Awakening of a Predator (Gravity Book 2)

  Awakening of a Predator

  GRAVITY

  Book 2

  By

  Jeremy C Kester

  Revision 1 - 2014

  Revision 1 ©2014 Jeremy C Kester

  Copyright ©2013 Jeremy C Kester

  Cover image and design by Jeremy C Kester

  All Rights Reserved

  Printed by CreateSpace, an Amazon.com Company

  For my son.

  “These violent delights have violent ends.”

  Romeo and Juliette by William Shakespeare

  The young boy watched the small, newborn children being brought out to their incubators. He watched with amazement as the numerous nurses scurried to and fro handling the needs of the many children being birthed there. It was a high population center for this part of the world, and it was a busy time of the year: 40 weeks after the Alliance’s annual month long reproductive waiver.

  It was four weeks that couples were allowed to conceive without paying the taxes normally associated with such activities.

  The young boy wasn’t there for a sibling though. He had wandered from his parents as they awaited the results from tests his father had taken. The boy didn’t know for sure what had been going on, but he was frightened nonetheless. He was searching for anything that would serve to distract him.

  As he randomly walked the halls, he found himself drawn to the windows displaying the new life abounding the ward. His eyes followed each new life carefully trying to remember the time when he was that small. It was only a few years ago, but those few years were his entire life. There were dozens of newborns being brought in and scurried out in droves nearly every minute. During this time each year there were hundreds of deliveries each hour in this ward alone. Staffing was stretched to its limits despite carrying a higher nursing staff throughout the rest of the year just to accommodate this month long barrage of births.

  Each child had a small tattoo on the ankle with the child’s name and a barcode that was grafted onto the skin immediately upon birth. It gave traceability to each child preventing the possibility of any switches occurring. Each nurse wore special glasses that were able to scan the codes listing out all directives related to that child which they navigated through with various hand and eye movements. Scanners on each bassinet also scanned for that code to ensure the biometrics were recorded and filed accurately.

  The boy looked down at his own leg where the tattoo would have been. It had dissolved within a few months of its application. He wondered if it had hurt when it was put on.

  While he stood there, multiple families came up to the window cooing in adoring admiration for both the new life and the complex dance of it all. This happened over and over as he followed the beds one by one.

  Continuing to examine each newborn, eventually his eyes fell upon one particular bassinette. Adorned with pink, there was nothing specific that the boy could figure had drawn him there, but still something brought him a strange sense of comfort.

  “There you are,” the boy’s mother said startling him. “We’ve been looking for you.” He noticed immediately that her voice was somewhat strained.

  “It’s time to go home, Haden,” his father said. “We’ve got a lot to talk to you about.”

  As they stepped away, Haden took one last glance at the newborn, Adrianna Feyet, her name coded on the side of the bassinette before finally turning his attention back to his parents.

  The Regalia: 29 August 2274

  The thin photograph sat gently between Haden’s fingers. He didn’t expect to find anything as he looked around in the ship’s hold getting his own survey of what Scarrad had been carrying. It had been laying on the ground where he and Adrianna had set themselves up a temporary space. Next to the picture were their other provisions. All of it was left to plunder once Haden and she were knocked out and subject to Scarrad’s plotting.

  He was still surprised that Adrianna chose to partake in such a technologically devoid hobby. He was captured by the tattered edges and the lines left in the paper from the folds and abuse that the picture had taken. Most images or photographs were kept on sheetcoms, paper-thin, tactile-sensitive computers. They were also much more resilient and impervious to damage from folding or rolling. This old style didn’t even allow for moving images or multi-dimensional, holographic displays. It was simple, basic. Such things were now marvels.

  Remembering clearly the day that Adrianna and he took this and many other photographs, he forgot where he was briefly. He was surprised how his mind filled with the smells of the meadow where they shared a picnic that day. The color of the sky and how it reflected off of Adrianna’s face made him smile. He even remembered complaining that she kept asking him to stay still as she took the photograph. It was that day he realized the effect she had on him.

  “I’ve never seen one of them before,” Harriet interrupted inquisitively. She was wandering around the cargo hold assessing the various supplies that Scarrad had there as well. She appeared happy to be on the ship after trading in her small shop back on Rhea for the chance at an adventure. Her words snapped Haden back into the ship’s hold. “That’s an old photograph, correct?”

  Haden nodded while still gazing at the picture. “It was one of her favorite things to do,” he responded defensively trying to safeguard the memory. His feet shifted allowing his weight to lean back somewhat as he turned to face her directly.

  “So that is what you’re after then, the girl who this belongs?” Harriet asked pointedly. Her eyes stared confidently at Haden, yet they were devoid of any malice. Haden eased a little.

  Harriet was an older woman. At nearly 70 years old, she had lived a full life. She considered that she still had plenty to live. Her career was fruitful and it served her well. Though her skin was worn from the years of hard work keeping her various businesses alive, she appeared healthy. Additionally, her mind was sharp with a strong attention to details.

  “We’re after a prototype ship that was stolen back from us. Getting the schematics back will be valuable enough that you could all take your leave and retire,” Haden said. He had been trying to convince himself that it was what he was after as well, even though he knew the plan was that it would lead back to Adrianna. Any bounty from the ship should sustain those he convinced to follow him once he found her.

  And he knew that he needed their help.

  Harriet chuckled as she took the picture from Haden’s hands and examined it. “Is that the line you’re choosing to give us?”

  Haden slightly nodded and shook his head at the same time. “She wouldn’t have been taken where we’re going, but it’ll point me to her,” he relented. His attention remained cautious with Harriet.

  “That’s the treasure you wish to find… information?”

  Haden took the photograph back deliberately. While tucking it into a pocket on the inside of the jacket he was wearing he retorted, “it doesn’t hurt to try and get this ship that I had promised my old friend that he would get before he crossed me and took her from me again. The technology that ship carries is more valuable to the Alliance than we even realize. I wouldn’t mind hurting the Alliance a little for some chance at profit.”

  Harriet smirked before turning away. “You can tell yourself that then. There isn’t a single one of us who think any differently.”

  Haden found himself oddly flustered by Harriet. She easily could tell what was going on and that bothered him. “You’ll get paid if that is your concern,” he affirmed.

  A loud voice broke in: “We have three trace signatures on the long-range scanners,” Trike announced over the ship’s com System. Haden was grateful for the interruption.

 
As Harriet continued to walk away, she said, “I’ll prepare the 2nd hold.”

  Haden touched the com unit on his ear, “keep distance and begin tracking. I’ll be up to the bridge in a few minutes. Let’s hope these are our birds.”

  ARDME Headquarters – Undisclosed Solar Orbit

  “I hope you are pleased with yourself, Colonel Fortner.” Rear Admiral Keller hissed as she packed her desk. Joyce Keller was, at least up to that moment, Gabriel Fortner’s commanding officer. Her age was 47, but she showed little signs of aging due to the fortune that she spent in genetic manipulation trying to hold onto her fading youth.

  “It is General now, ma’am,” Gabriel corrected as he stood in the doorway to Keller’s office. The rank didn’t feel as important to him as did the accuracy.

  “Oh, yes. You got a nifty little bump in your pay grade being Dimmings’ new little toy, general Fortner.” Joyce slammed her fist on her desk. Her face was flushed red with anger. It was only minutes before that Fortner had entered her office with his new rank and her new orders. Seeing the official document relieving her of command over ARDME took her by surprise. Being Dimmings’ pet and giving that man her body in the ways she had no longer secured her rank. Jealousy abounded within her. She felt dumped.

  ARDME was a mixed department of the Alliance Military having officers and enlisted personnel from all 5 branches: Army, Marines, Navy, Air Force, and the Astro Corps (the space faring counterpart of the Navy). Fortner’s promotion to Brigadier General placed him equal to Keller. She was from the Astro Corps while he was Army. The promotion was listed as a direct response in his handling of the Yorktown. Keller had not even been aware as to what had been going on.

  “How did you do this, you traitorous bastard?” Joyce continued.

  “Admiral,” Gabriel tried his best to remain devoid of emotion. General Dimmings had instructed him firmly to do so in dealing with Keller. “It was a decision by the Alliance Military Council to replace you following your ignorance of Ramirez and the Yorktown project.”

  Joyce looked at the young general as though he were talking in an alien language. Her face was taught; her eyebrows were furrowed. Keeping her arms crossed, she readied herself to attack. “What are you talking about?”

  “I have been leading the operatives on an assignment with a primary objective of retrieving the DASS Yorktown and relieving its commander of duty.” Fortner had rehearsed this speech for hours prior to handing off the orders to Keller. Dimmings had told him to be factual and dry, devoid of emotion. Keller would pick him apart otherwise. He continued: “That ship was of technologies that had fallen within the scope of our division and was being placed at risk by the careless desperation of its commander. You had not known of this as you appeared to have ignored all of the communications given to you regarding this.”

  “I lost my rank to a 20-year-old child,” she snarled choosing to ignore what Gabriel had been saying. He was angered by her saying such, but he held his tongue. “You were given tremendous concessions already. Were you not satisfied with being the youngest officer of your rank in all of the services? You couldn’t keep yourself occupied? That was a shit way of repaying me for the concessions that I gave you!”

  Gabriel remained silent. He began to wonder why he accepted the promotion that supplanted his commanding officer. Although he had never necessarily liked the woman, he now felt that the ordeal was more trouble than it was worth to him. Doubt grew inside of him for a moment. “These are our orders,” was all that he could think to say.

  “A fucking enlisted’s response,” she yelled taking the last of her small stash of personal belongings and slamming it into the box that sat on what was her desk moments ago. “When you get to our rank, brigadier general,” she drew out the official title of his new rank, “no promotion is earned through good work and being a good soldier. Or by being a little smart-ass,” she added disdainfully. “You’ll learn soon enough that Dimmings is using you to some ends and once he is done with you, you’ll be discarded just like me.” She gripped her box and carried it out of the room. Fortner exhaled as her feet crossed the threshold of the office. His shoulders lowered slightly. “God’s speed, general. You’ll need it.”

  DASS Yorktown Crash Site

  DASS Tripoli – 28 August 2274

  David Hirl took the communication from Captain Martinez’s hand. “She’s been busy communicating with someone over the network these past few days. Secure channels that I can’t read. They’ve finally come through with some orders for her though,” the Captain explained dryly.

  Captain Tyrol Martinez was a tall, thin man in his late 50’s. He had served the Alliance proudly. During his service he never truly made any waves or gave reason to accelerate his climb in the ranks beyond his current position. Seven years ago when he was given command of the Tripoli he met the young Commander Hirl. He took an instant liking to the young man, not the least of which due to his initial attraction to David.

  It had been centuries since sexual preference was ignored in military service. Although he was attracted to his new XO at first, Martinez grew into more of a fatherly figure to the young officer encouraging him to take his own command on a multitude of occasions, each attempt being summarily dismissed by David.

  “I’ll deliver them to her then,” David dryly responded. His tone was melancholy, bored.

  David saluted and then turned before the Captain instructed: “Read them first; they are your orders as well.”

  Freezing in place, the young, portly officer winced. He wasn’t going to like what he was about to read. “Did you approve them?”

  “No choice. They came stamped with the Council seal.” He was smiling in a way that showed his approval for the reassignment. There was a sense of pride in finally getting his young officer to accept (even though he had little choice) a position long since deserved. Martinez knew that the assignment came through influence from their guest, but the avenue mattered little. The position was warranted.

  Unfolding the sheetcom, David noticed the Top-Secret designations right away. As his fingers drifted over the sheets, he felt a warm sensation as they scanned his DNA prior to revealing the information. “They want me to command the Yorktown with a select crew of my choosing and her.”

  “You mean numbers?” the captain smiled even wider, despite David’s discomfort.

  David nodded. “She still makes me nervous.”

  “At least you’ll have something that you enjoy looking at.”

  “With all due respect, Captain,” David bemoaned, “you can keep her.”

  “We both know I don’t swing that way, Commander. Besides, she likes you.” David rolled his eyes. “Now does it tell you what you’re doing with that ship?”

  “It is supposed to go to some place in very low Neptune orbit. There’s only partial coordinates, nothing else. Orders are to be taken from a General Gabriel Fortner directly via 356Q.” David was beginning to look ill. He was comfortable as an officer provided that it meant that he was directly under someone else’s command in the normal rank and file. Serving aboard the Tripoli had also been extremely helpful to him. He remained there during Captain Martinez’s command of the ship, refusing offers for promotion despite the urging of his commander. His record was impeccable, fully suggesting that he was capable of his own command.

  Martinez patted David on the back. “You’ll be fine. It’s a cake run. You just be sure to stay away from any trouble.”

  Rhea Colony

  Minutes passed before the speed agent counteracted the tranquilizers. The operative stood over Adrianna Feyet curious as to why so much effort had been taken in securing a survivor, the only survivor, of that damned ship.

  She was quite beautiful, he thought to himself. Obviously he thought that her skills were likely equally as impressive, but it didn’t resolve the question as to her importance to the Alliance.

  The operative had paid for a small, private room hidden well within one of the residential sectors of Rhea
. Moving Adrianna there was less risky as he dared not hazard further inquiry by moving a Live Box off of the station after the exchange with the other operative. It’d be easier making sure that the Commander could walk out on her own accord. She’d be safer that way, more able to defend herself. Besides, he had other concerns that needed his attention.

  Adrianna blinked a few times while her eyes adjusted to the lights. The room was bright. It was colored a dull grey. Various ornamental images were painted on the walls. A few pieces of worn, comfortable looking furniture were organized almost too precisely. In fact, the operative had been spending all of his spare time aligning and realigning the furniture to his liking.

  “Where am I?” she asked deliriously. The sound of her own voice appeared to trail her thoughts which were also laggard.

  “You are still on Rhea in sector 2B,” the operative informed her as he continued his work aligning the furniture into another configuration. “But you are back in the safety of the Alliance.”

  “What happened with my captors?” Haden crossed her mind.

  The operative handed Adrianna a canteen filled with water. Willingly, she took it and drank.

  “They were all eliminated. We left the ship and the bodies to be scavenged,” the operative explained. His words were plain and unknowing as though the information had just been an incidental item on a list.

  Adrianna’s heart sank. She thought of whether or not it was possible that Haden survived. Imagining the condition he had likely been in, survival seemed impossible.

  “Typical privateers,” the operative droned on as he stopped arranging furniture again going instead to the food preparation area. A holographic menu lit up as he approached. “Hungry?” he paused to ask Adrianna.

  Replicators were the main source of nutrition in both Alliance and independent space. Needing only a small store of base food stock (typically protein, fat, or carbohydrate stock), these machines were able to create a nutritionally balanced food that mimicked the tastes of thousands of various meals. Chemical compositions were generally easy to construct. Meals were also dense with nutrition.