Frontier's Reach: A Space Opera Adventure (Frontiers Book 1) by Robert James (beach read TXT) 📗

Nicolas put a hand up in defiance. “Stand down!”

The Marines kept their guns raised.

Major Ripken hurried out from the other side of the silver sphere. “You heard the Captain!” he said, ordering his men to drop their arms.

“Nicolas!”

Susan walked out with another man from behind the sphere. He seemed familiar to Nicolas, but he couldn’t put his finger on why.

“You’re alive!” Susan came up to him and the pair hugged. Her tender touch filled him with relief. She let go, and the mystery man approached them.

“I’d like you to meet Professor Javier Petit,” she said.

Now Nicolas knew why he’d looked familiar. Petit was a famed scientist. He’d worked on the Mark IV FTL engine two decades earlier, among other notable projects. “Professor.”

“What happened up there, Captain?” Petit asked, getting to the point.

“We were attacked. I don’t know by who.” He stared at the object sitting like a huge Christmas tree bauble with strange markings scrawled all over it. “They’re after this, aren’t they?”

Susan and Petit shared an uneasy glance.

“I think you’ve both got some explaining to do?”

Transport Pod Maybelle

The Maybelle dropped like a rock through the atmosphere of Orion V. The ever-reliable transport pod was one of two the Argo employed when going on excursions into an atmosphere. While E-Class cargo ships were rated to do planetary insertions, considering the Argo’s age, they’d stopped asking her to do that line of work many years earlier.

To be fair, as Jason inspected the Maybelle, it wasn’t like the pod was in much better shape. The upholstery on the chairs were peeling, the helm console was coming loose from its housing, and the frayed straps were digging into his rib cage. The ride was far from luxurious with every bump vibrating through the transport pod’s cabin.

I really shouldn’t have drunk all that bourbon.

He turned to Tyler and Althaus who were strapped in their seats at the rear of the pod. His uncle appeared a little queasy, though he was doing his best to hide it.

“How are you feeling over there, Althaus?” Jason tormented him.

“Shut up.”

Jason smiled.

As the Maybelle dropped farther, the creaks and groans of the craft increased. The hull seemed to twist and bend around them. But just as Jason wanted to vomit up the remnants of Blue Jacket, the pod broke through the lowest cloud layer and smoothed out. The viewport filled with the barren, brown surface of Orion V.

Imagining Althaus’s sphincter tightening, Jason pulled up, slightly later than he would normally. The engine roared, and the Maybelle’s nose pointed perpendicular to the surface, not even fifty meters before the ground. Behind him Althaus’s jaw clenched, while Tyler just rolled his eyes. The pod skimmed above the ground, weaving around rock formations and over the larger mountain ranges.

Then it appeared at the center of a large valley.

“How is that building still standing?” Tyler wondered, getting their first glimpse at the mining facility. The images from above hadn’t done it justice. It’d been pounded into submission.

Jason peered down at the scanners. “The vessel our friends in orbit sent down has landed near the central complex.”

“Have they detected us?”

Jason shrugged. “If they have, they don’t seem to give a crap.”

“Okay, find us somewhere to set us down. The quicker we get this done, the better.”

 Jason surveyed the surface. The treacherous environment would make landing a craft difficult, but he managed to find a touchdown point half a kilometer away from the shaft cap.

The thrusters fired, and the Maybelle gently maneuvered downward and to the right of two sizeable rock formations, landing with little more than a thump.

The trio climbed into their EV suits, and Tyler cranked open the side airlock, unleashing a blast of freezing cold air upon them. Luckily the protection of their suits shielded them from the elements.

Jason stepped off first and waited for Althaus to follow. “Surprised yours still fits anymore,” Jason said to him.

“Come on, let’s find this shaft entrance,” Tyler interjected, joining the pair before they could spill any more bad blood.

Twenty-One

Decium Ore Mining Facility - Orion V

“What happened to the Vanguard?”

The object continued to mesmerize Nicolas so much, he’d barely heard Susan’s question. Its exterior was almost reflective. And the writing on it peculiar. While he was no history buff, he remembered seeing images similar to them back in high school during archaeology classes. They were like pictographs found on stones dug up from civilizations that existed on Earth thousands of years in the past.

“I’m not sure,” he said. “Our communications were jammed when they attacked.”

“Commander Perera is an excellent first officer.” She put a comforting hand on his arm. “He’ll have got the crew to safety.”

Nicolas hoped she was right.

“Did you find any other survivors on your way here?” Petit asked.

Nicolas shook his head. He sensed Petit’s guilt as he turned his head toward Susan. He walked over to the sphere and touched it, expecting it to be cold like ice, but instead, it was soft. Not reminiscent of a metal at all.

He glanced at his ex-wife. “So, are you going to answer my question or not? Whoever attacked, was it because of this?” He didn’t like speaking to her in that tone, but he wanted answers.

Petit stepped forward in her place. “While it’s the most logical answer, no one could be aware of the artifact’s existence. Ever since its discovery, every transmission that’s left Orion V was screened and all communications regarding the sphere encoded.”

“Well, someone knows. Do you have any idea who the attackers are?”

“Believe me when I say I don’t.”

Nicolas pondered. Whoever attacked were surely after the object. “It’s time you told me everything about this artifact, Professor.”

“Captain, you know as well as I that this is a classified project.” Petit hesitated. “Your clearance isn’t—”

“Not good enough, Professor.” Nicolas strode toward Petit, backing him up against the sphere.

The older man shrank with the long shadow cast over him.

“Nicolas!” Susan put a hand on his shoulder, but he ignored her, staring daggers at Petit.

“I don’t give a damn