The Arwen: Defender: The Arwen, #1

By Timothy P. Callahan

Introducing "The Arwen Book One: Defender," a thrilling series of interconnected novellas that will immerse you in a universe shaped by the enigmatic Gyssyc, an otherworldly race whose actions bind the destinies of three distinct worlds.

"The Arwen: Regal" sets the stage with a gripping tale of redemption and danger. Captain Marjorie Cook, commanding the renowned starship Arwen, seizes an opportunity to right the wrongs of her past. Assigned to destroy a colossal comet hurtling towards the distant world of Regal, she soon discovers that the mission holds unexpected and perilous surprises.

In "The Arwen: Ulliam," tensions escalate when the Gyssyc's presence triggers devastation above the planet Ulliam. As Captain Cook navigates a mystery shrouded in interstellar conflict, the fate of multiple civilizations teeters on a precarious edge. Can the crew of the Arwen uncover the truth before impending catastrophe strikes?

Prepare for the ultimate showdown in "The Arwen: Armada" as the Earth Alliance faces a looming threat. Vice Admiral Payton Cook undertakes the monumental task of defending Earth against an alliance between old adversaries and the formidable armada they've assembled. Meanwhile, Captain Cook battles against a deadly surprise attack to save Ulliam, racing against time and overwhelming odds.

"Regal," an award-winning novella, serves as a testament to the series' excellence, having clinched the prestigious 2007 Parsec award. Join this enthralling journey through space, where valor, intrigue, and the bonds between worlds collide in a saga that will keep you riveted from start to finish.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Timothy P. Callahan
• Release date: Dec 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223337492

Book preview

The Arwen: Defender

by

Timothy P. Callahan

* * * * *

PUBLISHED BY:

Timothy P. Callahan

The Arwen: Defender

Copyright © 2009 by Timothy P. Callahan

For more information, please visit www.timothypcallahan.com

Book One

Regal

Chapter One

The energy beam ripped through the Arwen’s port side hull like a welding torch. The ship shuddered as atmosphere, equipment, and crew tumbled out of control into space.

The scene on the monitor faded, leaving Captain Marjorie Cook alone in the darkened room. She watched the footage hundreds of times before today. She'd lost men in war, but never so close to home and never because of a critical mistake. It took weeks to track them all down. Weeks of floating in absolute zero does strange things to the human body. Skin crystallizes and shatters. Eyes freeze into delicate ice balls. She told their parents they died with honor and dignity. It was a lie, but it was something a grieving mother wanted to hear.

Captain Cook grabbed her dark blue beret and placed it on. She was shorter than most captains, something the other male officers never let her forget. The best way to compensate for her portly, five-foot-three frame was to carry herself as if she were seven feet tall. Years of bloodshed had caused many wrinkles and lines to form on her face. Her ex-husband called them character lines; her mom called them worry lines. But Marjorie preferred to call them experience lines—they told the tale of her life better than the many medals on her uniform.

She grabbed the computer from her desk table, tucked it under her arm, stood from her chair, and walked out of her office toward the inquiry meeting. She hated space station gravity; it seemed to pull her down more than the somewhat lighter gravity of the Arwen. She did her best to keep a rigid posture as she walked down the busy hallways of Freedman Station.

She wasn't sure how she wanted the inquiry to go. Marjorie loved being a captain and, above that, she loved being the captain of the Arwen. It was a fine ship before she took it over and she wanted to keep that tradition alive. For twenty years she'd done that, and now they could take it away from her. A part of her couldn't let go of the people who died and losing her command would be a fitting punishment.

Captain Cook wasn't used to the butterflies she felt in her stomach as she reached Admiral Norrin's office. She had known the admiral for many years and considered him a friend. In battle she found there was no one better at preparing the fleets with a pitch perfect battle plan. He wasn't the best in the intense heat of conflict—but when executed well, his strategies did not demand too much modification.

She stood outside his office and took a deep breath before knocking. Come in, Captain Cook, he said, and she opened the door. Admiral Norrin sat behind his desk. Unlike her dark blue uniform, the admiral wore an all-white uniform with a skinny black tie. His gray, thinning hair was just thick enough to form a shallow, nearly transparent part. He smiled and motioned to the chair in front of him. Afternoon, Captain. Please take a seat.

Thank you, sir.  She sat down, placed the computer on her lap, and waited while he proceeded to read a report. She looked around, glancing at the picture of his flagship, the Milgard, in orbit around a shimmering Earth. Pictures of him with various presidents, both Earthly and alien, stared back at her. Numerous diplomas, degrees, and decorations were proudly displayed. A cabinet held dozens of trophies (mostly for his legendary golfing skills) along with several well-earned medals for the battles he fought.  

Admiral Norrin folded his hands. Captain Cook noticed his lips were slightly curled, as if trying not to smile. She sensed he wasn't going to be hostile toward her, but that could be a part of the inquiry—something subtle to throw her off into making a mistake. She was going to tell him the facts about what happened and then let him decide what to do. To Marjorie, it was that simple. I'm happy to report the repairs on the Arwen are almost complete, and she's ready to head back out into space.

That’s good news, sir. I hope she wasn’t too much trouble.

Hardly.  He smiled. But she was damaged a lot more than we initially thought. Whatever weapon the Hellamites used was powerful.

You have confirmed it was the Hellamites?

Norrin nodded. They’re the only ones at war with us. They know they’ll lose but are going to try to take as many of our ships out as they can.

Cook squirmed in her chair, uncomfortable. She hated small talk. Their first target was the Arwen? That’s a pretty big target.

He nodded in agreement. We believe it was just a target of opportunity. They could easily have hit another ship passing through; you were just unlucky.

I see, she replied. Admiral, thank you for keeping me up to date on the investigation, but I believe that I’m not here to talk about that.

You always were one to cut to the chase. His friendly smile faded as he quickly scanned over the report on his computer screen. I know what this says, but I need to hear it from you. Tell me what happened out there. Why weren't your shields up, and why didn't you go to yellow alert when you saw the announcement of Hellamite activity in your area?

I never read the report about the Hellamites, sir.  She remembered receiving fifty reports when they came out of the wormhole. Fifty reports, none of them marked urgent. They had just come back from a long stint in dead space, ferreting out the last remnants of the Ecollites. It was a two-year mission in a dark matter cloud, a zone where very little starlight could penetrate, an area with no worlds or suns to speak of. She was happy to be coming home. Home was a place she could relax and not worry about war.

You never read, or you never got them?

I got them … I just didn't read them. Sherradon, my communications officer, never gave me any indication a report was critical. I'll never know why, because he was one of the men killed in the attack. When I looked back at the logs it was marked urgent when it came in, he just never alerted me to that fact. I don't blame him; I blame myself for ignoring the messages.

Placing his folded hands under his chin, he let out a sigh. That’s bad, Captain.

She tried to ignore the pain that she felt in her gut. She remembered too clearly the feeling of helplessness as the energy beam sliced through the hull. She remembered the horror as her view screen showed bodies flying into space. The beam penetrated three decks and exposed the sleeping, eating, and recreation areas. Most of the people who died never knew what hit them. I know, sir.

You freely admit that you didn’t read the reports, but why did you have your shields down while going through the Oort cloud?

She cleared her throat. During our trip, the engine developed an energy leak. You can see it in the official report. I felt that we were safe traveling down the Lansing corridor and decided to save some energy for the last wormhole jump.

Not uncommon for a ship to travel down the corridor without its shields, but had you read the announcement you would have had them up?

If I had read the report I’d have had them up and would have placed the ship on yellow alert, yes, sir.

So what it all comes down to is that you didn't read the Hellamites were sighted in the area.

She nodded. That is correct, sir.

He stood from his seat and paced around his desk, hands clasped behind his back. So much death for such a small error in judgment. You’re a great captain, Marjorie, and we can’t lose you. Not while we are so close to establishing peace with all our enemies.

You can get a new captain for the Arwen if you feel the need to replace me. My second in command, Kel, would love that chance.

Kel is a very capable man. But he’s not you.

She cocked her head to the side, trying to figure out what he was telling her. Sir, I still don’t understand.

He sat back down and handed her the small computer on his desk. I want you to read this report. 

She quickly scanned the report. The Regals? Aren’t they a small, backward world?

Yes, they are, and we’ve had limited contact with them. We want them to join the Earth Alliance eventually.

What does this have to do with the Arwen? she asked.

A comet the scale of Pluto's moon, Charon, is on a collision course with the planet Regal. If it hits, it'll destroy everything and everyone who can't get off.

Captain Cook skimmed quickly through the report to find the section he was talking about. They didn't detect it until now?

As extraordinary as it sounds, no. They don't know where it came from. They don't have an Oort cloud like we do. We believe it came from another system into theirs.

So that's the Arwen's new mission? There are a lot of other captains who can do this—why me? We could dispatch a carrier or even a heavy cruiser, so why a battle cruiser?

We can't just send any ship; it needs to be the Arwen, and it needs to be you. The report will disclose it all.

Does that mean I get to maintain my command?

For now it does. I want you to know, Captain, if it weren't for this mission, I might have a different answer for you. There's more than one person who would love to see you lose your command. I'm not one of them. I can't promise you’ll have the Arwen when you get back, but until this mission is over, she's all yours.

Chapter Two

Marjorie’s shuttle banked to the left as it approached the docked Arwen. No matter how many times she saw her ship, it never failed to take her breath away. The Arwen, a Tolkien class battle cruiser, had an elegant cone shape which helped in deflecting most laser and missile attacks. Its surface had been polished to mirrored perfection, and she could clearly see the reflection of the shuttle as it approached.

She instructed the pilot to take her around the Arwen so she could give it a visual inspection. A long, slightly discolored swath marked the spot where the energy beam had sliced through the hull. Anyone unfamiliar with the Arwen might not have even noticed. But she knew the ship better than anyone—so to her, it seemed a blatant scar that would never heal. It reflected the scar on her own heart and she gave a silent apology to her ship.

The pilot worked his way around the massive docking station that surrounded the ship as scaffolding might enfold a newly renovated church. Workers, nothing more than tiny, floating specks against the Arwen’s massive hull, continued to fix her ship.

Okay, pilot, you can dock now. I’m finished with the inspection.

Small thrusters stopped the ship’s momentum while another set of thrusters pushed it toward the Arwen’s docking arms.

The shuttle connected to the docking tube. Marjorie thanked the pilot, stood and walked over to the door. She waited a few moments for the air to pressurize. It felt as if she had returned home.

The Arwen had a smell unlike any other ship she’d been on. She theorized it was because each one had a different complement of human and alien, and the individual body odors eventually mixed to give each ship its own distinct smell and personality. The Arwen smelled what an old museum might smell like after fifteen years of shuffling people back and forth. The hallways were filled with the ghosts of old friends.

She barely had time to enjoy the feeling of home when Commander Kel Lipton approached and saluted her. Kel was a fine commander and someone whose judgment she trusted without question. At six feet seven inches tall, he towered over her. He had a dark complexion and, oddly enough, a slight reddish tint to his skin, as was common for those born on Mars. Captain Cook, welcome back. The Arwen has been waiting for you.

Thank you, Commander Lipton, she replied. We have a new mission I’d like to discuss with you today.

I have free time right now if you’d like.

No, that’s fine. I want to take a walk around my ship to see how things are going. We’ll discuss it later.

Yes, sir, Kel replied with a salute. In the meantime, I’m going to do some inspecting myself to make sure we’re in shape to leave.

Don’t be too hard on the crew. We’ve had a rough couple of months.

I’ll only work them as hard as I need too, then maybe a bit more.  He smiled, dropped the salute, and hurried away, leaving Marjorie alone in the hallway.

She missed her ship. During the investigation she hadn’t been allowed near the Arwen or any of the crew members they were interviewing. It made sense; if the crew thought she might retaliate against them, they wouldn’t be as forthcoming with any information. It made her feel isolated. Now, here she was, walking the blue carpeted hallways nodding at the people she passed. She couldn’t help but run her hand against the wall, caressing it like lovers sharing an intimate touch. This wasn’t just another ship; it was a part of her. She couldn’t remember what her life had been like before she’d taken the Arwen and its crew under her wing. She made it to her cabin and walked in. All was as she remembered it. Her glistening inky black desk reflected light from all around the room. A small screen slowly rose from the middle of the desk as the computer sensed her walking toward the chair. She wasn’t much for decorations, but the few she had, she treasured. Pictures of her with her father as well as awards for bravery and gallant actions hung on the gray wall behind the desk.    

All the awards could soon mean nothing if she lost her ship. Admiral Norris seemed keen on making sure that she didn’t lose command of the Arwen, and for that she was grateful. Now, it was time to find out more about the mission and what part the Arwen had to play in it.

~*~

Marjorie walked into the conference room and paused to familiarize herself with it again. This room held many great memories and a few harsh ones. She planned many assaults in here. An ebony table stretched the length of the room and could easily fit all twenty members of her senior staff. In front of the seats were small computers which could be viewed easily. She sat at the head of the conference room table with several empty chairs across from her. Waiting for Kel to arrive, she read the report one last time.

The door opened, and in walked Commander Lipton. He smiled at her in an informal way that only a person who had been through life and death with someone could. Captain.

Commander, take a seat please.

He pulled out a chair next to her and sat down. I read the report you sent me. The Regals are a rather interesting race, aren’t they?

If by interesting you mean complicated, then yes.

He smiled. Yes, I mean complicated.

That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. What my report didn’t tell you was why the Arwen and I were chosen for this mission. But first, let’s review what we do know about them.

Kel sat back in his chair and crossed his legs. He held up his small computer and read his notes. They have a pack-like mentality about dominance and submission.

Exactly. And right now there are two races fighting for dominance over the planet: the Pullma and the Jerrasic.

According to the reports I read, the Pullma want to join Earth, and the Jerrasic are dead set against it. So much so that they threatened to go to war should the Pullma pursue it.

That was before the comet arrived. Now the entire planet is asking for our help, except the Jerrasic, who think they can destroy the comet themselves.

Can they? Kel asked.

They have a pretty powerful fleet, but we don’t think they can. They’re going to tell you something different, but I believe they’re not even sure. What it boils down to is this: the Jerrasic think they can destroy the comet themselves; they probably can’t, and somehow the Pullma diplomat convinced the Jerrasic to let us try.

If we succeed, then we’ll be the stronger power and the Jerrasic will be forced to accept us. If we fail, then the Pullma will see we’re not as strong as we say we are and pull out.

Marjorie nodded. Right. That’s why we need to go there.

They could send any ship . . . why us?

A faint smile appeared on her lips. Well, it appears the reputation of the Arwen precedes us.

How so?

Remember the battle of Nullcure?

How can I forget? We took out an entire star base with very little damage. You were magnificent in that battle.

Thank you. The entire crew was. But, it appears that word of that battle got to Regal. In fact, it’s one of the main reasons the Pullma want to join; they see us as being stronger than anything they have. The diplomat thought it would be a good sign if this ship saved the planet from destruction. Seems more symbolic than anything else.

Symbols can be powerful. I can understand why they want to do that. But this should be a pretty quick and easy mission.

I sure hope so. If something this simple can help me regain the confidence from my superiors, I’ll take it.

Is it that bad? You know I want the Arwen, but I want her after you retire, not after they make you a sacrificial lamb.

I guess we’ll just have to see, won’t we?  She wanted Kel to have the ship one day, but, as he said, not like this. I guess we’re caught up. Shall we go meet with Professor Ricter then?

Wasn’t he supposed to come to the meeting? 

She shook her head. No. He wants to make sure all his equipment is calibrated correctly before our wormhole jump so he can re-calibrate it when we get there.

Kel raised one eyebrow, He seems pretty practical. I can’t wait to meet him.

~*~

Professor Theo Ricter paced around his small lab, cursing the two younger scientists who had joined him. My god, a planet is on the brink of destruction and the Corps sends me two children?

The woman, he couldn’t recall her name, fumed. Professor, Thomas and I are more than capable of helping you.

He did nothing to hide his contempt for the young, tall, blond woman. If he were a few dozen years younger he might find her attractive. Surely she had the traits most men look for. Not him, he gave up relationships a long time ago—back when he’d realized there was no one that could be his equal. Oh, you think so? Do you really think you can assist me?

We’re not here to assist you. We’re here to work with you, she said with fire in her voice.

No, you two are here to assist me in my work. If I want you to get a cup of coffee, you’ll get it for me. If I want you to blow my nose, you’ll do that too.

The man—Thomas, he believed the girl called him—kept his eyes lowered to the floor. Professor Ricter knew just from looking at him that he was weak and would be of no help on this mission. His hair, curly and dark, seemed to grow like runaway weeds from his head. It was the fashion amongst the younger generation to do wild, unprofessional things with one’s hair. It showed just how immature he really was. No respectable scientist would look this way.

I have no time to babysit you two. It appears that I have no choice but to use you, so I’m going to make this one point very, very clear. I’m the boss, you two are my workers, and you will do as I tell you.

The girl, he suddenly recalled her name as being Doctor Francis Mercury, gave him a dirty look. He knew she was fighting within herself. On the one hand, she was young and could not dictate what she worked on. When forced to work with a superior she didn’t like she had no choice but to back down. On the other hand, she was working with the most brilliant mind in the fleet and should feel privileged to work next to him.

At least that’s how he saw it.

Okay, she replied in what seemed like a controlled attempt to not explode in a fit of anger. What do you need us to do?

Do you know how to calibrate instruments?

One of the first things they taught us, she said.

I sure hope you didn’t go to one of the fly by night school like Mars Tech. I need you two to help me calibrate the instruments. When we get out of wormhole space, I know it’ll ruin them, so we need a baseline as to where they should be before we start using them. Do you think you can deal with that, Thomas?  He looked at the young man, curious if he could even speak.

Yes, sir, he replied weakly.

Son, if you’re going to survive working with me, you need to speak up! God, I can’t believe they sent you two to me!

The door to the lab opened, and a short woman and a very tall black man walked in the room. The woman held herself high, as if trying to will herself to be taller than she really was. The man didn’t need to do that as he ducked slightly to avoid hitting his head on the door frame. He tried to recall what the uniforms meant and was pretty sure the woman was Captain Cook and the large black man was her second in command. Morning, Professor, how are things going today? Cook asked.

Not so great. I asked for some help and they sent me two kids fresh out of school. How can I save a planet with this kind of help?

She smirked and looked over at her tall companion. You’re not here to save the planet, Professor; you’re only here to study the comet so that you can give us the best chance of destroying it.

Exactly. And without my help how do you plan on destroying it?

We have more than enough firepower to destroy the comet. We just need you and your assistants to help us determine the most efficient way.

She was either lying or in denial. He had read reports on the comet, and its sheer size promised it would take unimaginable firepower to destroy it. He was sure that, given enough time, the Arwen could destroy it; but time wasn’t on their side. The comet was going to hit in thirty standard days time, and it was going to take the Arwen about twenty-eight days to reach the system, assuming the old ship could make it out that far without breaking down. Face it, Captain, you need me more than you’ll admit.

Her look, which he assumed was amused, changed. She looked at him with fiery eyes now. Maybe he had taken the conversation too far. Don’t underestimate me, Professor; I’m not afraid to get another, less arrogant person to take your place. It’s not too late for that.

He had to back down. She was right. He couldn’t push himself on her too quickly. When they were in wormhole space and she couldn’t replace him, he could let himself go. But not now. I apologize, Captain; I did not mean to insult you or the Arwen. It’s a fine ship with a very long and distinguished history. Given time I might even find myself proud to have served on it.

Once again a faint smile appeared on her face. That’s it, Theo, he thought, stroke her ego and she’ll go away. Thank you, Professor. I’ll let you three get on with your work. If you need anything, just let me know.

Thank you, Captain. I do have one question: when are we leaving? The sooner we make it to the comet the sooner we can get to work.

All repairs are finished, and we’ll be leaving within the hour.

In that case, I’m going to need to assist my own assistants in getting the instruments ready. So if you’ll excuse me.

Captain Cook and her second in command nodded and left.

~*~

Captain Cook took a seat in her command chair. It felt secure under her body, like an old lover welcoming her back into his embrace. This was where she had longed to be while the investigation slowly moved toward an end. The seat was placed in the middle of the bridge and raised above the rest of the bridge crew. That way, she could observe them without any obstructions.

Kel walked around to each member of the team, making sure they were working hard and all the data was correct. Kel would not sit until the jump, then only for as long as he was needed.

Commander, what’s the status? Captain Cook asked.

Ready to leave the dock, he said.

Navigator, take us out.

The Arwen pulsated under her as its engines came to life. The thrumming vibration seemed to match the beating of her racing heart. Gravity shifted slightly, pushing her back into the chair. It was as if Arwen were telling her to sit back, relax, everything is as it should be. Space dock cleared, Kel said, hovering over the navigator’s shoulder. Particle accelerator running at one hundred percent. Strangelet count at nine percent max.

The Arwen shuddered and several alarms sounded. Report, Captain Cook ordered.

Nothing critical, Captain, Kel said, running over to another station. Just the accelerator being cranky. Fifty percent strangelet count, thirty seconds until wormhole creation.

Open the cone, Marjorie said.

The ship’s cone opened like a blossoming flower. The particle accelerator hummed louder, its harmonic pitch reaching a range human ears couldn’t hear. Billions upon billions of heavy metal particles crashed into each other near the speed of light. A millisecond later a strangelet, particles found normally in the heart of a black hole, spontaneously burst into existence. A nanosecond later an unstoppable chain reaction turned the other particles into strangelets. A powerful magnetic field grabbed the cluster and compressed them together. A microscopic hole ripped through the fabric of time and space.

Cone opened, wormhole formed, Kel said.

Tell the crew to brace for the wormhole jump, Marjorie ordered.

Another gate in the particle accelerator opened and forced particles of inert gas into the magnetic field. The strangelets holding the wormhole together fed off the gas, turning the particles into strangelets, increasing the size of the wormhole. The lights blinked out for a second. We have a wormhole creation in the drive; ejecting it into space.

The Arwen threw the micro wormhole into space on a magnetized rail. It radiated as bright as a star, eating any stray matter it passed over. Arwen’s cone closed and from the tip continued to feed the hungry beast with gas. It expanded, brighter, larger, and hungrier.

Wormhole seventy-five percent in size. The Arwen will enter in ten seconds. Ninety percent and growing.

Marjorie gripped her chair tightly. Even after twenty years and several thousand jumps, it still made her uneasy to enter a wormhole. She had heard stories of ships entering and never coming out the other end.

Arwen moved closer. Light bent around it as if trying to avoid a dangerous space. On the other side was nothingness. An empty universe whose only purpose seemed to be to allow those smart enough to find it passage to worlds they would never be able to visit otherwise. The ship entered and disappeared from reality.

Chapter Three

Marjorie did her best to ignore Professor Ricter. Every day she woke to find several requests, complaints, or general ideas on how to make the ship better. She had came to the conclusion he loved to hear the sound of own voice and spoke whatever thought came into his head without the benefit of filter. She felt sorry for his two assistants. She swore they had a thousand yard stare in their eyes whenever they had to endure another brutal day in that man’s company.

The Arwen thrummed under her feet as she walked the hallways. The crew, especially the new members, had gotten used to the idea she liked to wander around the ship at all hours of the day and night. She knew how it looked to the rookies, and they would tense up as she monitored them. She always detected a smile from the veterans who knew her patterns. It was on one of her nightly walks when she heard the shrill, annoying voice of Professor Ricter calling her name. She did her best to ignore him, hoping he’d give up. He was, however, very persistent. Captain Cook, I need to talk to you!

The two stood in the quiet hallway. It was around twenty-three hundred hours and most of the day shift had gone to bed. The night shift would be a skeleton crew. Yes, Professor, how can I help you?

You didn’t answer several of my requests. I was hoping to discuss them with you if you had minute.

She did her best to remember which one of the many requests came in that morning, but was at a loss. I’m sorry, Professor, I’m very busy. I’ll do my best to get to them tonight, I promise.

She tried to walk away but he kept in step with her down the hallway. My lab is way too cold. I did a test today and found the cold has warped several of the mirrors on my scopes by three millimeters. Now, I know that it doesn’t seem like a lot, but those are vital instruments and I can’t calibrate them every morning.

It wasn’t an unreasonable complaint and if it was the only thing he complained about she might pay some attention to it. As it was, Marjorie had had more than enough of this annoying man. I’m sorry, but at night we drop the temperature a few degrees; it helps people sleep better.

Surely you can make an exception for my lab. Perhaps you could install an individual thermostat?

No, I can’t. She stopped and did her best not to growl when she talked. Professor, in less than a day we’ll be coming out of wormhole space, and I’m sure you’ll be too busy to worry about three millimeters.

Please, Captain, don’t make it sound as if my requests aren’t important, because they are.

Yes, they are important. To you, she thought. "But I will not bend to your every wish. I am the captain of this ship, and