The Lost Astronaut
THE LOST ASTRONAUT
THE LOST
ASTRONAUT
SEARCH FOR THE GOLDEN THREAD
D. J. CONING
NEW YORK
NASHVILLE • MELBOURNE • VANCOUVER
THE LOST ASTRONAUT
SEARCH FOR THE GOLDEN THREAD
© 2018 D. J. CONING
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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ISBN 978-1-68350-547-1 paperback
ISBN 978-1-68350-548-8 eBook
Library of Congress Control Number: 2017905750
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To Andrew, Tim and Abby:
May you always find the golden thread.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter 1 Captain, Wake Up!
Chapter 2 Home in Indiana
Chapter 3 Lift-Off!
Chapter 4 The Unity’s Mission
Chapter 5 Fly Me to the Moon
Chapter 6 Failure and More Failure
Chapter 7 Space Games
Chapter 8 Disunity
Chapter 9 Darkness Comes
Chapter 10 Space Pirates
Chapter 11 Floating Wolves
Chapter 12 Far Side Outpost
Chapter 13 Planet Norr
Chapter 14 The Mouse
Chapter 15 The King’s Visit
Chapter 16 Darkside Prison
Chapter 17 Visitation Day
Chapter 18 The Golden Thread
Chapter 19 The Escape
Chapter 20 Save the Queen
Chapter 21 The Coronation
Chapter 22 Guardian of Mravia
Chapter 23 The Exodus Rescued
Chapter 24 Snickers
Chapter 25 Hershey’s Milk Chocolate
Chapter 26 Butterfinger
Chapter 27 Obtuse
Chapter 28 The Prince Arrives
Chapter 29 The Winnebago Unveiled
Chapter 30 Journey to Earth
Chapter 31 Battle Debriefing
Chapter 32 The Unity Saved
Chapter 33 Earth Liberated
Chapter 34 The Frozen Planet
Chapter 35 A Prophecy Fulfilled
Chapter 36 The Best Day Ever
About the Author
Chapter 1
CAPTAIN, WAKE UP!
“Captain, are you awake, sir?” inquired IRIS, the captain’s personal android assistant. Expecting to find the captain asleep as he entered the dimly lit quarters, instead IRIS found him sitting up in bed with his eyes wide open, staring off into space, unresponsive to IRIS’s presence.
“Captain Marcello, are you awake?” IRIS repeated in a monotone voice, this time at a higher volume.
Getting no response, IRIS quickly performed a bio scan of the captain’s vital signs. “Elevated heart rate, increased body temperature, abnormal breathing pattern,” IRIS stated as he leaned over and touched the captain’s shoulder, jolting him from his trance. Captain Marcello gasped for air.
“Are you alright, sir?” IRIS asked.
“Yes, I’m fine, IRIS. It was just . . .” He paused with an expression of disbelief on his face. “A dream that I hadn’t dreamed in a very long time.” He wiped the sweat from his brow, took a deep breath, and moved to the side of the bed. “Is there something I can do for you?”
“Yes, sir. Commander Corbis has been trying to reach you. We have received a distress signal from an unidentified ship, and he is requesting your assistance on the bridge.”
“Inform the commander that I’ll be right there,” Marcello said as he stumbled to the lavatory to wash the sleep and sweat from his face. He threw on his Royal Celestian military uniform, consisting of tan slacks and a navy blazer with ornate gold buttons and ornamental military epaulettes on each shoulder, symbolizing not only his rank but also identifying him as a prince in the royal family. Then he exited his cabin and walked toward the bridge.
The Cora Lee was the pride of the fleet. She was the fastest, most powerful ship in the kingdom, gliding gracefully through space like a sword slicing through the thick morning fog. Her beautiful aerodynamic curves made her look more like an exquisite sea creature than the larger, bulky battleships that had preceded her. Her elegant design made her the perfect ship for diplomacy, but her speed and power made her a formidable foe should diplomacy fail.
Onboard were over three hundred of the finest officers from dozens of planets and species, all sworn to serve the kingdom and protect its vast allegiance of democratic planets from the Murks, a ruthless empire that forced planets into submission or destroyed those that refused. The Murks weren’t the only predators in space. Marauding pirates, known as Thorgs, traversed the edge of the galaxy looking for easy prey from which to steal ships, freight, and hostages, which they sold as slaves to border planets on the outskirts of the Celestian Kingdom.
“Attention, captain on the bridge!” Commander Corbis ordered as Captain Marcello entered. Every officer on the bridge snapped to attention.
“At ease,” Marcello stated as he navigated to his chair in the center of the command deck. “Status report?”
“Captain, we received what we believe is a distress signal. However, we are unable to interpret the language or identify the species.” The ship’s communications officer, Lieutenant Beckel, fluent in over a dozen languages, turned to face the captain. “I ran the message through every language database, and there are no known origins for the language. However, we are receiving a universal distress beacon along with the message.”
She pressed a button on her station panel, and a distorted video played on the main bridge monitor, initially without sound. The video was fuzzy, and it faded in and out for several moments. Eventually, in the center of the monitor, a humanoid figure appeared and spoke frantically into the camera.
“Is there any sound?” Marcello asked.
“Not yet, sir. The video gets clearer in a moment, and then audio comes in briefly.”
A few seconds later, the video cleared up, and it was obvious from the person’s uniform that he was the captain or other high-ranking officer. It was also evident that his ship had sustained heavy damage. Thick smoke filled the compartment, and flashes of fire were visible in the background. Then, in a language unfamiliar to everyone on the Cora Lee’s bridge, his voice faded into the video. Midway through his message, the audio and video ceased. Lieutenant Beckel turned back toward the captain. “That’s the entirety of the message, sir. Like I said, the language is unfamiliar.”
For several moments after the video ceased, Captain Marcello stood motionless, his jaw slightly dropped, staring at the monitor. The language may have been unfamiliar to Lieutenant Beckel and everyone else on the bridge, but it was certainly familiar to him, though it had been a lifetime since he heard anyone speak English. He had all but resolved that he would never hear his native language again. The message stated: “We have sustained heavy damage to our engines, life support systems, and outer hull. We require immediate assistance. If anyone hears this message, we are on an urgent diplomatic mission of peace and have traveled far to find help to save our planet. We are pleading for your—”
The crew waited for directions from their captain, who was typically decisive and quick to utter a command to enter battle to rescue a stranded ship or defend a helpless planet, but he just stood there staring at the screen.
“Captain, do you believe it to be a trap?” Lieutenant Commander Cho Fe, the ship’s security officer, asked. On the edge of space, it was a common tactic for Thorgs to fake distress signals to lure in unsuspecting ships. Marcello still didn’t answer, just stood there, frozen.
“Sir, how would you like us to proceed?” Corbis asked, breaking the captain’s trance.
“The message is legitimate,” Captain Marcello said finally. “Set an intercept course, maximum speed. Commander, you have the bridge. I’ll be in my ready room. Notify me when we arrive.” Every eye on the bridge watched Captain Marcello as he retired to the adjacent ready room.
“You heard the captain; prepare for battle,” Corbis ordered. “Lieutenant, alert Dr. Pandori to have his medical team prepared to receive wounded. Red alert!”
The disciplined, well-seasoned crew sprang into perfectly synchronized action as they prepared for the all-too-familiar battle. Their movements were expedient and decisive but without haste or chaos. After ensuring all the necessary preparations were in place, Commander Corbis rang the doorbell to the captain’s ready room and then entered. Captain Marcello was seated behind a large dark wooden desk with his back to the door and his feet propped up on a small shelf that sat beneath the window as he stared into deep space.
“Sir, we are nearing the location of the distress signal, and the crew is prepared for battle.” The captain gave no response. Corbis took a deep breath before continuing. “If I may inquire, sir, your behavior has been . . . peculiar. Are you alright? Is there anything I should be aware of regarding this ship and its planet’s origin?” Corbis had been a close friend to the captain, serving alongside him in many battles, and he felt he deserved to know the truth.
“I am familiar with this planet and with its people,” Marcello said as he turned in his chair to face Corbis. Tears formed in his eyes, and his voice quivered as he continued. “This is my planet. These are my people.”
“Sir, that’s fantastic news!”
Captain Marcello held up his hand. “The crew must not be informed of this. No one is to know.”
“Yes, sir, as you wish,” Corbis said and then turned to leave.
The doorbell rang again. Before Marcello could answer, Bayli walked in. Although she was not an official crew member, she was a longtime friend of the captain. They were like brother and sister. She provided both welcome and not-so-welcome advice to him any time she felt he needed to hear it. Of the few friends he had, her opinion mattered more than any other, for she had been there through some of the hardest times of his young life. As an Azurian, her species was nearly annihilated by the Murks, and the Thorgs had captured her and her family. Bayli had beautiful blue skin with long braided black hair and markings up and down her arms.
“It’s your planet, isn’t it?” Bayli asked.
Marcello’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Yes, how did you know?”
“Lieutenant Beckel forwarded me the distress message to inquire if I was familiar with the language. Don’t worry; I told her I wasn’t. However, it sounded similar to some of the words I’ve heard you use when you talk to yourself. Plus, the person on the monitor looks like you.” She smiled wryly. “So what are you going to do now?”
Captain Marcello shook his head slowly. “I’m not sure yet. We’ll rescue them and then determine what their intent is.”
“I see,” Bayli replied. “And then you’ll reveal yourself to them?”
“No, they must not know that I’m alive.”
“Captain to the bridge,” Officer Beckel said over the intercom.
“Excuse me,” Marcello said as he leaped to his feet and hurried out.
“Sir, we’ve arrived, and the distressed vessel has sustained heavy damage,” Corbis said as Marcello entered the bridge. “They are being attacked by six Thorg predator-class ships.”
The Thorgs were neither trained nor disciplined in a military fashion. They operated purely out of greed. Their ships were usually a hodgepodge pieced together from the wreckage of captured ships. Each Thorg ship would alter its attack tactics based upon the culmination of strength from the ships they had previously captured. This particular Thorg ship was using small predator fighters to attack while the mothership hid from harm’s way.
After assessing the situation, Marcello ordered the attack, and the Cora Lee darted in front of the wounded Earth vessel, blocking the crippled ship from any further shots. Then she fired a single torpedo and struck the underside of a predator ship, detonating it on impact. The remaining predators turned their focus onto the Cora Lee and launched a torrent of torpedoes and phasor weaponry against her, lighting up the pitch-black space. The weapons were ineffective against the Cora Lee’s advanced defensive shields. In return, the Cora Lee launched torpedoes at each of the predators, exploding the small ships.
One predator ship was attached to the outer hull of the Earth vessel, deploying an attack crew to disable the Earth ship from the inside. Precise phasor shots by Lt. Commander Cho Fe sliced the predator from the side of the Earth ship, and then a follow-up torpedo destroyed it.
Only one predator ship remained, and it was fleeing toward its mothership. However, a tractor beam from the Cora Lee captured and held the struggling vessel in its grip.
Captain Marcello hailed the predator, and a large, slimy gray creature filled the monitor. His face was contorted with wrath as he spewed insults and curses.
“Silence!” Marcello said to the defiant Thorg in its own language. “I have destroyed your ships and can just as easily destroy you. However, I want you to take a warning to your people. If I find any Thorg ship in this quadrant again, I shall unleash a storm against you that will make today’s defeat look minuscule in comparison. There is no distance I won’t travel to bring down fire on you. Now leave and deliver this message before I change my mind.”
The tractor beam was disabled, and the predator limped back toward its mothership.
“Sir, a team of Thorg scouts made it on board their ship before we could destroy all the predators,” Lt. Commander Cho Fe said.
“Scanners are picking up a radiation leak in the engineering section,” Chief Engineer Morten added. “If we can’t get that under control, the ship could explode, taking us with them.”
“We’ll need to move quickly,” Corbis replied.
“Agreed, but their technology is foreign to us. I’m not sure if we will be able to assist,” Morten said.
“Gee, it’s a real shame that we don’t have someone on board who speaks and reads their language,” Bayli whispered loud enough for only the captain to hear.
“Commander Corbis will lead an away team to secure and protect the executive officers,” Marcello said. “The chief and I will lead a team to retake the engineering department and determine if we are able to assist them. Bayli, please work with Dr. Pandori to lead the medical teams once we have secured the ship. Lieutenant Commander Cho, you’re in charge of the bridge. If things go bad, undock the ship and get clear.”
The three teams assembled in the cargo bay to disembark. Marcello was dressed in his full body armor, including a silver reflective helmet th
at covered his face and a royal insignia on his lapel. He was accompanied by Mahjon, his royal bodyguard, a giant guardian of Mravia. Standing nearly nine feet tall with a muscular frame and smooth, hard skin, Mahjon came from an ancient, powerful species who had sworn long ago to protect the royal family.
Seven elite military personnel from the Cora Lee filed into the breached hull of the Earth ship, followed by Mahjon, Marcello, and Chief Engineer Morten. Each crew member wore full body armor and carried a laser rifle with flashlight attached. Emergency lights along the walls of the ship cast a red hue against the smoke-filled halls. The ship’s gravitational system was offline, so the team engaged their gravitational boots, allowing them to walk securely down the halls.
Sadly, the first humans they encountered were already dead and floating eerily in place, killed by the Thorgs. As they came to a T in the hallway, signs read “Cafeteria” to the left and “Engineering” to the right. Marcello placed his hand on the shoulder of the security officer in front of him and directed him to the right. They proceeded in military formation, checking each room for Thorgs or survivors, only to find more dead.
The thick security door outside of engineering had been destroyed by a phasor attack, which left a gaping hole. Engineering was made up of three nested, circular chambers. The innermost chamber housed the football-sized power core, while the middle and outer chambers were used for managing and monitoring the core.
Injured and slain engineers in white uniforms, along with security officers, were strewn about the outer chamber. At the rear, three security officers were pinned down and receiving fire from a single Thorg, whose body armor the human weapons couldn’t penetrate. Two other Thorgs were in the center chamber, attempting to remove the power core.
After quickly analyzing the situation, the Cora Lee’s command force sprang into action. They pushed through the debris and fired a shot, knocking the assailant against the wall. A second shot penetrated his body armor, killing him. As they filed into the middle chamber, the nearest Thorg fired several shots at one of the Celestian soldiers, but his body army deflected them. Several soldiers returned fire from multiple strategic locations, killing the second Thorg. The third Thorg, who had been in the process of extracting the power core, set down his tools, but before he could reach for his sidearm, he was struck several times. The team moved through the chambers in formation, sweeping each room for additional Thorgs.