Reckoning in the Stars: Eclipsed Blade

By daniel sharpe

"In the vast cosmos, Ayumi and Cricket embark on an interstellar odyssey, battling danger and chaos. With their ship damaged, they navigate challenges in a small town, leading Ayumi to guard a mysterious cargo on a perilous train journey. Faced with ruthless foes and a town in turmoil, Ayumi's journey unfolds into a gripping tale of courage, deceit, and triumph. Join Ayumi, a fierce warrior with cutting-edge technology, as she fights for freedom and repairs her ship, ready to soar into the cosmic unknown. A thrilling spacefaring adventure awaits, filled with resilience and destiny."

• Language: English
• Publisher: daniel sharpe
• Release date: Feb 8, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224237272

Book preview

Chapter One: Fractured Skies

The cockpit glowed with the light of monitors as Ayumi deftly guided the Tempest through space. She allowed herself a faint smile. Out here in the cosmic sea, piloting felt like meditation. Her hands danced with practiced precision across the console, adjusting trajectories and system outputs based on muscle memory honed over countless years of piloting experience. The faint hum of engines and the occasional beep of scanners formed a familiar, almost meditative background soundtrack.

Cricket, the ever-watchful robot, hovered quietly nearby. Its optic sensors dilated and contracted with calm precision as it monitored the ship's navigation systems. She settled back in her seat, allowing herself a small smile. Out here in the cosmic sea, piloting the Tempest felt like meditation. No crowds, no bustling ports or traffic control operators hassling her. Right now, it was just her, Cricket, and the vastness of space.

However, her attention was caught as the control panel lights abruptly flickered, disrupting the serene moment. She frowned, sitting up straighter, as the sensors emitted a strange warbling tone that she had never heard before. Serenity shattered. She gripped the controls tighter, cursing under her breath. Adrenaline flooded her veins. They needed to move now! Warning lights flashed ominously, and the ship trembled in response to an unseen disturbance.

What is it? she demanded, even as the first sirens wailed, shattering the quiet ambiance. Something was very wrong. The ship trembled around them, reacting to an anomaly that seemed to have materialized out of nowhere. Shei met Cricket's bright optic sensor, worry gnawing her gut. This trip was supposed to be easy. Why did trouble always find her?

Sensors show a rather alarming class 4 spatial anomaly directly in our path! Cricket exclaimed in clear tones, waving its arms fretfully as it checked the screens.

Ayumi cursed under her breath, sweat beading on her forehead as she quickly adjusted controls to steer the Hanami Tempest away from the impending danger. However, the distortions only escalated, sending violent tremors through the ship's superstructure. Gripping the controls tightly, she felt the unnatural forces vibrating through the deck plating. It became clear that running away was no longer an option. They'd have to ride it out.

Strap in, Cricket, it's gonna get rough, she ordered tersely, securing her own restraints while the ship juddered and groaned around them like a living thing in distress. Cricket warbled acknowledgement, retracting its appendages and magnetizing to the deck.

The Hanami Tempest suddenly lurched, flinging her hard against the straps as acceleration skyrocketed. She felt her stomach drop sickeningly. Klaxons blared deafeningly, and sparks erupted from overloaded systems, filling the cockpit with the acrid stench of scorched metal and ozone. She desperately fought to maintain control, rerouting power reserves to stabilize their violent trajectory. However, the anomaly’s forces proved too strong, cascading explosions rupturing the hull in multiple sections.

The cockpit filled with smoke, stinging her eyes and throat. She coughed harshly, struggling to see the controls through watering eyes. Damage alarms blared as the ship convulsed. She growled in frustration, fighting to keep them stable. How much more could they take?

We've been breached! Cricket announced over the din, its voice taut with worry. Multiple failures detected in propulsion and life support!

Clenching the shaking controls with white-knuckled hands, she rapidly assessed the situation. Most systems had been fried or were close to it. They couldn't withstand much more of this pummeling. The ship’s normally smooth ride now felt like a wild bronco trying to buck them off. Gritting her teeth in determination, she quickly slammed the emergency stop. An abrupt, bone-jarring deceleration threw her forward; only the restraints kept her from flying out of the seat. For several heartbeats, the ship creaked and groaned dangerously around them, pieces of the ceiling clattering down.

Then, blessedly, the chaos and noise subsided. The gravitational distortions eased off even as warning lights continued to flash ominously. Aside from the muted emergency systems and Cricket's movements, an eerie silence fell. Ayumi straightened with a grimace, gingerly testing bruised limbs. She ran a soot-stained hand over her face, wiping away sweat. How much damage had they taken?

Cricket, run diagnostics and start repairs, she rasped, her throat raw from inhaled smoke. She disengaged her restraints and winced as she stood up, her side throbbing where the straps had dug in painfully. Likely bruised ribs, but she could still move well enough. She grabbed a portable damage scanner and headed into the darkened corridors of the ship.

Crimson emergency lighting cast the narrow passageways in an ominous red glow. Acrid smoke hazed the air, stinging her nose with each breath. The deck plating trembled faintly beneath her boots—the reverberations of damaged engines and compartments exposed to space. She quickly swept the scanner around, examining readout data on the cracked screen. The situation was about as bad as she expected. Multiple hull breaches, several small fires now extinguished, backup generators barely clinging to life. She pursed her lips tightly. They were damn lucky to have survived that anomaly intact.

Rounding a corner, she slowed abruptly. A tangled mess of ruptured pipes and conduit blocked the corridor, leaking fluids across the floor. She carefully squeezed past the obstruction, ignoring the complaints of her bruised ribs. The passage ahead was even darker, only a few emergency lights still functioning. Her footsteps echoed off metal walls scorched from explosions. The cloying stench of melted circuits and burnt lubricants clung heavily to the air, coating her throat and lungs with each breath.

Up ahead, she noticed a darker tangle cluttering the passage. Drawing closer, her throat constricted—it was a mess of severed wiring and fiber optics, still jagged from the detonation that tore it loose. The naked wires spat fitful sparks into the hazy air like tiny lighting strikes. she slowed, swallowing hard as she nudged some fragments with her boot. She vividly recalled huddling against a bulkhead, clutching a tearful Cricket close as explosions rocked the ship...but she roughly shoved the memories down. Now wasn't the time to dwell on old wounds.

Forcing herself to continue, she eventually reached the ship's small med bay. It was dark, the door panel fused into permanent lockdown mode. With a scowl, she pried off the panel covering the wires and circuitry beneath. Carefully selecting two damaged wires, she touched them together, creating a small spark. The door screeched open halfway with a protesting whine before sticking fast. Gritting her teeth, she squeezed through the narrow gap into the pitch black room. Her fingers blindly groped about until they closed on the familiar shape of a med kit. Got it. She quickly slipped back out into the dim corridor.

Ayumi returned to the cockpit, nursing bruised ribs, med kit in hand. The smell of burnt metal still lingered like a foul mist. Cricket paused in its repairs, optics scanning her up and down. Ayumi, you have sustained damage!

I'll be fine, she grunted dismissively, stifling a groan as she sank into her seat. Cricket gave an anxious whistle, but she shook her head. Worry about the ship.

She flipped open the med kit with shaking hands, fumbling for a loaded syringe. The injection burned going in, but soon a blissful wave of pain relief spread through her body.

She tossed the used syringe back into the med kit with a clatter. What's our status? she asked Cricket tersely, blinking smoke from her eyes.

The robot gave a low, apprehensive whistle as it checked system readouts. Long-range communications are still down. Navigation is limited. The FTL drive suffered a cascade overload; it will require extensive repairs before it can be safely engaged again. Cricket extended a dexterous arm to tap the display screen, showing the ship's many damaged sections glowing angry red. Multiple hull breaches remain sealed only by emergency force-fields. On-board reserves of power, air, water, and supplies are adequate, but cannot sustain us indefinitely.

She absorbed this grim report in silence, her expression stony. Getting stranded out here, light-years from the nearest port, was a constant risk. But that anomaly's damage had ensured their precarious situation. She studied the screens intently, mind racing. Their options were severely limited.

Staying put was not an option; the anomaly could return at any moment. And with the FTL drive down, they lacked their key method of jumping significant distances. Her eyes flicked over scans of nearby systems, rapidly calculating. There—a habitable planet within range.

Set a course for Astrion, she decided, swiveling the navigation display toward the reddish planet. We'll have to limp there using what's left of the engines and make repairs on-site before we run out of supplies.

Understood, Cricket acknowledged, inputting the coordinates. Its optic studied her with concern. But Captain, given the extensive system damage, even reaching Astrion will be...difficult.

Her mouth thinned, but she gave a curt nod as she started the battered sub-light engines. We'll make it work. Failure's not an option here.

The ship rumbled unsteadily around them, only a fraction of its usual propulsion available. It would be a precarious journey on damaged engines alone. As Ayumi watched Astrion grow larger on the viewscreen, determination set