Young Writers Society

Hiya guys, this is a new short story series about the game FTL – Faster Than Light by Subset Games. This is a pure fan-fic and I don't own any of the franchise or have anything to do with the game except for playing it. It's also a bit shorter since it's a kind of introduction.

Hope you like it!

- Sathalha

"Status report, soldier."

"Coming in, sir. We've surrounded the Federation base and it's all but space rubble now. The rebel fleet should be able to move forwards to their last stronghold without much of a problem."

"So the operation has gone as planned, then?"

"Well..."

"What is it? Spit it out."

"A ship escaped the blockade, a Kestrel-class cruiser."

"Don't tell me..."

"I'm afraid so sir, it has the data.”

“Damn, we have to hunt down that ship, no matter what the cost.”

“Understood, sir.”

“May you be faster than light, soldier.”

“You too, sir, you too.”

*****

I disconnect the magnetic pads as the FTL engines start charging. I don't have much time, but I have to be careful or I'll blow the whole space dock up.

“How much time until the data download is done?” I ask my second-in-command over the intercom, Commander Sargon Jericho. Like most of the people on this station and like me, he's a baseline human . He might not be able to repair like an Engi can, but he makes one hell of a Chief Engineer. I'd trust him with my engine and my life any and every day.

“2 minutes tops.” His thick, husky accent gives away his Tarkani heritage, but he won't be able to see his homeland again if we fail our mission.

None of us will.

Some of the creatures on this station won't be able to see their home planets again no matter what we do. I remember hearing from a small Mantis crew that their colonized home planet had been destroyed directly after the end of the last galactic war. It had been annihilated because it had been 'in the way' of the Rebel fleet.

A voice chirps over the speaker “Can't you give a lady a helping hand?”.

I jog over to the loading bay and behold a young female officer trying to haul a missile almost as big as her on to the platform.

“Woah there, you're going to hurt yourself if you're not careful, Rebekkah.” Rebekkah Flynt: Smart, witty and one of the youngest weapon officers to ever graduate from the academy. Also a bombshell beauty with sparkling blue eyes and golden hair, though she's more interested in guns than boys.

“Well, I'd usually use a repulsorlift to bring these guys up, but we're kinda stuck on auxiliary power right now.”

She's right. I look around at the faint, pulsating green lights that illuminate our lonely hangar dock, with the unnatural silence only being broken by the gentle yet restless hum of the FTL engines and the occasional sound of firing from faraway, on the other side of station. Most of the soldiers on this military station are right now defending against the invading rebel fleet, but they won't hold out for long. I'd sure as hell like to be out there fighting with them, but I have a different mission to accomplish.

We load the last of our few missiles into the ammunition holster and step back as it slides into place. Sargon's voice comes over the intercom again “We're good to go, Captain.”

Captain, that's me. Captain of this little Kestrel-class cruiser on probably the most important mission in the history of the Federation. There's probably a million men more suited to this task than me, but I was the only one on hand, so here I am. Understaffed and under supplied, I have to race against the advancing rebel fleet and get to our final stronghold in time to deliver the precious information stored on this ship's hard drive.

I have to reach Terra.

My name is Hunter Reinhardt, and I will go down into Galactic history.