Interstellar Reporter Danica Star: Unto War

By Ross Loren Lindrud

Danica Star, a journalist, enters the Vega Star system in October 2945 on a hunch. Danica watched as a dark shadow loomed over the planet Aremis shortly before the attack on Vega II began. Cries for help swept across the system, the Vanduul rained destruction across the planet, and brave soldiers failed to stop them. A rag-tag group of military ships scrambled hours before the second fleet arrived to aid the civilian evacuation, all while holding off the Vanduul long enough to get everyone out. Before the 2nd fleet swooped in, before the military victory, before the politicians feigned interest, and before the Great Speech... This is the untold story of those crucial hours that have brought us Unto War.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Dec 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667871974

Book preview

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This is a work of fan fiction. All characters, places, events, ships, and ship designs, and other content originating from Star Citizen, Squadron 42, or other content produced or created by its publishers or developers, are the property of Cloud Imperium Rights LLC and Cloud Imperium Rights Limited.

Cover by Darwin Cellis

https://www.artstation.com/darwinzero

ISBN: 978-1-66787-173-8 (paperback)

ISBN: 978-1-66787-174-5 (eBook)

For my mother Jahnett & my wife Christine,

who both listened to my silly dreams all these years.

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Tell Me You Got That Shot

Chapter 2: Never Die in Space

Chapter 3: Wings Unfurled

Chapter 4: The Orphans of Vega

Chapter 5: The Battle of Keiring Station

Chapter 6: No Time to Pick

Chapter 7: Bullard, Walter, and the Primitives

Chapter 8: Just Grow Up

Chapter 9: The Ship with No Name

Chapter 10: Starfall

Chapter 11: The Witness

Note to the Reader

Glossary

Chapter 1:

Tell Me You Got That Shot

Danica tapped away, trying to squeeze some truth out of a bunch of ones and zeroes, but it was not absolute truth she was looking for. She sought the inner maxim that stirred inside a given demographic in a particular range of income, authenticity that could ease the sale of the story.

Her manicured fingers, her augmented ageless dermis, her perfect hair, all prepared for the eventual request to go live.

She flipped the controls like a conductor, footage zooming by, barely giving her long enough to look at it. But it worked that way.

The scene flickered in and out of focus as she toggled through a dizzying array of playback options: three-dimensional; centralized VR; holographic… then stopped.

Her bored expression changed to one of vision.

She restarted the footage.

The hologram displayed a child, an updraft lifting her hair, her dress tattered and burned, soot on her cheeks, her eyes focused beyond the visible. The devastation created a backdrop no less dramatic. A flag, tattered, scorched, draped over a crashed ship, a death shroud.

The flag depicted a prominent four-pronged spear pointed at three stars. The light of dusk created a natural fade-out while a gentle breeze caressed the scene.

Danica wondered about the flag, a rally point for the righteous.

Her eyes focused beyond the holographic display, a thousand ideas diverging in all directions. She shook it off and again gazed at the footage.

This wasn’t a pirate raid. Couldn’t be. There was real power behind it, Danica thought. Walter, so much talent wrapped in an idiot.

She looked around and tried to figure out where she was, taking in the tangle of wires and electronics that made up her editing station. Recognizing the back of a ship—her ship, her news van—she raised an eyebrow, losing track of where she was and why she never drove.

She rewound the footage. Again, the young girl, dirty white dress, bloody, dazed, walking through the scene of devastation. The flag fluttered on the ship. A light flashed on a nearby monitor. She reached out and tapped the screen.

The footage of the little girl kept rolling.

The screen popped with static like a channel transmission way out of range. Danica took in a deep breath and let it out as if centering herself for a yoga pose.

And what do you want?

***

Walter took a long deep breath and looked around. He loved this cockpit. From here, he had a full view, thrust out into the void. Look straight up and you observed stars. Left, right, between your feet, only stars. He noticed an odd glare; the local star was aft. The ship’s vector pointed toward a jump point forming their escape from the madness and danger. Walter smirked at his half fishbowl. What is he? A fish, in a spaceship? A space-bowl? Fish-space? He grinned.

What the hell are you doing up there? He jumped.

Walter still didn’t like the idea of leaving the cockpit, but there was nothing out there.

He disengaged the drive and guessed at a safe trajectory, assuring himself there wasn’t a ship, rock, or planet within a million kilometers.

Navigating the Vega star system was as safe as it got.

Walter pulled the configuration lever and the ship quickly transformed, its cockpit rotating from a vertical alignment to horizontal, allowing access to the rear cargo bay.

He looked to his right as the second seat from below glided into place next to him. As the rotation completed, the rear access door came into view. He floated out of the pilot’s seat, opened the hatch and pulled his way through.

I think we should go back. Walter put his fist on the bulkhead and bit his lip. We could take on maybe a dozen survivors.

And get shot down in that mess?

He glanced at the footage.

Danica, that won’t work, Walter said.

I like the framing.

Framing? I shot raw multidimensional footage, with all subjects in the proper orientation, and you cut it down to two dimensions.

Walter threw up his arms and twisted uncontrollably in the microgravity.

Shut up, Walter. I need you to open up a feed to the network. I want to upload this before we miss the news, Danica replied.

We’ll make the news? He grabbed a handhold to right himself.

Yes, make the sector news and if possible, all the way to Earth.

Dani, this is a long form; there is no way the network will pick it up and why would Earth care? Walter said just as a faint beep caught Danica’s attention.

We’re going to go live here, Danica said. Walter watched her staring at a small flat screen to her left. She shook her head and closed the footage.

I’ve seen the footage too, Dani, I don’t think this is live material. Pirates, dead and missing refugees, that won’t sell. We need to get some combat footage. The words died in his throat.

That’s not your problem, and who said this had anything to do with pirates? Danica half listened to Walter while a holographic map of the solar system sprang to life.

Walter muttered about how the Star System emergency broadcast said it was pirates while he pulled himself over to the transmitter and fired it up. A humming motor told him the antenna had was extending, connection logs streaming by on the screen.

He found the final authorization, then a warning.

‘System Emergency Data given top priority, all other traffic will be limited.’

We have a problem.

Walter noticed Danica pushing something out of sight. She turned back to him, still not listening. She had that look. A shiver ran down Walter’s legs, as if about to fall.

Dani, the EBS is shutting down local transmission. We’ll need to get to a jump point to send data. He leaned his head into her sight line. We can’t transmit; we have to get out of here.

He felt a lump in his throat.

You’re right, she answered.

He flinched, turned to see her blank distant stare.

Okay, he said hesitantly. Great.

EBS doesn’t shut down traffic for pirates. You are right, we don’t have it. We need a hook. She looked back at the small screen, and he could see text formatted almost exactly like an EBS transmission. Get in the pilot seat.

She reached into the mess of wires behind her and flicked a switch.

Walter, about to say something, watched the blank holographic display change to a navigational chart. It zoomed out several times as Danica clicked and adjusted the controls. A red spot appeared in the three-dimensional image.

What is that?

The inevitable has come to pass; we don’t have it. She turned to him. Walter, get in the pilot seat.

He stared; he knew that voice. The cold calm of a woman about to get them into danger.

Walter put his foot against the bulkhead, kicked off toward the front and pulled himself back into the cockpit. He flipped on the navigation, strapping in and spotting a new waypoint on his display. He froze.

Warp us there as fast as you can, Danica’s voice squawked over his headset.

Okay, okay, he said and powered up the quantum drive, rubbing his shaking hands together. The back-hatch snapped shut as the cockpit rotated to a vertical layout.

The HUD flickered on. He lined the ship up to the virtual lines showing the direction of travel and engaged the quantum drive.

A point of light appeared just a few meters in front of the ship. Like fireworks, streams of light flowed from the spot, and the ship’s very existence began to squeeze into the singularity.

Then everything snapped back, the turbulence stopped, and he watched the stream of quantum particles slide past. He exhaled.

We’ll be there in under ten minutes. He leaned to see distant planets moving by. Quantum travel distracted Walter, making him feel as if he was flying through water.

Make sure the camera drones are ready, she said.

They all check out, all green and ready to record, Walter explained.

Good. Now start recording.

Now? Walter rolled his eyes.

Yes Jellyfish, now, and as soon as we’re out of warp, get back here and establish an uplink.

But I already told you—

Do what I say, and we might live through this.

Walter stared blankly ahead.

He let out a deep breath and pulled up the cameras on the display.

Wait, live through what? he said to himself.

The ship exited warp and Walter yawed the ship so hard he felt strained by the G-forces. He’d dodged something, then pulled hard on the control stick again.

That was too close!

He throttled down, but the flotsam seemed to be moving in all directions as if they’d just arrived inside a gigantic explosion. A shower of small metallic objects clattered on the hull.

I can’t fly through this! Walter said, putting up a hand to shield his head.

Don’t be so dramatic and follow this beacon, Danica’s voice cracked over the comm.

He glanced down at the dash.

The display showed a flicker aft. He turned the ship toward the signal and after a few minutes of flying around bits of metal and ship parts, the fighter loomed into sight.

What the hell? He hit the comm switch. Found it. What do you want me to do? Danica didn’t answer. He flipped over to ship to ship.

This is KTRK Terra. We are answering your—distress beacon, Walter said, unsure about why they were there.

He repeated the call and heard a lot of static, interference, or was it jamming?

Civilian craft are all required to evacuate the system for your own safety. The man spoke in a terse voice. Walter didn’t realize his ship drifted toward the nose of the fighter.

What the hell are you doing? One more meter and I’ll open fire!

Walter put up his hands, but then quickly reached down and pulled the throttle back, and just as quickly put his hands up again.

Hey, we’re just here to help. He tried to back off using his knees to steer.

Shit, is that a camera? I’ll give you ten seconds to get that thing out of my face, Walter thought he spotted the dot of a laser sight.

Keep talking to him, Danica’s smooth voice said over the comm.

Hey man, it’s off, I swear. I was just responding to your distress call.

Walter caught the pilot’s name under the fighter’s canopy and their call sign, Archangel. He flipped the view over so Danica could see.

Damn, what carrier are you based off of? That’s a serious ship you’re in.

I do not require assistance from the press. You’re jeopardizing your life and mine by being here. The man’s voice held the sort of vitriol Walter was used to hearing.

Walter scanned the devastation and knew a battle had taken place here. He took in a breath to reply and sputtered when he noticed the rear airlock open. He flipped the wing camera around and spotted Danica EVA out of the ship with an emergency grapple in hand.

She fired it before he could say anything. The magnetic claw snapped onto the fighter.

Goddammit, Danica! Walter, incredulous, held on as the ship lurched around as if they’d caught a fish way too big for their boat.

I apologize. I was ready to fuck off, but my boss has other plans. He pulled the camera controls over. He set the fighter as a target and allowed the computer to handle the capture.

He took off his headset, the fighter pilot’s angry reply still audible. He curved one eyebrow and noted the fighter bore no apparent damage.

Walter pulled himself behind the pilot seat and put on his helmet, checked his O2, and flipped the helmet comms over to the ship. He peered through the hatch window. Danica left the rear hatch open, and he identified the grapple cable stretching into the black.

Jelly, goddammit, respond! Danica said.

I was putting on my helmet, cameras are still up and running.

Get drones out and capture this debris field. I want as much footage as we can squeeze in.

May I ask why you are antagonizing a heavily armed man who does not want our help? He listened to the background static and flopped his head back in mock brain death.

He reached over, pulled the drone panel out and set it to a good spot to his left. He tapped on the screen, the status, power, lens types, selected all, and launched them. He watched as they mapped and recorded the wreckage. His mouth drooped as the pattern materialized.

Entire ships were blown apart, but he could visualize the parts reassembled into a fleet.

A shower of noise rattled on the hull and snapped Walter from his daydream.

Is he shooting at us?

Jelly, could you inform the UEE pilot that we are, in fact, unarmed? Danica ordered. She didn’t say please. Civility was not high on her priorities.

Walter looked back at the command panel and spotted the blink of the other comms channel. He flipped it on.

...to help, I’ll strip your ship of every usable part I can find and leave you here.

Walter glanced around at the ship graveyard outside.

The panels looked clear, and the drones were still mapping the area.

He depressurized the front cabin and opened the back hatch. The UEE pilot held Danica’s arm with his right hand, pointing a weapon at her with the other.

Walter held up his hands and let his body turn in place. I’m not armed.

Are you happy now, Commander? Danica said, her smirk detectable over the comm.

I told you already I am not a commander. I am Lieutenant Bullard.

Bullard shouted at first, then steadied his voice.

Walter tried to place the accent but couldn’t quite nail it down. We shouldn’t be exposing these instruments to a vacuum. We need to close the back hatch.

Bullard pushed Danica in as the thrusters on his flight suit fired.

Any day now, Walter, Danica said. Walter closed the hatch, and the ship began to pressurize.

So, you’re not a commander, Commander. What flight wing are you with? Danica said in a soft silky voice. Walter tried not to roll his eyes.

Danica Star, the bird of prey, would attack in all conceivable ways to achieve her objective.

I’m not allowed to divulge that information, Bullard spoke.

Just making conversation, baby. Walter, maybe we should get some food out. Are you hungry? Danica took off her helmet and let her hair rise in the microgravity.

Walter knew the routine. She prepared her hair carefully to look great in all conditions, even zero-G. Walter pulled off his helmet and smelled a sweet spring-like scent.

Sure, Bullard answered, distracted by the elaborate mess of equipment crammed into the back of the ship, normally even more cramped with the drones mounted to the wall opposite Danica’s editing station.

Walter smirked on his way to the almost empty food bin.

If we are marooned for any reason, we’ll easily starve in hours. He pulled out a few food bars and with a gentle release, let them float over to Bullard.

Bullard held his helmet and scanned around. He caught the bars and nodded to Walter, who nodded back as though they’d met at the gym or something.

Do you often report on war zones? Bullard asked in a polite manner.

I’m a reporter baby. Jel—sorry, Walter—is just a pilot. This would normally cause Walter to call Danica a bitch, but he’d just caught what Bullard had said.

This is a war zone? At war with whom? Walter sputtered.

You just missed the battle, Bullard replied, unable to hide the scornful tone, and Vanduul still patrol this area. It’s a miracle you’ve survived this long.

Danica pulled herself to her computer station, then typed.

Vanduul? In that case, then we should go, Walter suggested.

Do you really want the story here to go untold? Our fallen comrades’ sacrifices will be for nothing? Danica asked as she typed. Walter’s stomach began to knot.

"Our comrades? You could never understand," Bullard said.

What outfit are you with? She stopped and turned her head, careful to flip her hair around. The whole thing was a calculated act that made Walter uncomfortable, but he couldn’t afford to quit. Anything and everything for the story.

Scum like you never learn, do you, Danica Star? Bullard replied, spitting out her name. The average soldier viewed Danica as a traitor, someone who would twist their stories and tell lies.

Walter cringed at the thought of what Bullard may not know.

He looked at Bullard and smiled.

Listen, we’re just doing our job. Besides, she already knows the answer.

Walter played his part.

What do you mean she knows? Bullard pointed his rifle at Walter, who put up his hands and set off tumbling.

Bullard glanced between the two as if insane. Walter grabbed a nearby bulkhead to steady himself. Danica pulled the top of her space suit off and wrapped it around her waist, leaving only a skimpy t-shirt. Walter raised an eyebrow.

Bullard wasn’t fazed.

So what outfit am I from? Bullard asked.

Well, the only carrier in the system would be the old P1G. I hope that’s not what this debris field is made of.

Bullard drifted forward and looked out the front. No, she wasn’t here.

Oh, that’s not surprising. The Captain always turns tail when the fight is more than he can— Bullard’s gun barrel interrupted Danica.

I should have killed you the moment I knew who you were. He aimed the gun sight at her.

Why didn’t you? she asked.

You’ve ended the careers of some good officers. His grip on the rifle tightened.

Kill us now and you won’t have anyone to assist you, Danica said.

You think I need assistance from the likes of you?

Danica stared into his eyes for a long moment.

You’re Lieutenant Jacques Bullard, first in your class from Terran Naval Academy, 2940. You served on Essex, stationed in Davien, and I’m guessing that’s when you met Conrad.

"That’s Captain Rhadamanthys to you," Bullard growled at Danica’s lack of respect.

He seemed even angrier to Walter.

He recruited you for his new assignment. He was to take a Pegasus-class carrier on a covert patrol of the Nyx to Oberon stretch, Danica said and without looking, she reached over, turning on a nearby screen. I got your distress call, coded, difficult to detect and meant for military comms traffic, not a reporter. I had just enough info to figure out where you were.

I don’t buy it, Bullard questioned in disbelief.

No one gave us your location, Danica said and gazed at her computer station. Walter felt that statement may not be completely true.

A light flashed on a nearby panel. Walter reached out and tapped the warning. The message log stated active scanning nearby. He scrambled to the front, and once in the cockpit, reached for the radar. A hand appearing from nowhere grabbed his wrist but an inch from the switch.

Bullard’s. Danica floated in behind him.

Whatever you do, do not turn your radar on, said Bullard.

Walter glanced at Bullard’s pale face. Bullard whispered and carefully set the radar to passive. The Vanduul will not take prisoners.

The HUD showed a half a dozen radar pings off in the distance. Danica pushed off toward the back with such force Walter felt his seat vibrate.

Walter’s breath became shallow. Danica had taught him many things, but the one thing she said repeatedly was out of all the races in the galaxy, the Vanduul were the most barbaric.

The Vanduul attacked a UEE fleet? Walter said, trying to catch his breath.

What do you think? Do you have anything else transmitting? he said in a strong, but calm voice. Walter frantically started turning off systems and lights.

He spotted the drones capturing footage and left them in a passive state. He directed the closest drone to monitor them from a distance, powering down the long-range transmitter.

Everything’s off, Dani! The cockpit went dark except for a few panels.

Everything’s off back here too, she yelled back.

So those radar sources... Walter pointed to three pulsing dots. How did you know?

Lucky guess. Bullard tapped on the pad; a radar frequency graph showed each source. That’s not a UEE pattern. Can you record this?

Um, maybe, wait. Walter pulled out a recording device and attached it to the screen. This won’t give you data, but it will at least show you the image.

The dots on the display moved in soft curves. Then he noticed a light in the distance that corresponded with one of the pings. The light shone through the bits and pieces of debris like a flashlight in a forest. He didn’t move a muscle.

Reduce your life support as much as possible, Bullard whispered.

Walter got up and opened the life