Chapter One

The embryonic fluid sloshed out of the pod, splashing down onto the grates. The liquid was cold, as was the tubes that stretched down the throat into the stomach, the various thick needles that were stuck to the body at all the major pressure points. The shock of waking up, cold, with something snaking down into the stomach was too much to bare if one had not done it often, or at all in this case.

Joseph Cara, a former Mars geologist, woke from a 23 month hibernation sleeping cell so that he may board and join the last of the Comet Crushers, the Medusa. Currently he was awakening on-board a small transport shuttle, the Sun Chaser.

The panic attack was going into full force as the pod started to recoil all the devices, tubes, needles back into their chambers. The taste of metal stung his throat, his teeth scraped the tube, his body wracked by pain from the long needles pulling out quickly. Joseph Cara sat up, naked in the sleeping pod, his throat finally free and a wave of slime following that metallic parasite that was just in him.

He wretched violently, the fluid he sat in draining down by his feet. He shook from shock, from cold, from confusion. His eyesight was blurry, as it had not been used in almost two years. He thought someone was standing in front of his pod, maybe a woman with long brown hair.

“Hello! And welcome! You are aboard the Sun Chaser, and you have been asleep for a very long time!” a feminine voice rang out. Joseph Cara tried to clear his eyes, rubbing his fingering in them but the blurriness did not recede.

His mind was still racing from the panic attack, his heart rate dangerously high. He was convinced he was hallucinating, or in a nightmare. He was also convinced that he was experiencing cardiac arrest.

“Please, there is no need to panic, feel unsafe! You have just woken from a long sleep, and it is difficult for the body, and mind to come back!” the voice cheerfully spoke.

“Are… Are you… Are you an android?” Joseph Cara rasped out, his throat raw and his tongue numb. He rubbed his jaw and felt a hair on there, more than what he could remember.

“No! But I understand the question. I am a hologram flight attendant, here to help you awake and get ready for your next adventure!”

“Well, shit. It’s not a dream is it?”

“I’m sorry, this is not a dream, you are aboard the Sun Chaser, a transport that helps take people from any and all nations out into the farthest reaches of our solar system!” the hologram responded.

“Yeah, got it the first time. How long until we dock with the Medusa?” Cara inquired as he slowly started to help himself out of the pod. His muscles were sluggish, slow, weak.

“In approximately six hours we will dock with the Medusa, and your new adventures aboard the last Comet Crusher will begin! The Medusa is now the last of a series of three, and currently is the largest ship in use in the entire solar system! Aboard the giant ship, you will discover…”

“Stop,” Cara interrupted, “I don’t need a history lesson. How long until my body is back to normal? Where are my clothes, and who else is on this bucket?”

“The medical adviser is on their way to assist and evaluate you as I speak! They will give you a thorough examination, and inject various stimulants, vitamins, minerals, bacteria into you, and you will be ‘right as rain’ in no time!”

“My clothes?” Cara growled out as he put one foot down on the cold grating.

“The medical adviser will help you to your personal locker and assist you in getting dressed! They will arrive in approximately… 2 minutes!”

Cara threw the other leg out and down, a sharp intake of air as he placed his other foot on the cold floor. Slowly he inched himself up and over, to eventually be out of the pod but bent and holding onto it. He straightened his back, wincing at the weakness that seemed to infect every joint, every muscle in his body.

His mind was coming back to him, his vision was improving, but he was nowhere near back to normal. He stood there, naked, dripping with fluid and shivering from the cold. He looked over at the hologram, and it was a woman. She stood straight, hands folded neatly in front of her. A blue shirt and blazer tightly covered her, with a blue hat sitting on top of her head. She wore a broad smile, with big, brown eyes.

“Hey there champ, you good?” a voice from the right asked. Cara slowly turned to see someone in a white bio-hazard suit. The voice was masculine, but everything was covered in the thin armor.

“I don’t feel so hot,” Cara screeched out, rubbing his throat with his free hand while the other helped keep his balance by holding on to the edge of the pod.

“Yeah, I know the feeling all too well my man, let me give you a few boosters and you’ll be on your way to forgetting this,” the white armor said. The man in the suit was quite a bit shorter than Cara, but much broader in the shoulders.

“Here we go,” the newcomer said as an injection system was slapped onto Cara’s right arm. Several needles shot in, and the medical adviser started attaching small canisters to the device. A button was pushed, and all the juices shot into Cara’s system.

“In a few minutes your CA will come back online, one of these juices I injected you with will start that Computer Assistant right up, and soon your brain won’t be so empty.”

“That explains a lot, I forgot they shut it off when I went in there,” Cara slurred. The Computer Assistant, or CA, was an implant in the brain that gave the recipient their computer needs directly into their mind. It was connected to various networks, had a huge amount of storage, was able to do just about anything the user wanted.

‘Hello Joe, good to be back. How are you feeling? Oh, you don’t look so good. Don’t worry, you’ll be normal soon. Do you want some soothing music to help?’ Cara’s CA asked in that warm female voice.

‘Please, something low though so I can listen to this guy that’s poking me with needles,’ Cara thought back to his CA.

Soft music started to roll through Cara’s mind, an easy, rhythmic sound that calmed his nerves a bit and helped remind him that he was alive, this was not a nightmare, and he still had his CA.

“Talking to your CA?” the medical adviser asked. Cara nodded in response.

‘Accept invitation from Medical Adviser Sentl Ugorie?’ Cara’s CA asked. Cara said yes.

‘This conversation might be easier than using your throat, I know it hurts. Almost done with the injections,’ Ugorie thought to Cara. Cara simply nodded as more vials were plugged into the injection cup that was around his arm.

After two minutes, Ugorie removed the cup on Cara’s arm and placed it down on an empty pod next to them.

‘Now we are going to get you cleaned up, dressed,’ Ugorie thought.

‘Thanks, this is a lot harder than I thought it would be. The movies and books make it look a lot easier,’ Cara thought back.

Ugorie chuckled from under his helmet as he took Cara’s arm and started leading him down past the hologram flight attendant. She was still there, smiling, hands neatly folded, still wearing blue. It took some time for Cara’s legs to finally start working normally, and he found himself standing in a box. High pressure jets shot out water, stinging him as the fluids were washed off him. He yelped, but the heat of the jet water felt great, and that helped jolt his mind back into reality.

Next he was dressed, he shaved his beard down to stubble, shaved his head down to stubble, and smiled in the mirror. There he was. Joseph Cara, a graduate student in Mars geology, an educated man, a man with a few stories, a man with something to do.

He was lead out with more help from Ugorie to the deck that held the seats and windows of the vessel. He was strapped in, given some water and food.

“Hey, why do we have gravity?” Cara asked out loud.

“Well champ, we are really close to one of Neptune’s moons. Real close. That means close to Neptune, and if you couldn’t tell from the windows, we are spinning. You might get sick, dizzy from looking out. Some do, some don’t. Each person is different.”

Cara looked out the window. Every few seconds a giant, grey ball would fly past followed by an even bigger, greenish ball. Neptune and a moon. He watched for a few minutes, wondering if he was about to vomit again, but his stomach held firm. He shrugged and went back to eating and drinking.

His mind started to become more aware, more active and he used his CA to access the ship’s on-board computer.

‘My luggage, I want to see it,’ Cara requested. In his vision, a holographic image of a different woman than before appeared. She smiled.

‘All luggage is securely stored and safe,’ she responded with a smile.

‘No, I want to see my suitcase, now,’ Cara demanded. He had lost interest in his food and water, the special seals on the items to prevent them from tossing about if gravity was lost.

‘I am so sorry sir, but that is against protocol, and you will be reunited with your luggage soon! Thank you so much for your concern and for joining the crew of the Medusa!’ The connection was cut short and Cara furrowed his brow.

“Bitch,” he muttered out loud. His face went flush and he felt anxious, as he wanted to get to his personal belongings.

‘Seriously, I have family heirlooms in there and I need to check them,’ he sent out to the ship. This time an automated response came back in his vision, ‘PREPARING TO DOCK. PLEASE STAY SEATED.’

“Fuck, goddamnit… Fuck!” Cara hissed as he threw his beverage and meal off the tray. He ran his head over his stubble and breathed out loudly.

‘How much longer?’ he asked his CA.

‘Ten minutes Joe, I think you can handle that. Then we’ll be aboard the Medusa, and you’ll have that precious cargo in your hands. Sit back and relax, want some music, or a show?’

‘No,’ he thought darkly.

“I really don’t care, Jerra, get me the ambassador to Mars. I want that son of a bitch here, in my chair, gripping it with his little hands and making sweat stains on it. That son of a bitch said he’d support us in the next Meet, and now I hear he’s backing Europa,” Ambassador Ruthy Rass barked into her line.

“Ma’am, I tried but his office is not answering,” the secretary answered. Rass sighed and disconnected the call. She was feeling the anxiety in her bones. She was getting up there in age, and had not been to the specialists to rejuvenate her body in years. She turned from her desk and looked out her window, aboard the giant space station.

The space station was the official headquarters of the United Worlds Organization, and unnamed. Most called it the “Head,” or the “U-Woo,” but nothing had been put down officially. The station sat just outside the Earth’s moon orbit, close to the “mother world.”

“Maybe I should get a damn CA implanted already,” Rass mumbled out loud.

“Ma’am, what was that?” a voice asked from behind her.

“Nothing. So what’s going on with the Medusa? Did Prime Minister Clemminings change his mind all of a sudden, I hope? And fuck Scolls, that son of a bitch. And Bens, why is he barking so much? Got anything new on him?”

Kenn Archer, Ambassador Rass’ assistant, spy, consul, understudy shrugged from his chair. His suit was a little big for him, and he wore glasses. Rass always wondered why he wore them, his eyes could be easily fixed, even upgraded. His hair was thinning on top, his hands always slightly shaky in her presence.

“Nothing new Ma’am. Bens is still trying to shut down the Medusa, and wants us to dismantle it, give Europa all the weapons from it. He’s still claiming that Europa needs its own defense systems against rocks, and Scolls is backing the tear down of the ship, but not supporting were all the weapons go.”

Rass sighed again. She was in her late 80’s, looked like she was in her 50’s, and felt like she was well over a 100 years old. Her dark skin was starting to show spots and her hair was thinning itself, but nothing compared to Archer. She looked down at the small belly she had developed over the last few years. She sighed again and brought her eyes back up to the window.

“When’s the next Meet?”

“One week from tomorrow, and it’s going to be a full house, Ma’am. Bens has the floor first, then you. After you is Scolls, then Baxter, George, Seratona…”

“Yeah, I got it. Putting me right in the middle of those two? Is the House Speaker crazy? I’ll get sandwiched to death. Can you see if he’s available to talk about this? This is just stupid.”

“I tried Ma’am, but his office has replied that he is unavailable. I’ll try again.”

“We are the ambassadors to Earth! We represent the birthplace of humanity, the mother of this whole damn shit storm! And they won’t give us the respect we deserve? This system is getting worse by the year. Over 400 nations, all planets and satellites and they don’t respect us. Get me the President.”

“President of, Ma’am?”

“Really? The President of the universe. Really? President Leer, from our home, Earth. Think you can get him on the line for me? Could you do that?”

Archer looked around the office, he wanted to grab something and throw it at her. He felt the start of sweat to grow on his lower back and under his arms. Rass still stood there, looking out that window. She would not even look at him as she ordered him around.

“Yes Ma’am, I’ll give him a call,” Archer responded and pulled up his CA to request a video conference with the President of Earth.

“Are we at a full stop?” Captain Parrin asked from his landing in the cockpit of the Medusa.

“Yes sir, we are at full stop, gravity is set, everything is in order for the supplies and personnel,” one of the assistants said to him. The Captain of the Medusa frowned as he looked out at the controls of the massive ship.

“Everything is settled and stopped, we are re-calibrating and doing full systems check,” Andrew Readic announced from the “pilot pit.” There were four sunken stations around the cockpit, each holding twenty-five navigators, or pilots some called them. Readic was the lead navigator, and would run around between the four pits, checking data and ordering the pilots.

“Good, Mr. Readic. Please keep idle, and be ready to launch in six hours,” the Captain announced.

“Yes sir,” Readic said from below.

Captain Parrin sighed and turned on his heel, and started to exit the bridge. His assistants followed, never giving him a moment of silence. He was never alone. He was on his way to his cabin to get a nap in before the ship started its patrol, but the assistants hounded him the entire walk to his room. Once he reached his door and silently commanded it to open via his CA, he turned and gave the six followers a hard, dark look.

“Now, quiet down, go rest, as I am about to do. No objections. The ship will be fine. Everything will be fine. Now, scoot! Leave!”

The assistants reluctantly left, finally giving the Captain a moment of silence. He sighed and a small smile slipped onto his face as he strode into his cabin and closed the door. He sloughed off the heavy, white jacket with the blue trim, the jacket of the Captain, and let it hang from a chair. He pulled the white cap off his head and plopped it down on the table near the jacket, and went to his bathroom.

The light jumped on and the mirror stared at him. He looked himself over for a moment, noticing more grey hair in his beard, on top of his head. Under his eyes were dark, and his skin was pale. He sighed again and disrobed.

He took a long hot shower, enjoying the head and the thoughts of swimming in an ocean. His mind would always go to the ocean when he was stressed, tired. He would imagine swimming in the waves, fighting the crests, laughing as he conquered each one. Marrinea would be on the beach, shouting at him that lunch was ready. His children would be yelling and running around his wife, each slowly burning their dove white skin in the sun.

Parrin snapped out of his daydream and looked around the blank, dull shower. He turned off the water and slowly got out, drying himself with a towel and forgoing the built in dryer just above the shower. Somethings were best to do in the old traditional ways.

His body ached as he sat then rolled onto his bed, a long sigh hissing out from between his lips. The pillow was hard, the sheets cold, the bed too soft, but it was better than the floor, or one of the bunks in any other part of the ship.

‘Some Vivaldi, please,’ Parrin thought to his CA. Vivaldi slipped into his mind, and he started to relax. He started to dream of that beach, those waves, his family.

Tyler Tiberon looked down the hallway before he opened his door with his thumbprint. He could have ordered it with his CA, but he preferred the scan, it would be harder to open as the technology was old and no one used it anymore. The downside was when it would break, technicians would spend a day fixing it and complaining.

His small room was neatly organized, with no pictures on the walls. His bed was made, his clothes put away. He pulled off the grey greatcoat and hung it on the hanger in the small closet, and adjusted his shoulder holster. He made sure the door was locked and sat down in the chair that was connected to the desk. He looked around the room out of habit, then stuck his hand down under the desk and removed a leather bound book.

He opened the book to the bookmarked page, and pulled a pen out of the desk drawer. He checked the book over to see if anyone had touched it, tampered with it. It seemed fine, he could not see any fingerprints or smudged ink. After he felt it was safe and untampered, Tiberon started to write in his journal.

I know one of The Void is on this ship. I can tell, I can sense it. We’re getting more crew members today. Soon the list will be sent to me, and I’ll check it over. I know one of them will be wanted by some nation, about one out of every ten new crew members is wanted for something. My job is to stop them, to capture or kill them. I’m the sword of the UWO, I’m there focused beam. I stop the ones that try and do horrible things.

Tiberon stopped writing and saw in his vision a notice from the Medusa. The list of new recruits was sent out, and he accessed the private United Worlds Organization’s database for wanted criminals. His CA would quickly cross reference with all the other nations, checking backgrounds, warrants, arrests. If someone came up with a ‘red flag,’ he would quickly make his way to the airlock and wait for the person to board the ship.

The list consisted of twelve new crew. Each one came from a different home world, and none but one held interest. His CA had highlighted the individual, a Ronn Merry, based on the picture associated with his file. Within a few moments Tiberon’s CA checked the file and image of Ronn Merry against countless other databases and a ‘red flag’ came up.

This Ronn Merry was wanted for murder, extortion, bribing an official, rape. The list of aliases was as long as Tiberon’s arm, and he did not care what the man’s real name was. This was an individual that was trying to escape the authorities. He was attempting to slip between the cracks aboard the Medusa.

Tiberon stood up and stretched his arms and back. His stark white dress shirt, black dress slacks and black tie gave him the appearance of someone who was a strict, soulless corporate man. His black hair with the natural grey streak at his widow’s peak helped harden the edge of a professional. The only thing on him that disrupted this appearance was the required magnetic boots on his feet. In an emergency, the magnets would be automatically initiated to help fight the loss of gravity.

He checked his LAWS pistol, a Light Amplification Weapon System. The pistol was one of his pride and joys, a custom piece from a black market weapons maker. Technically he was breaking the law of the UWO, but this was a petty crime for what purposes the weapon served. He had even had the lens changed out to a deep purple, just for the effect.

His knife was sheathed on his belt, hidden away on his back. His great coat would cover the weapons, as no one knew he was armed. He was part of a special branch of agents inside the United Worlds Organization, the ‘Special Operations.’ To most the term spy would come across their minds when they heard the quick synopsis of what Tiberon did. Spy was just one part of his job.

The great coat came off the hanger and he swung it on, then used his CA to open the door and head out. He closed and locked the door with his thumb print, and made a hasty walk towards the elevator that would take him down to the tram. It would be a twenty minute ride to get to the airlock, something that always bothered the agent. He wanted a room close to the airlock, but was denied by the ship’s human resources department. They stated that UWO agents needed to be housed together. The other three agents, simple bureaucrats that pushed ‘paper’ around and made formal complaints against every slight stayed in their little section of the ship and rarely if ever ventured out to mingle, watch, study the other members of the enormous spaceship.

Michelle Means checked her systems for the eighth time since the ship came to a halt. The second navigation pit that she resided in was dark but for the glow of the holographic screens. The blue, green and red lights softly illuminated her dark skin. She unplugged the wires from her skull, stretched her neck and stood up. The chair that was her home for twelve hours a day was ergonomically designed to give the user comfort, but not so much comfort that the user would fall asleep. After twelve hours of sitting there, her back would ache.

Now she was off for the next twelve hours. Her replacement smiled at her, a young man that ate too much. He wiggled into the seat, which after he was in expanded slightly to take his girth in. She smiled again, turned and walked towards the elevator at the center of all four navigation pits.

Others were coming off their shift and all of them crammed into the elevator. Means could smell the others, their sweat, their food, their breath. She prided herself on maintaining a healthy body, and would jog, lift weights when off duty. She was headed to the gym first, then a quick shower, followed by a meal, and finally her bed. She shared a room with three other pilots, but each was on different rotations so they barely saw each other.

The elevator stopped on her floor, and she would have to take the tram on this level to the closest gym. The walk would take her by the airlock for new arrivals. She had seen a memo about new crew members today, and maybe if she was lucky she would see them as she walked by. She enjoyed people, enjoyed socializing but she was shy at first. It always took time with her to warm up to others. She hid behind her smile and would rarely make eye contact until she felt safe with the person.

Her boots clapped on the metal grates as she walked down the ancient hallway, coming to a four-way. To her right would be the airlock, straight ahead to the tram and eventually the gym, to her left was the unknown. The Medusa was the largest ship besides her two sister ships built by humankind. It had taken hundreds of years to complete their construction, all built simultaneously.

Means came to the cross section and peered down the right hallway. There they were, the new blood. She counted twelve in total. A few were attractive, most were not. She always felt a pang of embarrassment when she judged people by their physical appearance, but she could not help it. She judged as all did. She would hide behind that smile. Means stopped at the corner and leaned against the countless pipes and hardware that covered the walls. Everywhere in the ship the walls, ceilings, floors were covered with metal snakes that wound up and around, away and down. In the orientation before people were brought on board, a rigorous psychological test was administered. The main focus of the test was to check how well the people handled tight spaces, if they suffered from claustrophobia and to understand how the individual would interact with others. The test included an aptitude check, intelligence check.

Trishina Wulf stood in front of the group of newcomers with her CA tablet out. Means remembered the woman despised the idea of someone putting something in her head, and the woman was convinced that someone could hack their way in and take control of a person’s thoughts and body.

From the hallway that Means would head down towards the gym, a man in a grey great coat and what looked like a suit came jogging down and turned to head towards the airlock. He stopped behind Wulf and waved his arms.

“Stop! This is official United Worlds Organization business!” he announced. Security came jogging down from Means’ left, non-lethal weapons at the ready. Means’ eyes went wide and she moved back slightly behind the corner. Something was about to happen.