Constellation the ghost.., p.1
Constellation : The Ghost of Tomorrow, page 1
CONSTELLATION
THE GHOST OF TOMORROW
CONSTELLATION
BOOK 1
T. E. BUTCHER
SKETCHY OWL PRESS
Copyright © 2023 by T. E. Butcher
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
All resemblance to actual persons, real, living, dead. cloned or otherwise are pure coincidence. All characters depicted are purely fictional.
Created with Vellum
CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Preview of Hostile Stars
ONE
“I don’t like this Jim,” Oliver Knight said as he looked out the transperasteel canopy of the assault shuttle. Tech Sergeant James “Jim” Black set a hand on his old friend’s shoulder, easing him back so he wouldn’t breathe down the shuttle pilot’s necks.
Both Spacemen led a squad of US Space Force Espatiers, spacebourne infantry specialized in boarding actions and fighting on space habitats and colony domes. Their armor was reinforced with Kevlar weaving, ceramic plates, and sealant gel. It looked like traditional American space suits in an off-white color..
As their target came into view, he couldn’t help but share his friends’ misgivings. Before them, just outside the orbit of Saturn’s moon Titan, a ship of unknown design sat in front of them, silently drifting through space. It loomed larger than anything the US Space Force or any of its rivals could build, dwarfing even the assault carrier they’d launched from. Its snow colored hull stretched before them, a smooth angular hull dominated by what looked like an old blue water ship’s conning tower along its center of mass. Weapons and weapon mounts bristled from multiple hard points as she drifted through the void. Whistling as he thought, Black tapped the shuttle pilot on the shoulder.
“Hey, Ma’am, what’s your take?” he asked.
“Well, whatever she is, she’s quiet,” she replied in the vaguely southern to midwestern accent that seemed common to pilots. “No radiation signals of any kind, no radar, lidar, no heat, nothing other than the radar return that it’s here, total EMCOM, hell better than that.”
“And there are no records of anything like this?” Though he had a good idea as to the answer, James figured he’d ask anyway, to be sure.
“Nope, nada,” the pilot replied. With a sigh, he looked up at Oliver.
“Let’s brief the squads, big guy. Today could be interesting.” James shook his head. “This might be the big one.” They turned and left the cockpit, the taller Oliver ducking under the bulkhead as their boots echoed on the grav-decking.
“I’m tellin’ ya bro,” Oliver began. “I’m getting Nagalu vibes from this shit.”
“You and I remember that mission differently. Namely, We’re in space now.” He flashed a sardonic smile. “Completely different.” With a sigh, James typed in his access code to the troop section. “Jokes aside, I get it, that feeling like something’s off, like a fuse is burning somewhere.” Personally, Jim would rather just see the mission done and over with. Lynn was waiting for him, after all, and with a message like we need to talk, it can’t wait, well he needed to get home and get home fast
“Left of bang.” Oliver shook his head. “I’m telling you dude, Nagalu, someone upstairs knows more than they’re telling us.” The door opened with a hiss, and the two men entered the troop section. Due to the fact that Espatiers could spend weeks on a shuttle at one time, the bay had enough pods for an entire forty Espatier platoon to sleep, ration packs, and a lounge for them to sit and plan their mission. All of which went further than normal since their platoon was under strength by half, missing two squads worth of Espatiers where they should have had four.
“Alright,” James began. “Here’s what we know, around 0200 hours. Optical arrays on Titan spotted a ship of Unknown Origin maintaining a position near the moon. It’s been running EMCON at least since it was spotted.” He paused and looked their people in the eye as he spoke. All their team leaders as well as their medic were army transfers, same as James and Oliver, and combat veterans, while their younger soldiers were inexperienced, but eager to prove themselves to the older vets. The squads themselves weren’t hard to tell apart. Oliver’s people, save the medic Barker on account of being a woman, all wore mustaches emulating Oliver, whereas James’s were clean shaven.
James took a breath.
“This could be the big one, people,” he said. “This doesn’t match anything the Chinese, Russians, or anyone else has in space, Command isn’t ruling out someone’s black project, but that’s why we’re going in.” He nodded to Oliver, who stepped forward with a tablet in hand.
“Look, thing is, we don’t know if this thing has atmo, if any, so we’re going full suit with additional air reserves.” The big man pulled up their roster on a projector in the center of the lounge. “My squad, we’re going to be the security element while Sergeant Black’s squad conducts reconnaissance. The mission’s simple: recon the craft for any signs of its origin and status, then secure it for follow-on forces. Any questions?”
One of the younger kids, Senior Spaceman Rameriaz, raised his hand.
“Sergeant, what if it’s aliens?” the kid asked.
“We have protocol for that,” Black replied. “If they’re not obviously hostile, as in, trying to eat us or shoot us, we’ll contact LT and attempt to establish First Contact, but let’s try not to start something we can’t handle.” Grins and chuckles spread through the room.
“Yooo bro, ET fixen to get his ass kicked if he wanna throw down,” Rameriaz chuckled. A wave of excitement rippled through the troop bay, all save Sergeant Goldman. Sergant Prince, one of the old hats, raised a hand.
“What if we run into someone else’s team? Like China’s, or Russia’s, for example?”
James pretended to glance at Oliver’s tablet before amswering.
“We’re here to secure this ship for the US,” he said after a moment. “If another group tries to lay hands on it, we’ll persuade them to leave, otherwise…” He shrugged. “We have M7s for a reason.” With that, he patted the blocky rifle magnetized to the front of his kit. “We’ll begin our final approach shortly. Square away your gear, Griswold, Prince, prep the breeching kit for action.”
Prince raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? How do we know we can even breech its hull?”
Sucking air between his teeth, James glanced back at Oliver before replying.
“Honestly, we haven’t considered the possibility,” he admitted. “The breeching tools can melt through a foot and a half of rolled homogonous armor, but if this is an alien craft or someone’s missing black project, we’ll need to establish a PACE plan in case we can’t breech.”
They left their squads to finish their personnel preparations and made their way to the mission control center.
“Hopefully they’ve got more info since we got eyes on in the cockpit,” James said as he climbed the ladder to the upper level.
“Would they tell us if they did?” Oliver grunted below him. “LT’s fresh, enough that I can believe she still has a conscious, Carter though? Total yes-man.”
James crested the ladder first and turned to help his two meter tall friend through the hatch. Walking past the platoon leader and platoon sergeants’ berths, they knocked on the bulkhead and Oliver patted James’s bald head. For good luck, of course.
“Enter,” called Master Sergant Carter, and they obliged. Both he and Lieutenat Yang sat at workstations arrayed in front of a bank of monitors. Whereas Oliver was tall and muscular, Carter was thin, almost spindly with thinning hair combed over his head. He scowled at Oliver’s mustache as the pair entered.
“Is that in regulation?” he asked.
“Roger,” Oliver replied. “And I’ve been policing the squad as well.”
The older man nodded, seemingly still unsatisfied, but unwilling to press the issue. “State your business then.”
James looked at Lieutenant Yang as he spoke.
“Ma’am, we were hoping you would have more information on the objective,” he said, going to attention as he spoke with Oliver, mirroring his posture. “It would help with the mission planning.”
Before she could respond, Carter spoke up.
“You will be given any relevant information, as needed,” he said. “You’ve been given your task and you’re expected to execute.”
James swallowed and Oliver let out a slow breath.
Shifting to parade rest, a more relaxed stance with his hands folded behind his back, Oliver spoke up.
“Well, it would help us stay focused on our objective, Sergeant,” he said. “Our RED force projection would be different if it where someone’s black project or a potential first contact scenario, our security posture, all of that would be affected.”
Carter stared at them blankly, and James shifted.
“But you’ve been given the information.”
James shifted to parade rest himself. I better do the talking. Oli’s going to get pissed if this keeps up.
“What Sergeant Knight means to say is a free flow of information increases the odds of a successful mission,” he said. “If you have information we don’t already know, it would help us tighten down our SOPs.” Carter continued to stare at them.
“Hey Sergeant Carter, would you mind double checking the mobile blood bank?” Lieutenant Yang asked. “I can’t remember if we were supposed to have a liter for every Espatier and the pilots or not.”
Carter leaned back in his chair.
“That’s more Barker’s responsibility, besides I can check after these two clear out with them.” They looked back at Oliver when he faked a cough.
“It’s her responsibility to know how to use it, but it’s yours to ensure it’s operational.” He cleared his throat. “Sergeant.”
Grumbling, the other man left, and the Yang looked at the two sergeants before her.
“You can relax,” she said. “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” James replied. “But if you wanted to have a word with us, you could have just told him to leave.”
Oliver nodded.
“Yeah, you’re the LT and he’s the platoon sergeant, ultimately, he answers to you.” The Big man shook his head. “Besides, it’s not like he’s seen combat or has vast experience in this kind of thing. He was an intel analyst before getting roped into this.”
“Sorry, we’re getting off course,” James said. “What did you want to tell us?”
Yang looked at one of her screens, tapping her chin before looking back at them.
“So they sent us a database, with every ship under construction, and every black project they’ve been keeping a lid on.” She waved them over to look at her screen. “So I went through and checked every silhouette on the list. Nothing looks like the ship out there, nor is anything nearly that big, even if we go into black projects and our enemies’ secrets.” She leaned forward and tapped the screen. “Look here, Russia’s big fancy space control cruiser will be six hundred meters when it’s completed, aaaaaand it’s a year behind schedule, not even close to complete.”
“That ghost ship out there’s at least a kilometer,” James noted. “And I haven’t seen the inside yet, but it looks complete.”
“Maybe whoever built it forgot to install a reactor or engines,” Oliver joked. “Or they ran out of money and couldn’t afford to add things like radar, probably why they’re on EMCON.” He sighed and stretched his back. “A man can hope, at least.”
James looked through the silouttes of the various spacecraft. Most of them were vaguely tubular or cylindindrical in shape, with a notably exception going to attack craft, interceptors and assault shuttles. “Nothing, well, we’ll get ready for our final approach.” He pointed to a thick three-ring binder on her workstation. “If I were you, I’d go over first contact protocol, just to be safe.”
“I will,” she said. “Listen, I get that I’m new to all of this. I’m counting on you guys to bring everyone back. I don’t think I have to tell you how dangerous this could get.”
James nodded.
“Well, as long as you’re honest with us, there won’t be a problem,” he said. “We’ll check in over the radio before we breech, and again when we’re aboard.” With that, they saluted and left her in the control room, passing a grumbling Carter as they passed.
“Still don’t like this,” Oliver said. “If they suspected First Contact, why just send a single platoon?”
James shrugged. “Maybe we were the only ones they could mobilize.”
“Yeah, the platoon with the Nagalu crew were the only ones they could get together,” Oliver scoffed. “Yeah, no reason to send them into a dangerous situation.”
“We’re also the only platoon with any kinda combat experience after that incident on Jericho station.” James tapped his freind’s kit. “Even if the younger guys only have the one boarding action under their belt, they’re probably just going to war with the army they have instead of the army they want. Not necessarily everyone’s out to get us.” He sighed. “But trust me, I get it.” For a momment, they were just a pair of young privates bunking together on their first tour, how’d they’d managed to stay in the same squads and platoons across a seven year stint in the Army was a miracle on it’s own, and if anyone really understood Jim up here, it was the giant who’d waded through hell and back with him. They clambered down the ladder, only to bump into the copilot emerging from the cockpit.
“You two might need to come look at this,” he gasped. “The Lieutenant and your platoon sergeant too.”
James held up a hand to steady the copilot, as Oliver quietly moved past him with a purpose.
“Easy,” James whispered. “Take a breath and head up, but you need to have some self control about it.” Letting the younger man carry on his way, James joined Oliver and the pilot in the cockpit.
“Well, we’ll have to update the Red force profile,” Oliver said as he pointed to a sleek twin hulled shuttle connected to the ghost ship by an umbilical. “That’s a Z-980 Interdictor right there, People’s Republic of China hardware.” Then he leaned forward. “Wait, what’s that? Right in the corner of optical zoom?”
“See something?” James asked.
“Thought I saw markings on the upper hull,” Oliver replied. “Can we get a better angle?”
The pilot replied in the affirmative and tilted the craft at an angle that would give them a better angle of the strange ship’s dorsal armor. Despite their collected professionalism, they couldn’t contain their shock as the image became clear. The pilot gasped and James and to swallow hard.
“Is this some kind of sick joke?” Oliver growled.
Neatly stenciled in block letters on the dorsal armor of the mysterious vessel were the letters USS Constellation.
TWO
“I’m going to steer clear of the interdictor,” the pilot said. “They’re packing more heat than us, and I don’t want a piece of that.”
Black grunted and mulled it over.
“We didn’t spot it until we could see it, right?” Black said.
“From the angle we had, it was in the ship’s radar shadow,” the copilot said. “Or I guess, the Constellation’s shadow.”
Knight leaned over so he could see out the window until Jim gently eased him to a position more amenable to the pilot and copilot.
“I’m hardly the expert, but we should stay away from it,” the big man said.
“If they got a standard umbilical, then they didn’t breech,” Jim replied. “That means there’s a compatible docking hatch somewhere.” It would also save them a considerable amount of time, considering they weren’t even sure if they could breech the ship’s hull.
“I think I see something circular, amidships,” the copilot said. “Looks like a docking adaptor.”
