Escaping Gravity: A Space Opera Adventure (Infinite Horizons Book 1)

  ESCAPING GRAVITY

  ©2022 J.D. SULIVAN

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the authors.

  Aethon Books supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact editor@aethonbooks.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.

  Aethon Books

  www.aethonbooks.com

  Print and eBook formatting by Steve Beaulieu. Artwork provided by Phillip Daniels.

  Published by Aethon Books LLC.

  Aethon Books is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead is coincidental.

  All rights reserved.

  CONTENTS

  ALSO IN SERIES

  1. Extraction

  2. Exodus

  3. The Malshekt

  4. Job Hunting

  5. First Contract

  6. Settling In

  7. Lessons

  8. Ambush

  9. Layers

  10. Glimpses of the Past

  11. The Kwaagi

  12. Inroads

  13. Dominion Bound

  14. Sabotage

  15. Side Effects

  16. Traps and Trails

  17. Over and Under

  18. Returns

  19. Revelations

  20. Freedoms

  21. Reception

  22. Departures

  23. Declarations

  24. Dedication

  25. Under Kwaagi Wings

  26. Final Efforts

  27. Unmasked

  28. Fulfillment

  Thank you for reading Escaping Gravity

  ALSO IN SERIES

  Escaping Gravity

  A Glimpse Beyond

  A Clash of Empires

  CHAPTER 1

  EXTRACTION

  “Oh my God, I won!” Dillon shouted, flopping back in his chair. The disbelief wore off after only seconds though, and he jumped up from the seat at his terminal. He leapt in the air with a whoop, swung his arms frantically, and then rushed out of his room and down the hall of his family’s house toward the kitchen. “I won! I actually won!”

  “Won what, baby?” his mother asked with her usual impatience. She cast a skeptical look at him from the kitchen. Clearly, she expected he was talking about a video game or some other nonsensical contest in a social group. Almost any other time, she’d have been right.

  “The lottery, Mom! I won!”

  His mother, normally the picture of impassiveness, went wide-eyed and put her hand to her mouth. “The lottery? Why were you… how much did you win?”

  The nineteen-year-old continued his half-dance, half-thrash about the kitchen for a minute before his mother’s question registered. He straightened out and looked at her. “What?”

  “How much did you win, baby?”

  Dillon barked a laugh and shook his head. “Oh, not that lottery, Mom. I didn’t win money, I won something better. I’ve been selected to be her apprentice! Out of like… I don’t know, half a million applicants or more? And she chose me… God, she’s supposed to call me on a subspace frequency tonight to tell me when and where to meet!”

  His father, Malcolm—tall, broad, and imposing—came into the room, his brow scrunched up in confusion. He still hadn’t gotten changed out of his suit from the day’s work at the Senate Hall. “What’s all the yelling about? And who are you supposed to be meeting? Some girl?”

  “Some girl?” Dillon repeated incredulously.

  Some girl, indeed, he thought. It was so typical of his parents to know nothing of what was going on in his life. All they ever cared about were his grades and his love life, the latter of which was nonexistent, and then only because they wanted to be in control of both. If it was a girl, like his father assumed, then they’d want to know what kind of family, city, and professional background she came from. If she wasn’t at least modestly well-to-do and in college or already a professional of some kind, they’d be completely against it. His parents were absurdly picky about who he could consider dating—only slightly less than how demanding they were when it came to his grades.

  It was a girl, all right, but then girl wasn’t the right word. Dillon was interested in a woman, and not for the reasons his father—probably both his parents—assumed. Kiandarians were a handsome enough people who looked like leonine humanoids, but they were all but extinct now. Sherisza Rousilarru was reputed to be the last of her kind after Kiandar was struck by a plague that had wiped out the entirety of their species. Even those who’d traversed the stars were somehow not immune to the ravages of the plague, which spread far beyond their homeworld sometime when Dillon was young. Curiously, it had only killed their kind.

  “I’m supposed to speak with Sherisza Rousilarru—the captain of the Malshekt—about becoming her apprentice. My application was chosen out of hundreds of thousands! It’s the opportunity of a lifetime, exactly what I’ve always wanted…”

  Dillon’s enthusiasm was dampened only by the expectation of what was to come. It had always been his dream to travel the stars from one end of the galaxy to the other, no matter what for. His parents, on the other hand…

  “And what of your studies?” his mother asked predictably.

  “There’ll be plenty of time to finish studying law…”

  Malcolm gave the dreaded huff of disappointment. “When? After you’re done traipsing around the known galaxy with some greaseball pilot?”

  Dillon turned around and stared, dumbfounded, at his parents. “Greaseball pilot? Dad, she invented the Daevol Drive… she pilots the most advanced ship in the whole galaxy! She’s more than just some pilot or mechanic, she’s… she’s brilliant. She’s an engineer, an inventor… she can teach me things that would make me even more sought-out than becoming a master of galactic law like you.”

  The praise got his father to hold his tongue for a minute, but no such luck with his mother. “If she shows you anything more than what wrench or laser torch to hand her when she demands it. What does she really want with you, Dillon? Kiandarians were never exactly friendly to humankind, despite the peace treaty General McCallister established after the war. I mean, I don’t think she’d want you around for any… base reasons, but doesn’t it strike you as strange that the last known Kiandarian chose a nineteen-year-old human law student from Terra Prime to teach about engines and mechanics?”

  “Maybe she was impressed by my essay on black hole physics,” he said with a shrug. “I must’ve spent three solid weeks just researching enough to write something plausible and ended up getting caught up in rel
ativity debates and some of Hawking’s old theories. Or, who knows? Maybe she just liked the profile picture I included with it.”

  His mother closed her eyes and sighed. “Baby, you’re not helping.”

  His father, on the other hand, actually laughed when Dillon rolled his eyes at his mother. “Will she at least give you until the end of the semester so you don’t waste the term’s work?”

  “I have no idea, Dad. I only just got the acceptance notification a few minutes ago. It was pretty abrupt, but she said she’d be in touch via subspace later tonight.”

  Mercifully, his father’s wrist console chirped and buzzed, and he left the room to go take care of whatever business had come up. Not long after, his mother’s went off as well, signaling without a doubt that something important had happened. That was no major surprise; there was war in the Jiskkan System, and Dillon’s parents were consulted often on matters of intergalactic law. His father was one of the most respected interstellar lawyers, whether on matters specific to individual systems or applied to the known galaxy as a whole, and he had been working even more closely than usual with the senate since the start of the Jiskkan conflict. His mother was a judge and arbiter between worlds, so her expertise was just as sought after. With that sort of power, though, came a staggering amount of responsibility.

  Exactly the kind of responsibility Dillon had spent the last few years trying to duck…

  Sherisza was his best opportunity to avoid being trapped in a law practice, and the apprenticeship would let him fulfill his dreams of seeing the galaxy. He wondered if it was possible that she’d sensed as much when she’d read through his introduction letter and essays. Would she, one of the foremost engineers and mechanics in the entire known galaxy, really be impressed by his paltry research into black holes? Or in the physique he was “still growing into” at nineteen years old? Dillon thought he was decent-looking enough, with his cocoa skin, close-cropped dark hair, and the startlingly green eyes he’d gotten from his mother’s side, but not so much that a Kiandarian would find him all that interesting.

  I wonder exactly what caught her notice, he thought. Out of half a million applicants, maybe more… what could have made me stand out?

  He shook his head as he slipped quietly from the kitchen and back toward his room. He wasn’t going to start getting enamored with someone he’d never met, someone that wasn’t human and who he hadn’t even seen except in candid photos. His hopes were pinned to the idea that she was interested in his mind, at least enough to teach him some of her engineering skills and maybe a bit about the engines and ships she built. Even if it never turned into a high-paying job, it’d be something that let him see the galaxy, and if she ever taught him how to build a Daevol Drive…

  He paced his room for a while until his parents passed by and told him they were flying over to meet with members of the senate. That didn’t bode well for the people of the Jiskkan System, no matter what side they were fighting on. If galactic lawyers were being called to an emergency meeting with the senate, someone had crossed a line, and that had to mean something terrible had happened. It was something Dillon didn’t want to think about too much, but ironically, he realized it might be more of an issue if he were to leave Earth with Sherisza.

  He made his way back to the kitchen and was finishing what his mother had started to put together for dinner when the comms began to chirp. Dillon could hardly stop his hands from shaking. He was thankful his parents had been called away, because he was terrified of what they might say or do while he was trying to talk to Sherisza for the first time. With the quiet solitude the kitchen offered, he touched a corner of the cabinets and swiped forth a holographic screen. His touch allowed the system to confirm his identity, and the video feed was patched through.

  He’d only seen Sherisza in photos, most of which appeared to have been taken without her knowledge. She could be a reclusive thing, he knew, and as the last of her kind, she apparently hated being stared at or the center of attention in any way. Now, however, he got his first good, honest look at the Kiandarian. Her gaze was drawn away from the screen for a moment, and by the background and her posture, he guessed she was flying within a planet’s atmosphere while she made the subspace call.

  “Good evening,” he said in his most respectful voice, the one he used when being introduced to senators and his parents’ other friends and co-workers.

  Those golden, piercing eyes flicked to the screen briefly. It wasn’t easy to tell on a leonine countenance, but he thought he saw the barest of frowns. “Dillon Mackey?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he affirmed, now breaking out the deference he normally reserved solely for his grandmothers.

  “Get on the next transport south and meet me at the spaceport.”

  Dillon balked and raised his eyebrows. “Um… isn’t this a bit abrupt? I was going to ask you about finishing my semester at college…”

  “School is out for you, young man. If you want to be my apprentice, you need to get off this planet now, which means getting to the spaceport as soon as possible so I may pick you up.”

  “Why, what’s going on?” Dillon asked, thoroughly confused.

  “No time to explain,” the Kiandarian said, flipping a couple of dreadlocks back behind her high, rounded ears. “If you want the apprenticeship, it is yours, but we must leave now.”

  “But my parents…”

  “Your parents have been caught in an attack. You need to make a decision, quickly.”

  Time seemed to stand still. “What do you mean? My parents are dead?”

  “Have you not heard the explosions? Terra Prime is under siege. I will be at the spaceport in six minutes. If you wish to escape what is coming, you will be there in five.”

  Dillon didn’t even stop to say goodbye or close the connection. He ran to his bedroom to get his coat and a backpack of clothes when an explosion rocked the neighborhood. Panic threatened to overtake him, but Dillon kept his feet moving. There was a numbness around what he’d been told, a sense that he was dreaming, or that this was all some mistake or practical joke. Whatever the case, whatever the outcome, it would cost him nothing to pack a quick bag and catch a transport shuttle to the spaceport. He could explain things to his parents via subspace communique if it turned out to be an error.

  Another explosion rocked the area, and Dillon looked up as dust and chips began to rain down from the ceiling. He took the time to grab one last thing before he left: his father’s old handgun, mounted on the wall of the sitting room. It was a relic from their family’s past, but it was in exceptionally good condition, still worked, and—curiously—was even loaded. If Dillon’s history classes were worth anything, it had been nearly half a century since the last time an armed conflict had come to Earth. Sure, there were always little terrorist attacks here and there, malcontents and lunatics looking to disturb what was otherwise an enduring peace. But war had been all but stamped out, driven to the further reaches of the known galaxy as order was brought to every corner.

  Still, never hurts to be prepared, he thought.

  He couldn’t help but wonder at the timing here. His mother wasn’t wrong: Kiandarians and humans had never been fond of each other, before or after the Enarrii Conflict which had involved both species, though not as direct enemies. That the last Kiandarian would choose Dillon for an apprenticeship and then show up on Earth just as a large-scale attack of some kind happened? It had to be more than coincidence. But was she the cause, or the victim?

  Only one way to find out…

  Once outside, Dillon ran to the corner of the main road where there was a shuttle stop. It took only two minutes before one of the high-speed transports whisked in and picked him up, and Dillon got on and buckled in for the ride. The sleek shuttle would get him to the spaceport in time, but as he looked around at all the other scared people packed into this one, he had to wonder if Sherisza would be able to get him offworld. The spaceport had to be as busy as this shuttle was crowded, and with potentially m
illions trying to make a quick egress to avoid any fighting, things would get tied up in a hurry.

  Good thing she has the Malshekt, he thought.

  Dillon was still having a hard time sorting everything out in his mind, but he fixated on several facts: he was about to leave Earth and travel the stars; he was going to do so aboard the Malshekt with the last of the Kiandarians; and he might even get to witness the operation of the Daevol Drive firsthand. Almost everything else took a back seat to his excitement, at least until another explosion rattled the windows on the shuttle.

  Dillon glanced out the port side along with everyone else as a fireball rose into the sky to the east. It had to have been the senate building, and Dillon could only hope and pray his parents either hadn’t arrived yet or had somehow escaped. He’d find out; once he was safely in space, he could check the news feeds, try to contact them via subspace channel, whatever it took. But he had to be practical for the moment and get to safety first. He was of no use to anyone if he was just another victim requiring protection or saving.

  The shuttle glided to a stop at the edge of the spaceport, and people pressed tight to each other as they fought to get off first. Dillon waited, watching out the windows, looking for any sign of the Malshekt. He was about to get up and exit the shuttle—the crowd had finally thinned out—when he saw the blue glow of engines.

  His eyes could scarcely make out the black outline of the ship as it slipped seamlessly between two other, larger transport vessels in the port. The Malshekt wasn’t a large ship, designed for a skeleton crew or, apparently, a single person to be able to operate, since Sherisza was a recluse. If what Dillon had heard was correct, the ship had an advanced AI system that could more than likely keep its pilot and other crew company. It was just one of many suspected features that made it the most advanced—and thereby coveted—ship in the galaxy.