Descent One

This is a novelette written for those who like to read and might have an hour to kill or while travelling to escape boredom. It is just the opening chapter and the entire story can be read on my website or downloaded in PDF format to any device. The graphic side of me filled it with illustrations, and of course, it's free 🙂

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Communications, piloting, hangar bays, engineering. Weapons. Fingers lingered on the panel. A smile crossed her lips.

Even after all these years, the fleet had kept her layout design for bridge officers. Eyes narrowed on an unfamiliar button.

Hologram. Though the layout had not changed, technological advances enhanced everything underneath. Admiral Stanton made a mental note to ask her 1st about it.

She looked up, gazing out the forward view. Nothing disturbed the maintenance gantry’s stillness, gave no hint of the organized chaos the morning shift would bring. Unlike ships of an earlier age, the Achilles did not roll with the sea’s waters. The U.S.S. Achilles, she corrected herself.

Two hundred years earlier, in the most spectacular civil engineering feat in human history, the entire population had moved to a massive tubular structure encircling the planet Jupiter and organized as the United Terran Guild. When its last residents left Earth, a funny thing happened on the way to the Globalist’s dream of one human race.

Thirty years ago, T7, the seventh generation born off Earth, her generation, erupted in open defiance. Fueled by cultural respect and reverence for their ancestors, the Japanese members of T7 refused to abandon Nihongo as their mother tongue and the Chinese declared Mandarin their only language. Both rejected any attempt to make Swahili their official language. Confounded and flummoxed Globalists soon found themselves swamped by sympathetic fires enflaming Earth’s youths. France’s young shouted, “Liberté, égalité, fraternité, toujours.” Americans demanded freedom of self-determination as guaranteed by their Bill of Rights. Kenyans, Nigerians, Ugandans decried the new colonialism.

As T7 aged and entered the corridors of power, their influence deepened and reached a grand compromise. In return for keeping the name United Terran Guild, the former nations of Earth regained their sovereignty. One immediate consequence? Proud Americans again placed the prefix ‘U.S.S.’ to all their starships.

Simone turned her gaze to one by one take in the Bridge’s stations, trying to imagine the officers who would control them. Dating back to her great-great grandfather, the Stantons had instituted a grand tradition of naval service. As the first woman in the family to reach the rank of Admiral and command a starship, she expected her two daughters would continue the family’s legacy. Five years earlier, unknown alien attackers killed one. Her other daughter, grief-stricken and inconsolable at the death of her older sister, cursed the family’s military tradition and disappeared. It broke Simone. She resigned her commission and allowed her life to become one of quiet desperation and despair.

Two months ago, her communication panel brightened and blinked. Dispirited and morose, Simone touched the Accept button and the Commandant of the Interstellar Guild Academy appeared. They had unraveled the mystery surrounding her daughter’s death. A newly identified civilization had destroyed the ship and begun making incursions into the Milky Way’s Boundary Systems. Earth needed a Stanton to lead the defense. Simone stared for a long minute, then quietly said no before disconnecting.

She turned away, her mind an empty blank devoid of thoughts. Aimless pacing stopped in a hallway festooned with her ancestors’ pictures and awards. Eyes rose to meet the silent gaze of her great-great grandfather. Simone looked away but his voice rumbled through her mind.

“You are a Stanton.” It repeated. Again, and yet again. “You are a Stanton.” Shame filled her soul blasting away doubt. She hastened back to reconnect the communication channel.

Again, her fingers reached down to the Commander’s Panel. The U.S.S. Achilles formed the latest class of warships. It had the power to eradicate entire systems and would lead four Achilles-class ships to confront this newest threat. Its space trials complete, only the final fuel and weapon loads remained. Tonight, the Ship’s Officers would dock, and tomorrow crew members would begin arriving including its attached contingent of Marines.

Fingers switched to the seat, caressing its cushions. “We will do battle you and I, Achilles. I am confident you will acquit yourself well. Do not be concerned with me. Take good care of my crew."

She spun around, exiting the Bridge. Beyond the sliding doors, her sentinel bodyguard awakened from its dormant state. In lock step, their footfalls echoed along silent corridors.