When the Dust Settled Read online

  When the Dust Settled

  (Shades of Grey: Book One)

  Jeannie Meekins

  Text copyright (c) Jeannie Meekins (2017)

  Published by Storm Cloud Publishing (2017)

  https://www.facebook.com/StormCloudPublishing/

  ISBN: 978-1-925285-27-7 (Kindle Edition)

  This book is copyright. Apart from any fair dealing for the purpose of study, research, criticism, review or as otherwise permitted under the Copyright Act Australia 1968 and subsequent amendments, no part may be reproduced by any process without written permission. Enquiries should be made through the publisher.

  Science fiction – space opera, action adventure

  Books in this series (so far):

  Shoulder of the Giant

  When the Dust Settled

  Contents

  Chapter one

  Chapter two

  Chapter three

  Chapter four

  Chapter five

  Chapter six

  Chapter seven

  Chapter eight

  Chapter nine

  Chapter ten

  Chapter eleven

  Chapter twelve

  Chapter thirteen

  Chapter fourteen

  Chapter fifteen

  Chapter sixteen

  Chapter seventeen

  Chapter eighteen

  Chapter nineteen

  Chapter twenty

  Chapter twenty one

  Chapter twenty two

  Chapter twenty three

  Chapter twenty four

  Chapter twenty five

  Chapter twenty six

  About the Author

  Storm Cloud ebooks

  Chapter one

  All was quiet in the external depths of space. The little ship moved silently towards its destination – a pinprick of light against the immense blackness. Inside her, the silence was unknown. A small community thrived, constantly buzzing throughout all hours of day and night. Time was only distinguishable by the hours of clocks.

  A satellite receiver projected from the top of the ship; its rectangular wings spread out from a central pole. They should have been collecting data, but something was not working.

  With a toolbox in one hand, Lieutenant Commander McReidy hung off the ladder a few metres above deck level, and looked up the inside of the long cylindrical tube. A tendril of long dark hair escaped from the neatly tied up mass and fell down forward over her face. She tried to blow it back up. A few times it reached her fringe, promising to settle there before floating back down into her face.

  She rested the toolbox on a rung and ran her hand up through her fringe, dragging the annoying tendril over and down the back of her head where it belonged.

  “Come on, Kowalski!” she called in frustration. “What’s going on up there?”

  “I don’t know,” the answer echoed back.

  “Well, I’m coming up to find out.” She lugged the toolbox to a rung at chest height, grasping the ladder side rails with her fingers for extra support and started the twenty metre climb.

  “There’s not enough room up here,” a different voice called back.

  McReidy stopped climbing, then changed her mind and continued up. The toolbox hitting the next rung and clanking of her boots announced her intentions.

  A few minutes later, she poked her head up and slung the toolbox onto the platform, then ducked instinctively as a pair of boots slid down from above her, slipping off in an easy graceful movement to deposit Kowalski on the platform.

  “Want a hand,” he grinned down at her, offering his hand.

  She bounced up a couple of rungs and swung onto the cramped platform. “No, thanks.”

  Gillespie looked up at them briefly, moved his feet, scratched his head and frowned at his scanner.

  McReidy caught her breath and ran a hand over that tendril again. “I’ve checked all the lines down there. Everything’s working properly. And I really don’t feel like a shouting match up and down this tube.”

  She leaned over Gillespie’s shoulder. “What are your readings?”

  “Keeps telling me there’s no problem.” He turned to Kowalski. “What’s it look like up there?” he nodded up the tube.

  “Well,” began Kowalski, leaning towards the centre of the tube and looking upwards. He looked as though he was barely out of his teens, with a voice to match. He avoided looking directly at someone when discussing a problem – as though the answer would materialize in front of him as he explained it. “I found a few loose circuits, but nothing that would have shut the system down like this. There’s no sign of any interference?”

  “None,” Gillespie answered, shaking his head.

  McReidy tapped her communicator. “McReidy to bridge.”

  “Bridge here, go ahead,” Captain Barrett replied.

  “Try it now, sir.”

  They waited, Kowalski still looking up the tube. Gillespie scrunched along the wall as McReidy climbed over the top of him to get to the tiny window. She peered out, craning her neck to see the wings.

  “Nothing,” Barrett informed them a few seconds later.

  “Then it’s got to be an external problem,” Kowalski decided, a smile brightening up his face. “I’m going to have to go out and have a look.”

  “Bridge to engineering. All engines stop. Hold current position.”

  “I’ll be suited up in about ten minutes, Captain.”

  “Noted,” Barrett replied.

  Kowalski placed his hands and boots on the outside of the ladder side rails and slid down the tube.

  “Don’t forget to keep a line on,” McReidy turned away from the window and called after him.

  “The advantages of youth,” Gillespie sighed, shifting to give himself more room in the cramped space. He rested the scanner on his lap and dangled his feet over the edge.

  “We’re not that old. Are we?” McReidy leaned back against the wall.

  “No,” he smiled reassuringly. “But sometimes it feels that way.”

  McReidy didn’t answer. Her thoughts were elsewhere. Gillespie’s voice brought her back to the present, and she couldn’t remember what she had been thinking about.

  “Next time we put into port, I’m applying for leave. A month away from this place would be heaven. To wake up in the morning and actually see the sun rise. A brilliant, blue sky with white, fluffy –” He stopped suddenly as McReidy burst out laughing, his hand poised in midair, indicating a scattering of clouds.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologised. As his hand dropped, she saw the seriousness of his face.

  “It isn’t that funny.”

  “Yes, it is. You’d miss this ship too much.”

  “I know,” he agreed. “But this assignment is driving me crazy –”

  “But Cobe works.”

  “I know it does. I just don’t see how we can reach time zero.”

  “Kowalski here, I’m ready to go.”

  “We’ll see you in a few minutes,” Gillespie answered. “You need a break too,” he told McReidy in a low voice as though someone might hear. “Stop pushing so hard.”

  She looked at him for a moment, then turned back to the window.

  It only took her a second to find Kowalski’s white bubble suit as he clambered up towards the wings. He hung on tightly with his hands as his feet missed the footings and the lifeline curled around his legs like a snake, seeming to have a mind of its own.

  “Kowalski, are you all right?” It was an unconscious effort that enabled McReidy to switch her communicator to whatever department or person she wished. She had once wondered how the system worked, now she just accepted it.

  “It just takes a while to get used to it.” Kowalski’s v
oice was muffled slightly by the helmet. His feet kept floating up to his arms. Trying to keep them straight only resulted in stretching him out horizontal. His hands gripped the metal rungs, his arms stiff and taut as he pulled himself to the antenna.

  He straightened up, hooked a leg around the antenna, pulled up the slack in the lifeline and fastened it to the central cylinder.

  Once he regained his equilibrium, he let himself float. He moved with the ease of a swimmer, propelling himself with his hands and feet against the framework.

  Floating freely in front of one wing, he prodded a few places with a gloved hand as he ran a scanner over it.

  “You like it out there, don’t you?” McReidy asked.

  “It’s awesome!” He couldn’t keep the delight out of his voice. “Hang on, I think I’ve found something.” He pulled on the lifeline, the change in momentum drawing him closer to the wing. “One of the relays has come adrift. It looks… I don’t know… looks like an overload short. I’m going to have to take out the whole section. Tell the captain –”

  Kowalski was cut off as the ship jolted to one side. McReidy and Gillespie were thrown forward. She slid off the wall, grappling at the floor for a grip and managed to stop as her boots tipped over the edge. Gillespie swore as metal clanged and the toolbox slid off the platform and plummeted to the depths below as the lights went out, leaving them in complete darkness.

  The lights flickered on within seconds as the ship steadied. Gillespie was hanging off the ladder, clinging tightly with both hands while his boots fumbled for a rung.

  “I’m okay,” he nodded.

  McReidy threw herself at the window. The lifeline floated aimlessly about on its own.

  “Sam!” she cried out as she caught a glimpse of Kowalski, well clear of the ship and floating further away. She tapped her communicator. “Transporter room, lock onto Kowalski and bring him back.”

  “Sorry, but we can’t do it,” came the reply. “The transporter’s been down all morning.”

  “Captain –”

  There was nothing but static coming through from the bridge.

  It was then they heard the battle stations alert filtering up from below. Gillespie scrambled down the ladder. McReidy was right behind him. As his feet hit the floor, he sidestepped quickly. She dropped beside him and they raced to the bridge.

  The bridge door opened as they reached it. Its programming automatically identifying and admitting the two bridge officers.

  “Captain, we’ve lost Kowalski,” McReidy burst in. “His line broke –” She skidded to a halt, silenced by the image on the main screen in front of her.

  Gillespie went to his right and took his place at communications. The officer who was already there moved immediately and took a position elsewhere. Captain Barrett sat stubbornly in his chair. He heard the arrival of the two crewmembers but failed to acknowledge them. His attention was concentrated on the Betelian who was pictured on screen.

  The large, dark eyes set in the flat, lizard-shaped head stared unblinkingly. The nose and jaw protruded beneath them, flat nostrils flaring. The skin had a scaly pattern, the head and neck disappearing beneath a uniform that looked like armour plating. There was no friendliness in his appearance.

  It was obvious to McReidy, as she slipped behind the nearest console, that communications had just been established. She recognised the Betelian and knew his intentions were not good. She dropped her head, before he recognised her, and keyed a message to the captain, too fearful to actually approach him.

  “How dare you attack my ship!” the captain thundered.

  “You have something I want.”

  “There are proper channels –”

  “I have no time for your formalities. You will give me what I want.”

  Barrett was on his feet by now, having taken a few steps forward. “Like hell I will!”

  The ship rocked again. Those seated grabbed at anything they could. Barrett found himself unable to stay on his feet and grabbed his chair for support. The few seconds enabled him to throw a glance of acknowledgement to McReidy.

  “Sir, Kowalski,” she whispered.

  He lifted a hand to silence her. The ship steadied. He straightened up, regaining his composure, and spun back to the screen. His eyes showed a look of rage that hid the calmness beneath.

  “You have no weapons. Now you have no engines,” the Betelian continued. “You will give me what I want.”

  Barrett turned his back and began pacing slowly, his eyes flicked to Gillespie. As he reached McReidy, he stopped and turned back to the screen, blocking her from view. “Or else?”

  “Or else I will destroy your ship.” The Betelian rolled his eyes, frustrated at having to state the obvious.

  There was a moment of silence before the screen went static. Barrett was not surprised. “Are you sure it’s him?” he asked McReidy.

  “I know it is. It’s Rache.” They both knew the tyrannical dictator whose empire had been overthrown at the time of the Betelgeuse supernova.

  “What could he want?”

  “Revenge?”

  “No, he could have already destroyed us.”

  “He still might.”

  The thought struck the captain as a very real possibility.

  “Sir, Kowalski’s out there. His lifeline broke and –”

  “Make preparations to evacuate. I’ll stall. Kowalski will have to take his chances.”

  The hurried conversation took only seconds. Gillespie cleared the screen as easily as he had jammed it.

  “It appears we have communications problems also,” Barrett bluffed. “Try to keep a clear channel while we discuss this situation, Mister Gillespie.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “There is nothing to discuss.” The menacing look in Rache’s eyes met an equal one from Barrett. “You are the Magellan.”

  “If you know that, then you also know we are an explorer –”

  “Magellan is Madison’s ship. I want him.”

  Barrett’s mind ticked over rapidly. Obviously Rache knew nothing of transfers and that the former first officer was no longer aboard. McReidy was right. Rache was after revenge and would probably destroy the ship even if he got what he wanted.

  “I don’t go around handing over my officers to anyone.” A sudden possessiveness showed his determination. “You can’t have him.” The words were slow and defiant.

  Rache lost his temper. “Then I will destroy you!”

  “Go to hell!”

  Gillespie severed the communication. The screen showed into space in front of them where a huge ship began firing on them.

  The captain barked out orders that were already being followed. “Keep the shields up to maximum. Fire all weapons when ready. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Engines are offline, sir,” came the reply from the engine room.

  The pilot swore as the helm failed to respond to generator power.

  “Evacuate. Get those shuttles out of here.”

  The ship rocked as it was hit again, blacking out momentarily with the force of the explosion.

  Gillespie leapt from his console as it sparked and caught fire, throwing himself on the floor. Lifting his head, he saw the greater part of the bridge had been destroyed. The main screen dangled by one corner, pixels sparking and smoking. Beside it, the hull had buckled inwards; metal piercing through the wall. The ceiling crumbled and began to fall.

  The captain sat immoveable in his chair, barking orders while he rapidly worked the controls, and McReidy was coughing at her console. The rest of the crew were silent, sprawled awkwardly over their consoles or motionless on the floor. Gillespie immediately began to check them, but was greeted by the open-eyed stare of death.

  McReidy coughed and spluttered as the smoke poured up from in front of her. Her eyes stung and watered. She shut them tightly and lifted an arm to rub them. A hand grabbed her shoulder.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” Gillespie told her.

  She shru
gged him away. He held on, stepping closer.

  “The ship’s done for. We were lucky to get those two torpedoes fired.”

  “But the captain –”

  “He’s buying us as much time as he can.”

  This time McReidy moved. At the door, she turned and peered through the smoke one last time at the captain. He was at the helm of his ship. On emergency power, the ship had manoeuvring ability only. All weapons that were capable of being fired had been. The shields were failing fast. It was only a matter of time. Precious seconds to allow the crew to escape.

  McReidy and Gillespie were well down the corridor before the bridge door closed. They were bounced off the walls as the ship shook again. The bulkhead at the far end of the corridor began to close.

  Gillespie shoved McReidy ahead of him and dived through the narrowing gap. McReidy stumbled and lost her footing. Gillespie had set himself to roll, but the ship jolted up and the floor smacked him in the face, sending him skidding.

  The bulkhead sealed behind them as they scrambled to their feet and kept moving.

  The lifts were still working, though it seemed more like a sudden drop than a controlled descent to the shuttle bay.

  The bay door was open, the forcefield flickering, barely maintaining its integrity. There was one shuttle remaining, its engines humming. As they raced on board, McReidy froze. Sitting at the controls in his bubble suit, with helmet and gloves removed, and in an argument with the computer, was Kowalski.

  “I know the ship’s about to blow,” he yelled. “Will you just tell me who’s still on board?”

  “Sam!” McReidy cried as she lunged for him, drowning out the reply from the computer.

  Kowalski turned and guessed the look on her face. “Don’t you dare kiss me,” he warned.

  “But how...?”

  “Later, we haven’t time. Who else is left?”

  “The captain,” Gillespie answered, dropping into a seat and reaching for the seatbelt. “Go.”

  Kowalski’s jaw set. He turned back to the controls and shut the hatch. “Strap yourselves in. This is going to be a rough ride.”