Star core, p.1
Star Core, page 1
Star Core: Wild Space
M.S. Olney
Starforge Books
Copyright © 2024 by Matthew Olney. All Right Reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of very brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.
*US readers please be aware this book was written by a British author in UK English
Other Books By M.S.Olney
TheSundered Crown Saga-
Heir to theSundered Crown
War for theSundered Crown
Quest for theSundered Crown
Voyage for theSundered Crown
Heroes of theSundered Crown
The SunderedCrown Boxset 1-3
SunderedCrown Tales -
The Nightblade
The Crimson Blade
Danon
Tales of theSundered Crown Boxset
TheEmpowered Ones-
The First Fear
The Temple ofArrival
Empowered OnesBoxset
UnconqueredSeries -
Unconquered:Blood of Kings
Myths of Aldara –
The Awakening Light
Star Core -
Wild Space
For my nieces Freya and Keren because you wanted to get a shout out. (Read it when you're a bit older!)
Dramatis Personae
Star Core
Admiral Preston Clarke (male from Ganymede)
Captain Elena Valdez (female from Earth)
Commander Jae-Sung (male from Earth)
Lieutenant Carter Matthews (male from Ganymede)
Lieutenant Rafael "Rafe" Ortega (male from Callisto)
Flight officer Tom Carbin (male from Earth)
Pilot Officer Coel Hen (male from Luna)
Flight Officer Yumi Tanaka (female from Mars)
Warrant Officer Jabari Goode (female from Venus)
Sergeant Anya Verhov (female from Asteroid Belt Colonies)
Corporal Royth Rand (male from Titan)
Specialist Kaito Nakamura (Male, from Deimos)
Chief Leo "Rig" Riggs (Male from Earth)
ELON (support Ai and Mechanical)
Marine Captain Horatio Marcell (male from Earth)
Doctor Anne Colter (female from Earth)
Red Brotherhood
General Westland Ajax (male from Mars)
Commander Yan Nua (female from Mars)
Rhys "Scythe" Zadar of the Red Brothers (male from Mars)
Contents
Prologue
1. An Offer
2. Riot
3. The Underfoot
4. Infiltrators
5. Nexus Prime
6. SS Camelot
7. Simulation
8. Spectre
9. The Council
10. Combat
11. Boarding Party
12. Debrief
13. Interrogation
14. For the Brotherhood
15. Escalation
16. The Dr
17. Into Wild Space
18. In the name of Ajax
19. Asteroids
20. Discovery
21. Grim Stars
22. Loss
23. Ambush
24. 24. Boarded
25. Aftermath
26. Awakening
27. Recon
28. A Plan
29. Piracy
30. Into the Breach
31. Revelations
32. Game Over
33. Escape
34. Epilogue
35. About the Author
36. ONE LAST THING...
Prologue
Wreckage littered the ground, and scores of small burning fires spewed noxious fumes into Io’s thin atmosphere. It had been a miracle the crazy son of a bitch hadn’t taken them both out with their desperate act.
With a grunt, Carter Matthews staggered to his feet and stumbled out of what remained of his Talon star fighter's cockpit. He didn’t get far before he fell to his knees, his combat flight suit’s armour preventing serious injury. The gravity on Io might not be as strong as Earth’s, but it was enough. Matthews rolled onto his back and watched the carnage unfolding in space above: hundreds of flashes caused by detonating warheads and flickers of light from the lasers of a thousand fighter crafts. If it wasn’t so horrifying, he might have said it was beautiful. He raised a hand to his helmet and smacked it twice. Static burst into his ears as the inbuilt comm system kicked back to life.
“Six, watch out!” shouted a female voice, one of many competing to be heard in the confusion of battle.
“Oh God, there goes the Caesar!” cried a male voice.
Matthews narrowed his eyes, and his helmet’s built-in binocular vision kicked in. He focused on the patch of space where he’d last seen the fleet’s flagship. Explosion after explosion erupted from the warship’s flank, signalling its shields had failed and warheads were hitting it with abandon. He muttered a prayer as, in the next moment, the Caesar, the pride of the Ganymede fleet, was vaporised. A single bright flash and it was gone, along with potentially all six hundred crew aboard. That was that then. The war was over. No way would the leaders of the Ganymede Alliance have the stomach or strength to keep fighting after such a loss. Their rebellion would end, and Matthews would lose everything.
Panicked shouts filled the comm; he deactivated it and silence returned. Wincing, he rolled over and gingerly got back to his feet. Broken ribs, most probably a few other contusions, and he’d be bruised for weeks, but he could still move his legs. His suit automatically pumped pain stimulants into his neck, and the agony immediately dimmed to a faint ache. Turning his attention away from the disaster unfolding above, he looked around at his surroundings. The surface of Io was a startling, vividly coloured landscape of erupting volcanic vents, pools, and solidified flows of lava, along with deposits of yellowish sulphur and sulphur compounds. Nearby, he spotted the rest of his fighter. The hull had been smashed beyond recognition; only the left-hand swept-back wing and miraculously the cockpit had survived relatively intact. From the looks of things, the enemy fighter he’d been dogfighting had sheared his own craft in two with their insane back-thrust manoeuvre. Whoever his foe had been, they’d certainly had talent on the stick. He eyed his helmet’s HUD and ran a suit diagnostic. As expected, it came back all in the orange. His O2 tanks and shield had taken damage; he only had an hour or two tops before he’d asphyxiate or succumb to Jupiter’s intense radiation.
“At least I’ll have a good view,” he muttered. Filling the distant horizon was Jupiter in all its glory. The space above Io was now lighting up as debris from destroyed ships burned up in its thin atmosphere. As he scanned the horizon, he frowned. About a mile away was the wreckage of the fighter craft that had brought him down.
“Son of a bitch,” he growled. The pilot was alive and inspecting their ship. He could just make out their blue and orange flight suit. Like his own, it was armoured, but unlike his, it was emblazoned with the emblem of the Earth Federation. Anger surged through him. He checked the inbuilt holster on his upper thigh and punched the panel until it slid open. He took out the particle pistol and set off toward his enemy.
*
The EF pilot was in a similar state as he was. They were just standing there, looking up at the carnage unfolding above. They seemed completely oblivious to his approach. Did they want to die? As he limped closer, he could make out that his foe was a female. Her smaller frame and the way she stood giving away her sex.
“Not a step closer fly boy,” the woman’s voice crackled in his helmet’s comm.
He slowed and noticed that she held a particle pistol of her own and had it casually trained on him.
“I’m guessing you heard the news about the Caesar? You know the war will end now,” she continued nonchalantly.
“Nothing has been made official,” he retorted.
The woman chuckled and turned to face him; pistol aimed squarely at his torso.
“The rebellion is over after today and I don’t want to kill another mooner if I don’t have to. Just walk away and wait for evac.”
Matthews frowned and then with a reluctant frustrated sigh lowered his pistol.
“Jokes on you, you sheered my ship in half and destroyed the distress beacon.”
“Then I guess I’m your only chance of a ride off this rock. What’s your name pilot?”
“What, we friends now?”
“Don’t be an asshole, mooner.”
“Lieutenant Carter Matthews of the Ganymede 6th fighter wing,” he answered finally.
“Well, Carter Matthews, I am Captain Elena Valdez of the Earth Federation. Terran Defender squadron.”
Matthews' eyes widened at the name.
“Wait, I took down the Valdez, the decorated war hero? The pilot that Earth claims is unkillable in a fighter, that captain Valdez?”
To his surprise she laughed and gave a slight bow.
“The very same. I have to hand it to you; I don’t think I’ve ever flown against anyone better than you before. That trick with the thrusters, you almost had me right there I’ll admit.”
Matthews approached and holstered his pistol before sitting heavily on one of the countless sulphur coated rocks of IO’s surface.
“I would have h ad you if not for that back thrust move. Never seen anything as crazy as that.”
“I was only a metre off from coming out on top after that,” Valdez said wistfully.
A bright flash from above caused them both to look spaceward. Matthews shook his head in disbelief. What was left of the rebel Ganymede force had instead of retreating thrown itself at the enemy in a suicidal assault. The capital ships of the EF held their positions, obliterating the rebels in a devastating salvo of weapons fire. Within moments the battle was over and all that remained of the Ganymede Alliance forces was broken hulks of metal.
“Those fools,” he said softly in disgust as the screams of the dying filled his comm.
“Desperate people do desperate things,” Valdez remarked with sadness in her voice. The comm channels to the Alliance fleet fell silent leaving Matthews with just the sound of his breathing inside his helmet.
“If it means anything. I am sorry.”
He looked up at Valdez all anger leaving him. His side had been utterly defeated and now he was her prisoner. The comm squawked and from orbit approached a shuttle craft.
“This is my ride mooner. Want a lift- or?”
She didn’t have to say the rest. Matthews looked down at the pistol in his hand and for a long moment he contemplated ending it all.
“I’d rather you didn’t mooner. You’re too good a pilot to go to waste.”
***
Chapter one
An Offer
5 years later –
Callisto Maximum Security Prison- Saturn Coalition Space
“Knock, knock, mooner, ready for your beating?”
Matthews looked up from his cot and ran a hand through his unkempt beard. Every day for the past six months, the thugs under Rasmus had delivered a beating to any mooner in the wing. The first time, he’d put four of Rasmus's goons into the medical bay. The second time, they’d been armed with metal pipes, no doubt provided to them by the bastard warden, Wickam. That time he’d been beaten so bloody that the guards thought he was dead. It had taken him three weeks to recover, and he still had scars all over his torso. The son of a bitch had it in for Matthews since day one, and Matthews couldn’t blame him. Wickam’s daughter had been killed in the Ganymede rebellion, a nasty affair. Naturally, the guy hated anyone who wasn’t pro Earth Federation, especially those who had served in the GA. Today, Rasmus had sent Tonta, a big bruiser of a man from the moon of Dione and he was as big as they came. He’d spent most of his life working the mines. He was a tough bastard.
Matthews glanced at the digital clock on the wall and shook his head.
“Not today, Tonta. I may have visitors, and I don’t want you to mess up my pretty face again,” he said sarcastically.
Tonta chuckled, placing his oversized fist into the palm of its equally huge counterpart. “Too bad, mooner. Rasmus wants you to get your daily dose.”
Matthews stood up slowly, his eyes never leaving Tonta’s. “You sure you want to do this?” he asked, his voice a low growl.
“You bet I do mooner scum.”
“You know you’re a mooner too, right?”
Tonta didn’t care. The big man lunged forward, swinging his massive fist towards Matthews. But Matthews was ready. He sidestepped, grabbing Tonta’s arm and using his momentum to slam him against the metal wall. The impact reverberated through the cell, but Tonta recovered quickly, throwing a powerful punch that grazed Matthews’ jaw.
The prison life had hardened Matthews. Five years of constant vigilance, daily brawls, and sheer will to survive had made him tougher than most. His muscles, honed by relentless workouts in the tiny cell, bulged as he squared off with Tonta. The violence of prison life had become second nature to him.
Tonta charged again, and Matthews met him head-on. They grappled, the sound of their grunts and the crunch of bone echoing in the small space. Matthews used his smaller size to his advantage, slipping under Tonta’s guard and delivering a series of rapid punches to his ribs. Tonta howled in pain, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
But he wasn’t down for the count yet. With a roar he grabbed Matthews by the throat, lifting him off the ground. Matthews felt the air leaving his lungs, black spots dancing in his vision. With a last surge of strength, he brought his knee up into Tonta’s groin. Tonta dropped him, staggering back with a pained roar.
Matthews didn’t give him a chance to recover. He tackled Tonta to the ground, the fight spilling outside of the cell and onto the metal walkway outside. He rained down punches until Tonta’s face was a bloody mess. Finally, Tonta lay still, unconscious.
Panting, Matthews stood up, wiping the blood from his knuckles. He looked down at Tonta and then at the end of the hallway where a couple of guards had gathered, watching the fight.
“You tell Rasmus,” Matthews said, his voice cold and hard, “if he wants to send another one, he better be ready to pick up the pieces.”
***
Blood flowed from his damaged knuckles into the small wash basin in the corner of his cell. Matthews looked at himself in the cracked mirror. How had it come to this? Before the rebellion, he’d been going somewhere. He’d been the best pilot in the fleet, on a fast track to command. Then the fools of the Ganymede Alliance parliament had declared independence from the Federation. Naturally, that hadn’t gone down well with Earth who was already at war with The New Mars Collective. For a while, the GA deluded itself into thinking the EF would let their violent uprising go, but as the might of Earth’s military forces crushed the NMC, they quickly turned their attention to Jupiter and its troublesome moons.
He’d participated in almost every engagement of the short but bloody war. He’d seen the colonies on Europa turned to glass, watched GA warships implode with all hands as they were pulled into Jupiter’s merciless gravity well. It had been horror. And yet somehow, by a miracle, he’d survived, spared by an EF pilot who’d taken him prisoner.
He splashed cold water on his face and wiped off some of Tonta’s blood that had splashed him. A commotion came from outside his cell. He straightened up to his full height, draped the towel over his shoulder, and crossed his large arms. In the entrance to his cell stood Warden Wickham. Two of his heavily armoured security guards at his side. From their grim expressions, Matthews deduced that he was about to face another attempted beating. He loosened his shoulders and clenched his hands into fists.
Wickham raised a greying eyebrow. The man was tall and wiry, much like many of those born and raised on Titan. In a fistfight, Matthews knew he’d easily kick the shit out of him, but Wickham was no fool. He was one of those nasty pieces of work who never got their own hands dirty. His two goons, on the other hand...
“As much as I’d love to beat you into a pulp, I’ve been given orders from on high. You have a visitor,” Wickham said in his gravelly voice.
Matthews blinked. A visitor? In all the years he’d been incarcerated in this hellhole, not one person had come to see him. His parents and sister had died years before in an FTL accident, and his wife had left him before the rebellion. ‘Too idealistic,’ she’d said. He wished he’d listened, but then he remembered that she was a controlling, abusive bitch anyway.
“Prisoner, you will come with us. Do not cause any issues, or else we will send you to the morgue ourselves. Do you understand, mooner trash?”
Matthews nodded and eased his stance. One of the guards stepped into the cell, walked behind him, and pushed him forward. Outside the cell, they followed the dimly lit hallway and out into the main congregation area. Several prisoners were idling on tables and chairs, some were shooting pool, or hitting the weights. Matthews caught the eye of Faustus, an older man with dark skin who’d also served in the GA. He’d been a grunt in the infantry and was the only ally Matthews had. Seeing the warden and the guards, Faustus stirred, but Matthews gestured for him to relax.
