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</div>
by [[Auden Reiter]]

<div style="border: thin solid black; background:#eeeeee; width: 50%;
padding:5px; margin:5px;">
'''Editor’s Note:''' Last issue, I posted a request for prose writers who
might be willing to put together a series of articles set in the
Frontier... and am very pleased with the offer I received from Auden
Reiter. I don’t know what sort of background he has in RPG writing,
but I know he is listed as a co-author of Colony Book Two: Life on
Utopia, A.K.A. The Waste World: Life on Utopia (a sourcebook for
Heavy Gear, published by Dream Pod 9). His writing feels very
Star Frontiers, and I for one am excited to see how this story
evolves. At the end of the story, I will provide statistics for the
crewmembers, and their fated ship as well. Enjoy the read!
</div>

==Prologue==
The Dom Majesty shuddered again and her bulkheads groaned under
the pull of the nearby star. Failing systems belched intermittent sparks,
fires burned uncontrolled, the ship was dying. Lieutenant Nixon floated
down one of the corridors in near zero gravity, peering through the
acrid smoke, his eyes watering. Years of emergency drills had burned
the layout of the heavy cruiser into Nixon's memory. He could find his
way from stem to stern, smoke or not, but getting lost was not his
concern.

The smoke cleared a little and he could see an intersecting corridor in
the flickering lights. He double-checked his position against the
bulkhead signage, confirming was right where he should be. He drew
his laser pistol from its holster.

"Captain Gideon!" He yelled and pulled himself low. A harsh beam cut
through the smoke and played across Nixon's albedo screen. Nixon
cursed in pain pushing himself up and back behind the corner.

"You always go low, Lieutenant," Said a voice from beyond the
intersection, "That's a gravity reflex. I thought you better."

"We don't have to do this!" Nixon shouted, hoping to cover the scuffing
of his feet as he pushed off the ceiling. He frantically searched his
memory for a way around the intersection.

"Yes we do, Lieutenant," came the voice, calm despite the surrounding
chaos, "this is how I deal with mutineers."

The Captain was probably in the observation lounge just past the
intersection. Nixon caught a wall handle with one hand and pulled
hard. He shot into the intersection. The Captain's laser found him
again, sizzling against the reflective field mere millimeters from Nixon's
body. Nixon grimaced. The albedo screen reflected the laser,
dissipating most of the energy, but hits still burned deep. The Captain
was laying down long fire; the beam would continue as long as he held
the trigger. A risky move but it was working. At this rate, Nixon's
screen would give out faster than the Captain's SEU pack. And the
Captain always carried a spare.

Nixon curled into a ball and flipped over catching another wall handle
next to the lounge's kitchen access hatch. He punched his command
code and the hatch snapped open with a loud hiss. Nixon moved to
enter then stopped himself. He quickly pulled off his screen belt and
tossed it into the hatch, then moved to the intersection and peered
down the corridor. He could just see the captain moving away from the
door to investigate the belt clattering from the kitchen.

Nixon went hand over hand, fast as he could, down the corridor turning
at the last second to let his momentum carry him into the room, toward
the floor. The Captain turned just as Nixon floated into the room. Their
pistols flashed. The Captain's beam hit Nixon in the hand and lashed
up his wrist, burning into his flesh. Nixon's shot missed and his pistol
floated away from his ruined hand. Nixon clutched his arm to his chest
and tried to keep focus through the searing pain. The Captain just
stood there, pistol at the ready. He was wearing a space suit, but the
helmet was floating next to him. A white dwarf star, Ceta Prax, shone
cool white beyond the lounge windows throwing everything into stark
contrast. The star was the whole reason they were there and it would
soon devour the ship. Nixon had not missed the terrible poetry of their
situation.

"Why," asked Gideon. Nixon was breathing heavy, trying to flex his
wounded hand. He stood up slowly from his crouched position, angling
his body to hide his left arm as he eased his hand up behind his back.

"I told you why, Captain."

"For them?"

"For all of us! For the ship..." Nixon trailed off.

"You don't sound so sure." Gideon's pistol wavered.

Nixon yanked a gyrojet pistol from under his jacket and pointed it at
one of the exterior windows.

"Put the weapon down, Captain," said Nixon evenly, "even if you burn
me, I'll get the shot off."

The Captain narrowed his eyes and his aim came back on line. Nixon
could feel an itch where the beam would burn through into his
forehead.

"You think I would just let you go?" Said the Captain, his voice an icy
calm. His finger twitched on the trigger, but Nixon was already moving.
Nixon leaped back toward the hallway, firing the gyrojet. There was a
soft woosh as a small rocket left barrel of the gun and shot forward
under its own power. Compared to the lasers, the rocket moved
painfully slow, but the Captain was no fool. He tossed his pistol aside
and grabbed his helmet just as the explosive tipped round blew out the
window. The atmosphere rushed out of the lounge dragging the
Captain into void. Automatic sensors closed the lounge doors with a
snap, just centimeters from Nixon's nose.

An ominous creaking sounded from the surrounding walls and the
decompression alarm sounded. The ship was coming apart. Nixon was
starting to feel the star's gravity. He grabbed a wall handle with his
good hand and began pulling himself along the walls in long jerks. The
corridors flew by, each with a fading memory of the last four years. All
ruined now. All for nothing.

Nixon made his way to the rescue hall, each side lined with empty
escape pod hatches. He nearly laughed. All of his bravado was gone,
he looked to the ceiling.

"Fine!" he shouted, "I'll go down with the-"

"Nixon!" shouted a voice at the end of the hall, "Move it, junior!"

Nixon crouched to the floor and sprang down the hall clumsily
smacking himself into the half open hatch of the ship's only lifeboat. A
brunette, female Lieutenant pulled him inside.

"Thanks, Bjan-"

"Tavor's scars, Nixon," said Bjan, "Hurry up!"

Nixon wedged himself into a seat and strapped in. The lifeboat was
cramped, only more so with two of the Vrusk crew aboard, their eight
legs folded this way and that, awkwardly trying to stay out of the way.
Bjan yanked herself into the pilot's chair and slammed the disconnect
switches. Nixon barely had time to throw reactive gauze over his arm
before the lifeboat jerked then shuddered as Bjan poured on the
acceleration. The lifeboat shot into the darkness. Soon the
acceleration let up as they reached escape velocity and Bjan eased off
the throttle. She looked back at Nixon.

"Did you find the Captain?"

Nixon nodded silently. He turned and stared out of the tinted lifeboat
window, watching as the Dom Majesty slowly pinwheeled into the star.

==Chapter One==
Nixon popped his head through the escape hatch of his small freighter
and glanced back and forth across the landing pad. The Hope on High
was docked at Herson's Bay on Morgaine's World. The dim, early
morning light made it difficult to see, but the landing pad appeared
empty. Nixon pulled himself through the outside hatch, dropped on to
the permacrete, and straightened his clothes. He had taken no more
than three steps when a stocky, young Yazirian slammed him against
one of the Hope's landing struts. Nixon winced in pain. The Yazirian
was a head shorter than Nixon, but half again as wide, with a grip like
a magnetic coupler. Another Yazirian stepped into view; this one was
female, lithe where her partner was muscled.

"My brother wants to know where you're going, Captain."

Nixon struggled to pull his neck free of the brother's forearm.

"Breh... Breg...," he gasped a few times, finally rasping out:

"Breakfast..."

The female chuckled and ran her hand over one of the weighty laser
pistols slung low on her hip.

"Oh it's just breakfast? Then why're you sneaking out the emergency
hatch? Planning on spending our money on food?"

"Wha... Wuk..." Nixon gasped again. The female tapped her brother on
the shoulder.

"Let him speak, Pelot."

Pelot loosened his pin on Nixon's throat, but did not back away. Nixon
took a few relieved breaths.

"What money?" he said hoarsely.

"We haven't been paid in three months."

"Yan Ci, I was sure it was only two," said Nixon, immediately regretting
his argument. Yan Ci narrowed her eyes.

"Three, Captain, and expenses for the job on Anker."

"Expenses? We never agreed-" Nixon was cut short by Pelot's
forearm.

"Fine, fine, expenses it is," Nixon said quickly, "But I can't pay you if I
don't make this meeting."

"You have a meeting? For a job?"

"What other kind of meeting would I have?"

"I don't know," said Yan Ci, "do they have meetings for Garvian slugs?"

"If they did, I'd be the first to join," said Nixon lightly, "But since they
don't, yes, this is a meeting about a job. A job that I will miss entirely if
your... very elegant brother doesn't let me go."

Yan Ci shook her head, exasperated. Pelot glanced at her and she
waved her hand.

"Pfa!" scoffed Pelot releasing his grip

Nixon straightened his clothes again.

"Thank you," said Nixon, "now if you don't mind-"

"Three hundred up front or we don't step on that ship again."

Nixon's eyes went wide.

"Three hund-" Pelot growled. Nixon put his hands up.

"Fine. Three hundred. Up front."

"It better happen this time," said Yan Ci.

"It will," said Nixon retreating slowly.

"It better."

Nixon turned away and picked up his pace. Pelot turned to his sister.

"We're never gonna get paid if we don't actually hurt him," he grumbled
in Yazirian. Yan Ci shushed him, then narrowed her eyes at the
emergency hatch. There should have been a four person escape pod
locked to the outside of the ship.

"What happened to the escape pod?!" she shouted across the landing
pad.

"Sold it for fuel this morning!" Nixon shouted back without turning then
disappeared into the crowd beyond the landing wall. Yan Ci's threw up
her hands.

"I can't believe-," she started, then growled, "If he doesn't bring the
money, we gut him."

"Finally..." grunted Pelot.

<nowiki>***</nowiki>

Nixon walked slowly to the nearest monorail station lost in his own
thoughts. He filed in line with the rest of the crowd and tumbled into the
nearest train. He quickly grabbed a seat, beating out an elderly woman
and her small, yipping reng. The woman glared then moved to the
back of the car. Nixon settled in for the ride as the monorail pulled out
of the station, rapidly picking up speed.

Herson's Bay flew by the windows. Nixon watched as the dirty, run
down city blocks slowly brightened as they flew across the industrial
section, through residences and toward the coast. The monorail shot
out over water and Nixon could see the tall spires of Herson's Bay citycentral
on the other side of the bay. He adjusted his clothes again and
wished he had spent the credits on a new outfit as his crew had
suggested. The monorail made several stops before winding up the
central cluster of buildings. Outside several lanes of air traffic, vectored
thrust carriers mostly, moved ceaselessly through the sky.

The monorail stopped at the Hurret Building, an angled, smoked-glass
megatower with several huge walkways leading to the other buildings
in the cluster. Nixon disembarked and made his way to the nearest
media terminal for a map. Two human males, too big for the fancy
suits they were wearing, blocked his way momentarily, but grunted and
moved aside.

Precious minutes later, Nixon found himself in front of Simsome, a
restaurant much too expensive for his taste or pocket book. The
guards looked him up and down and Nixon flashed a color coded,
plastic invitation badge. There was an echo of worry as the guards
looked over the badge, but Nixon reminded himself that the invite was
not a counterfeit. He was not used to belonging in a place like this. He
had not belonged around the upper class for some time. The guards
double-checked the security scanner, making sure Nixon was not
armed and waved him in.

An Osakar host welcomed Nixon to Simsome, glanced at his invite
badge, and bade him to follow. The host moved with graceful ease
across the main floor of the restaurant, so smoothly on his multiple
legs, he could have been floating. Nixon was guided to a table with a
trio of well dressed humans that rose to greet him.

"Good morning Captain," said the eldest of the trio, "I am Matterly
Wen, this is my associate Doctor Saiya Mave, and our, um... security
man, Mikel." Nixon smiled his best smile at the dark skinned goddess
of a doctor across the table. She was dressed in a long black dress
made of light absorbing voidcloth, leaving her body from neck to wrist
nothing but a silhouette. She held her head high as Nixon kissed her
hand gently. They all sat.

"Have you been here before, Captain?" asked Doctor Wen. Doctor
Mave chuckled into her tea. Nixon straightened up and shifted to his
Spacefleet etiquette.

"No, sir I have not," he answered, "but the fair is similar to the Duvrum
on Laco. I cannot imagine the morning cakes are as bad though." He
winked at Mave, who did not seem to notice.

"Ah, well then," said Wen jovially, "I'll order for all of us. More efficient I
think. Also, you won't make the same mistake with the morning cakes."

Nixon smiled genuinely at the man and relaxed a little. Doctor Wen
ordered all of them the house special, a huge pile of elegantly
arranged meat, breads, and fresh fruits. The table echoed with idle chit
chat as Doctor Wen asked Nixon about his work. Nixon was politely
vague, but entertained the elder Doctor with a story or two. Doctor
Mave was silent throughout the conversation, despite Nixon's attempts
to engage her. Once they had finished their first course, Doctor Wen
launched right into the work.

"We represent Argos University," he began, "or rather elements
thereof."

Nixon nodded. Argos was the second largest university in known
space. This expedition would not be publicly sanctioned unless it was
successful. Doctor Wen continued in a low voice:

"We believe that there is an alien artifact of great power on Ceta Prax
four-"

"Ceta Prax?" Nixon interrupted, "That's in the Xygag nebula."
Doctor Wen nodded. Doctor Mave stirred her remaining food with her
fork.

"We were lead to believe that you are familiar with the region," she
said nonchalantly.

Nixon sat back, narrowed his eyes. They had done their research, that
was for sure, and Doctor Mave wanted him to know it. He had not
been in the Xygag since his dismissal from Spacefleet. If they knew
about the Ceta Prax expedition, they knew about his dismissal. His
frown turned to an easy smile. He knew this game.

"I am," said Nixon, "it's a dangerous area of space." He mentally added
costs to his fee.

"We know," said Wen, "That's why we wanted someone with
professional experience."

Nixon mentally added another percentage as he wiped his mouth and
pushed his plate away.

"What kind of artifact?"

"Something very, very old," said Wen. Mave cut him off.

"Something we'd like kept quiet, Captain."

"Fine," said Nixon, "I'll get you out there and back, with a month
standard for digging up whatever it is you want... twenty-one
thousand."

Mave looked to Doctor Wen who leaned back and massaged his
beard.

"Eighteen-thousand, two months, and we supply the food."

Nixon glanced at the empty plates on the table. The old Doctor would
provide something better than military rations. He was not happy with
the figure, but work was work. Nixon nodded and extended a hand.
Wen took it and shook firmly.

"We have an arrangement," said the elder Doctor.

"There is one more thing," said Nixon, "I'll need two thousand up front."

"How crass," said Mave.

"You're asking for crass work, Doctor," said Nixon glaring at her, "I
already have expenses to cover."

Doctor Wen frowned. Nixon hated to disappoint the old man, but this
was business now.

"We can offer you a thousand," said the elder, "But we leave in six
hours." Nixon nodded easily. Wen was no fool, which was a nice
change. Nixon handed the old doctor his temporary dock card as he
left.

Mikal had remained silent the entire conversation. He had watched
Nixon intently and continued to do so as he left. Once Nixon was out of
sight, he turned to Doctor Mave and nodded. She frowned and pulled a
small communicator from her handbag.

<nowiki>***</nowiki>

Nixon pushed his way through the crowd feeling a little light headed.
He stopped and flexed his scarred hand. It had been six long years
since Ceta Prax. Not long enough. He sighed heavily and looked to the
sky. After a moment, a couple of mountain-sized shadows fell over
him. Nixon looked up to see two human males, too big for the fancy
suits they were wearing. This time they did not move. Nixon regarded
them for a moment and regretted not being armed. He smiled and
punched the first man square in the nose. There was a loud smack,
but the man did not move. A small trickle of blood ran over his lip and
his eyes glinted with metal. Nixon cursed:

"Cyborgs..."

He dodged the massive, sweeping arms of his attackers and bolted
into the crowd as the two hulking men chased after him. Nixon
searched his memory for some past sin that might explain their dogged
pursuit, but came up empty. Which meant it was something recent.
Something like breakfast. He knew he should have held out for more
money. The heavy footfalls behind him told him the two 'borgs were
gaining. Nixon took a guess and cut down a narrow passageway. The
guess was wrong. The passageway emptied onto an open deck with
no other exits, ninety some floors above ground. Nixon screeched to a
halt and his shoulders dropped. He tapped his chronometer twice,
turned, and put up his hands.

"I suppose a bribe is out of the question?"

The two men approached him slowly, silently, strange machinery
twisting under their clothes.

Circle of Fate - Revision history

Terl obar: Created page with ' Top:Star Frontiersman main page | Up: Star Frontiersman Issue 6 main index | Up: [[Star Frontier…'

Terl obar: Created page with '
Top:Star Frontiersman main page | Up: Star Frontiersman Issue 6 main index | Up: [[Star Frontier…'