BLOGS

Dern Lowtower is a passenger on board a sleeper ship, headed to a planet where he'll begin a new job and a new life. A group of ruthless hijackers have different plans, forcing Dern to fight for his life on a journey that takes a bloody turn for the worse!

Interrupted Journey: Part One

Bio displays inside the stasis tube registered an increase in the subject’s heart rate, breathing and neural activity. Dern Lowtower opened his eyes. Fluorescent patches covering his arms and legs vibrated, transmitting soothing muscle regenerative electrical stimulation. Nutrition IVs embedded in his right arm retracted, and the tube’s plas-glass cover slid open.
Dern breathed in deeply, exercising lungs that had not been exerted in quite some time. He sat up, his body bare save for a pair of black shorts. There were six other tubes around him. Covers opened and their occupants rose. Murmurs of greeting resonated throughout the stasis chamber.
An elderly man named Cyril hopped out of his tube.
Dern recalled the retired engineer’s energy and vitality before the voyage. It didn’t surprise him that the man was first in the chamber to set foot on the ship’s rubbery deck.
Their eyes met and Cyril grinned vibrantly. “Did you sleep well young fella?”
Dern climbed out of his tube much less nimbly than the older man. He wasn’t entirely sure that his electrically stimulated legs would hold him up after so much inactivity. He stepped lightly, cautiously to test his limbs sturdiness. “I suppose.”
“It’s your first time in extended stasis. As you can see it’s no different than if you were under for six months,” said Cyril.
“Which, by the way was close to my longest voyage,” Dern replied, heading to the locker room. “I guess five and a years isn’t so bad after all.”
“Except it hasn’t been five and a half years,” a woman named Ura said. She was three tubes to the right of Dern. He didn’t know her history. She had been quiet to the point of withdrawn at the beginning of the journey. Now, her round face radiated concern. “Check your tube chronos, see if the date accords with the reading on mine.”
Dern peeked inside his tube at the chrono display next to the bio-monitor. June 5, 2565. Four years three months. He frowned. “Strange. Our tubes revived us ahead of schedule. There must be a malfunction.”
“Could be faulty programming,” Cyril speculated, or a glitch in the hardware operating the tubes. “I think I’ll take a look.”
His wife, Theresa, gently grabbed his arm and tugged playfully. “The captain has a full staff of capable engineers to handle such matters, honey.”
Cyril looked crestfallen until his wife planted a peck on his cheek. “Let the professionals who aren’t retired deal with this.”
Dern darted into the locker room and hurriedly donned coveralls and soft soled boots. When he stepped out, he headed for the chamber exit. “I’m going to see the captain.”
The section housing the stasis chambers was beginning to fill with newly awakened passengers. The realization that they had been revived prematurely shown vividly on their faces. A few looked to Dern for an explanation, but he was as much in the dark as anyone. On his way to the elevator he met Alita, a ship technician assigned to astrogation. He and the tech went way back, from his days serving on board a system patrol boat.
“Good morning…I guess,” Alita greeted with a gruff air.
Dern understood the sentiment. “We’ve certainly been thrown off. Any idea what caused it?”
“Not a clue. I’m hoping the captain will have answers. I’m anxious to get back to my ‘nap’.”
The two stepped into a lift leading to bridge level and rode in silence. When the door opened rough hands reached into the lift, grabbed Alita and Dern and hustled them onto the bridge.
Dern took quick measure of the situation. Six gunmen, four wielding RI 4 assault rifles, two with semi-automatic Viper pistols, all donning carbon lamellar flak vests and boot-sheathed combat knives. Nine bridge crewmembers, including the captain lay sprawled on the deck, their hands clasped behind their heads.
Dern raised his hands.
“What the hell!” Alita was not so level headed. A spurt of resistance earned her a rifle butt to the base of the skull.
The gunman who issued the blow watched his victim crumple to the deck, then pointed his rifle at her head and snarled. “Bitch.”
Dern stood poised to disarm the criminal before he could get a shot off.
“Stand down, Josik. I don’t think she’ll be a problem from this point on.”
A gunman Dern presumed to be the leader of this gang stepped forward. His blond close-cropped hair was as sharply cut as the angled contour of his jawline. Ice blue eyes cut deeply into Dern, assessing, dissecting. “You won’t be a problem either, will you?”
Dern put on his most passive face. “No. Not at all.”
The leader’s gaze lingered on Dern like a toxic fog for a few more seconds. Finally, he turned away, gesturing. “Get them on their feet.”
The criminals grabbed crewmembers, hoisting them upright.
The leader approached the captain. “Turn on the monitors. I want everyone here to see video feeds of the stasis level.”
Dern glimpsed the bruises on the captain’s face.
Evidently, these criminals were as impatient with the captain as they were with Alita.
The captain flicked a look at an officer and nodded.
The officer moved nervously to a console and tapped a control.
Display screens above the console flashed to life, showing harrowing images of armed thugs terrorizing passengers.
Dern’s jaw clenched.
“My name is Tunnal,” the leader announced. “As you can see, my associates and I have taken control of this ship. You were scheduled to arrive at Ceres 3 in little over a year’s time. There’s been a change of destination.”
“Impossible,” the captain snapped. “The coordinates to Ceres 3 were programmed into the guidance computer at the beginning of this journey and locked in. No one can alter the destination once a ship of this class is in motion.”
Tunnal shot a hard, but mirthful gaze at the captain. “And yet here we are. Check for yourself.”
The captain brushed past a criminal and pulled up a star chart on the locator screen. His face went slack. He stepped back, looking at the leader with wary eyes. “What do you want?”
“Your cooperation first of all. After that we’ll settle for your ship.” Tunnal pointed to a star shaped icon on the chart. “This is where we’re going. System 382.”
The captain’s brow knitted, befuddled. “There’s nothing there.”
“That’s the problem with you ship captains,” Tunnel said in a tone dripping contempt. “Nothing exists unless you say it does.”
Alita stirred and Dern, disregarding the guns on him, knelt down to her. “You alright?”
Alita squinted in pain, rubbing the soreness on the back of her head. “Dern…?”
“Shhh…don’t try to talk…”
“That’s right,” Tunnal interjected coldly. “Don’t try to talk. Whatever your duty is on this ship, get to it. That goes for the rest of you. We’re going to the 4th planet in that system. Do what you’re trained to do to get us there as quickly as possible.” He focused on Dern. “You’re not dressed like a crew member.”
Dern forced an amicable grin. “Oh…I just came here to see what was going on. I’m a passenger.”
“Well, now you know.” Tunnal beckoned a large brute of a gunman forward. “Welch, escort our curious passenger back to the stasis level.”
The brute nodded a granite head. “No problem, boss.”
“What are you going to do with us?” The captain asked.
“Nothing as long you’re well behaved. We’re going to make a stop on the planet, drop you off and borrow your ship. Don’t worry. You won’t be stranded. We’ll leave you with a long range transmitter so you can contact a rescue patrol.”
The large gunman prodded Dern with the muzzle of his rifle. Dern walked toward the lift, suppressing an aching urge to glare at Tunnel. Stay calm, don’t piss the bastard off and we may all get through this alive. He wasn’t entirely convinced of that.