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

cold chill blew across the forest floor. Tyler had asked a superb question, one Nicolas didn’t particularly want to hang around for to find out the answer. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Transport Pod Julieanne

The moon of Psi-Aion was not unlike Earth’s natural satellite. It was barren, gray, and crater-ridden. As the Julieanne’s viewport filled with it, it reminded Jason of his childhood when the Argo would sometimes do the Earth-Luna-Mars run. There wasn’t as much to do on Luna, but he loved going down to the surface and walking on the same patch of dirt where the first astronauts had done so centuries earlier. It was overly commercialized, but they’d still done a good job of preserving the past.

Jason ran his hands over the controls doing the final calculations—he figured that the only chance he had of not being detected by whatever was on the dark side of that moon was to go in completely unpowered. To do that, he would have to do a final burn on the correct trajectory so he could slingshot from one side of the moon to the other.

The numbers on the helm all added up. With a push of a button, he punched the pod’s aft thrusters. The Julieanne lurched to the right of Psi-Aion’s moon and entered orbit. With another command, he stopped the pod’s thrust, leaving himself at the mercy of gravity.

Above his head he flicked open the pod controls and toggled every switch, including climate control. He’d have enough oxygen until he reached the other side of the moon. The interior and exterior lighting deactivated. His console dimmed, and the engine powered down. If he didn’t feel like an astronaut as a kid on the surface of Luna, he certainly did now.

With every kilometer the Julieanne rounded the moon, the pod’s cabin darkened, leaving Jason bathed in nightfall. He swiveled his chair and opened the bulkhead compartment beside him, pulling out an old coat. The lack of climate control created an instant chill. His nose upturned at the ancient piece of fashion. It smelled like Althaus’s aftershave. Jason put his pride aside and threw it on.

Continuing to round the moon, he kept his eyes peeled. After several minutes of nothing, he thought his trek had been in vain, just like it’d been when he’d reached Frontier’s Reach. He wondered if the blip had been an optical ghost. But before he doubted himself any further, it appeared, and just as large as he’d remembered it. The Seeker ship, sat in a geostationary orbit. But there was something else. He leaned forward in his seat.

Another ship?

It became clearer the closer the Julieanne got. It was painted in the same sinister black, but it was even larger than Nash’s vessel. It shared none of its characteristics. Instead, it resembled a giant cigar inside a web-like network of metal frames and supports. Jason assumed it was still under construction. Whatever it was.

He squinted at his dimmed helm controls, tossing up whether he dared turn on the scanners. He’d got halfway around the moon without being detected. But without some scans, he’d be unable to take any concrete data back to the Argo, to explain why he’d gone on his little jaunt.

Screw it.

He flicked the switch, and data started pouring across the monitor. The Julieanne shuddered and Jason peered through the viewport, wondering if he’d been hit. But he couldn’t see anything. However, the stars began moving in the wrong direction. He was being pulled. Checking the scanners, something was emanating from the new ship he’d discovered.

A tractor field?

Jason wasn’t sure, but was regardless being jerked against his will. He opened the terminal above his head and toggled every switch back on. The lights reactivated, and the engine roared to life. He punched at the helm controls and fired the Julieanne’s forward thrusters, but his course didn’t change. Whatever had him wasn’t letting go.

He fired the thrusters again and the Julieanne shook around him. Warning lights blared ominously. He’d burn the ship out if he kept it up. The small pod was fighting a much stronger force. With a push, he deactivated the thrusters and allowed fate to take its course.

Well, Nash, I guess I’ll get to see you again after all.

Thirty

Cargo Ship Argo

Aly slid out from under the main junction beneath the Argo’s FTL engine, and sat in awe. She couldn’t get over the sight of Professor Petit in her engine room. He was, after all, one of the brains behind the Mark IV drive.

“This is unbelievable.” Petit shook his head, standing over the maintenance console.

That wasn’t a word Aly had heard describe the ship for a long time.

“This Argo was originally fitted with a Mark III engine, was it not?” he asked.

Aly stood and walked over to him. “About five years ago it broke down. We picked up a secondhand Mark IV at a decent price. Took a while to iron out the kinks, but I got there in the end.”

“And you installed it yourself?”

“More or less.”

“You’ve done a great job keeping her going. E-Class cargo ships are few and far between these days.”

Aly blushed. “Thank you, Professor.”

Petit pointed to the monitor on his console. “Well, it seems like everything’s in order. Are you ready to start up the FTL engine?”

Aly studied the data herself. It seemed good from where she was standing. “Sure.”

Petit flicked the switch, and the engine reverberated, finally taking hold and sparking to life. Aly touched the side of the engine’s housing. Something was wrong. She felt it in her bones. As the vibration intensified and she grabbed hold of the nearest bulkhead. “Shut it down!”

He did as instructed, and the vibration subsided. Aly marched over to Petit, and surveyed the readings.

“What happened?” she asked him.

“I don’t know.” Petit stopped. “Wait. Look at this.” He scrolled to the relevant data.

“A blockage in the plasma exhausts?” Aly scrunched up her nose. “What could be doing that?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Whoa, what’s that?” Aly said, telling him to stop scrolling though