suit. What’s the mission sir?

Sorry to get you out of your bunks. The CIC has picked up a faint distress signal, but the fighters on patrol have already passed through that sector. Captain Gupta doesn’t want to risk giving our position away by using the long-range radio to order them back.

Is a ship under attack? asked Lance.

None of our vessels should be in that sector. An inbound convoy to Alexandria passed through three days ago. Find out what is sending that signal. Use your short-range radio to communicate with each other and use your long-range radio only if attacked. It could be a trap.

They went to the ready room and stripped off their flight suits.

What do you think is out there? asked Lance.

The fact we’re suiting up tells me that Captain Gupta suspects that it’s a derelict hulk.

Two slaves helped them into the unwieldy space suits and snapped on their helmets. Paul hated the suit. It made it difficult to handle the fighter’s controls. In their suits, designed for zero gravity, they waddled out to their fighters and forced themselves in. He pushed the button to close the cockpit on the sleek black fighter.

The ground crew loaded his fighter into the launch tube. When he received the go signal on his computer, Paul pushed the launch button. The Falcon II shot into space, seconds later Lance followed in his fighter, Lancer.

Becoming a fighter pilot like his father fulfilled his boyhood dreams, and he named his fighter Falcon II after his father’s fighter, the Falcon. Paul thought back to the afternoon he’d vowed to avenge those who perished at Delos. This sortie, no matter how routine it seemed, might be the one to fulfill his sacred oath.

38838.png

Here’s your coffee sir, I mean ma’am said the flustered mess attendant as he put the mug down.

Being in the presence of Ensign Rinaldi always befuddled Jukka. Few slaves had the honor to serve someone so beautiful. Her black uniform tunic and pants accentuated the shape of her tall slender body. The shapeless uniform mandated for female slaves concealed the beauty of their figures, making the untouchable ensign even more alluring. He lingered to inhale the scent of her perfume. Cosmetics and perfume were luxuries beyond the reach of slaves.

Artemis smiled at his mistake. We’re all tired tonight. How old are you, boy?

I just turned eighteen, ma’am.

The gangly slave nervously ran his hand through his close cropped, chestnut colored hair. She could see the scar on the right side of his head where his control chip was implanted. He wore a sleeveless uniform shirt that exposed the identification number tattooed vertically on his right arm from the shoulder to the elbow. Artemis noticed the Λ in his number, ΛΣΦ713218, denoting his lineage from the first slaves sent out from Earth.

Is this your first deployment?

Yes ma’am, my mother and father are mess attendants too.

Artemis detected a sense of pride in his voice, unusual for a slave.

"Are they serving on the Olympia?"

"No ma’am, they’re assigned to the Castor and Pollux. My older brothers are on the Delphi." Absent-mindedly the boy fidgeted with the control collar around his neck.

Although he looked harmless, Artemis knew the collar was necessary to subjugate the slave population. A one-inch square box attached to the bottom of the thin ring of titanium held the power to choke a slave into submission or death, if necessary. The black nanobots in his wrists could be activated if he needed to be manacled. In the center of the box, a small blue light pulsed indicating the collar awaited the command to activate.

What’s your name boy?

Jukka ma’am. No officer has ever asked my name before.

Her parents were initially opposed when she told them she was going to apply for an appointment to the Institute. They would’ve preferred she pursue a career in business or the law. Women of her social class rarely chose a career in the military. She was motivated to join the military by the death of her cousin at Delos. It was the duty of all Spartans to defend their homeland against the Earth Federation.

Artemis took another sip of her coffee. It was going to be a long night. She watched the two fighters on the radar screen. The distress signal had put the CIC on alert. Captain Gupta feared it could be a trap set by the enemy cruiser to distract the Olympia’s fighter protection. Was the cruiser waiting to pounce on the scout fighters protecting the Olympia? One of the fighters was piloted by her fiancé Sebastian.

Her marriage to Sebastian had been arranged by their parents. The Rinaldis were one of the eight families that ruled Sparta. Uniting the two families would eliminate the factions that had developed in the oligarchy. Their engagement had been announcement over Christmas of their fifth year of the Institute. Her parents were pleased that she would be the consort of the future emperor.

Sebastian’s good looks and charm alone captivated women. Despite their marriage being arranged, she had fallen in love with him. Before graduation, his mother had intervened and arranged their assignments to the Olympia. Their marriage would take place after the deployment ended.

It had taken six weeks for the Olympia to voyage out to the conflict zone. Settling into their assignments, it seemed like when one of them was off duty, the other had duty. They squeezed hours out of the minutes available to them, vowing that nothing would ever come between them.

38868.png

Falcon II’s navigation computer locked on the coordinates of the distress signal. The signal was coming from something orbiting a barren ice planet designated only as BX573 on the star charts, a planet so worthless no one had bothered to name it. As BX573 loomed ahead, the signal became stronger. Lancer was several miles behind the Falcon II. Paul entered into orbit around the planet and accelerated to catch up with the signal. He waited until the last possible minute to switch on his weapons systems.

Target identified, announced the fighter’s computer. California class container vessel, no functioning propulsion system or life forms detected.

The large freighter drifted in an erratic orbit. Falcon II drew abreast of it. Paul switched on his searchlight and scanned the derelict for markings so he could identify it. Several blast marks and meteor strikes pockmarked the freighter’s hull. It had been adrift before captured by the planet’s gravity.

"This is Lancer, come in Falcon II. What did you find?"

"Her markings indicate she’s the Rising Sun out of Alexandria. According to the shipping registry, she’s been overdue for six months."

Can we board her?

The hatch to the hangar bay was blasted open. She’s lost pressurization and artificial gravity. Skip was right about needing these suits, answered Paul.

He circled the ship. She’d been surprised by cruiser and unable to get off a distress signal. A direct hit from the cruiser’s laser had torn a gaping hole in the starboard side of the hull. The ship’s air supply had been sucked out by the vacuum of space, probably killing all the crew instantly.

Entering the landing bay, he set Falcon II down on the deck. He opened his cockpit and floated out. A light on his helmet illuminated the dark hangar as he used his suit’s jets to maneuver until the electro-magnets in his boots anchored him to the deck plates. Surveying the hangar, the boarding party had blown open the hatch to the passageway to the bridge.

Let’s head to the bridge and get the log, he told Lance over the radio when he landed.