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  The Arwen

  Timothy Callahan

  Published by SpringBrook Digital

  Copyright 2010 Timothy Callahan

  Ebook Edition, License Notes:

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to SpringBrookaudio.com/catalog and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  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 Echlites. 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 Lanssing 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?”

  “An 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 battlecruiser, 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 compliment 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 compellation 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 mean time, 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 and 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 planed 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 the
y 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?”