Young Writers Society

Hiya guys, this is a 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.

Hope you like it!

- Sathalha

Edit: I'm moving this over to the books section (since it's really more a chapter book than a collection of short stories) and I'm republishing chapters 1 and 2. Chapter 2 has been completely revamped, so it's quite different now. I'll be publishing any FTL stories over here from now on!

1

"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.

2

Whose stupid idea was it to engage with that rebel cruiser?

Oh right, it was mine.

Sargon shouts over the intercom. “Major damage to the shield systems captain, we can't take much more!”The systems check panel is an array of hellish colour, there's really a lot of flashing red lights there. What a god-damn mess I've gotten myself into.

Boom. Another volley crashes into our ship. The ship continuously shakes over and over again as lasers impact into our hull, barely being held back by our shields.

Boom. Again a barrage impacts.

The enemy ship, a Kaolin-class Rebel scout with its energy weapons up and blazing, starts steering away from us to get some distance. Its engines are wide open.

“Rebekkah, I have an idea. I want you to fire the port-side missiles on my mark, can you do that?”

The reply comes. “Sure thing, Cap'n”

Boom. What's to lose, after all? We'll be blown to smithereens if I don't do anything. I steer the ship until she faces the enemy craft, and then bring the Impulse engines up to full.

It happens in an instant. The lights of the lasers, my reflection in the screen, the wailing of the alarms, it all ceases for that single second of bliss.

“Now!” I shout out as our ship comes side to side with the enemy. The missiles eject from the gun-ports and crash into the enemy ship, blasting it into a million pieces. A shudder travels through the ship as we ride off the blast wave.

“Give me a situation report!” I order into the intercom.

For a moment, silence, then both of their voices come onto the speaker, confirming their well-being.

“That was quite a hit, Cap'n,” Rebekkah answers, “You sure know how to mess up a girl's world.”

“Our engine systems have taken some minor damage and had to be shutdown sir, but nothing I can't fix.”

“How long?” I reply to Sargon.

“30 minutes and she'll be good to go, you should scan the debris for any useful wreckage while you wait.”

“Good idea, Rebekkah, get the exo-suits ready.”

I have to stay strong, because if I don't, countless numbers of different species will die, just because they support the Federation. But can I?

“Calm down, Hunter,” I whisper to myself as I start the scanner and wait for a reply on useful materials.

What I get makes my day.

It makes Rebekkah’s day too. “A weapon? A completely intact laser? You gotta be kidding me, Cap'n! This is my birthday come early! And I have the perfect place to install it too!” She sounds like she just got the best present in the galaxy.

45 minutes later and everything is set to go. All repairs are done, and the new laser's functioning without a hitch. Rebekkah and I are just testing it on some rocks in a nearby planet's asteroid belt when Sargon comes in.

“Captain Reinhardt, may I have a minute?”

“Sure, lets step outside.” I leave my weapons officer to her fun and walk out into the corridor with Sargon.

“What's wrong?” I ask. He seems hesitant, so I also stand there, unsure of what to do. What's a captain supposed to do in a situation like this anyway? Do they have a psychic sense of knowing what's wrong with their crew members?

He finally speaks. “It's my father, sir. A report came in over Federation channels. He...he died in a recent battle with the rebel fleet, down in quadrant A-221.

This shocks me. You always know people are going to die in war, but you never really expect it to happen to anyone you know. I remember Sargon's father from when I visited his family home a few years ago, an ace pilot who loved nothing more to spends hours flying in a small rent shuttle with his son.

“I'm...so sorry. He was an amazing man. I respected him.”

He looks up to me with tears in his eyes. “We all have our missions to accomplish, and he died while fulfilling his, I'm proud to be his son.”

I'm amazed on how strong Sargon is, with how much courage he must have not to break down. But we can't, not while we have this task to fulfill.

“I know what. We haven't named this cruiser, so I think you should name her.”

He blinks in surprise. “Well... how about 'Saviour'? To reflect our mission.”

Saviour. That's a nice name for a ship. “Sounds good to me, and I'm sure Rebekkah will be love it too.”

Saviour.

I like the sound of that. It gives me hope.

*****

I look up from my transmission as a young soldier sporting a short crew cut comes into the room. He looks like he's scared to death, so I shut the screen down and turn my attention to him.

“What is it?” I ask patiently.

“G... Gen...” He stutters.

Oh well, another piece of bad information. “Please continue, you have nothing to fear by telling me.”

He swallows as I stare at him. “General, Prisoner X-41 has broken out! It happened during the attack on Station Beta. I'm extremely sorry and I will take any punishment you wish to deal out!”

Oh, this is interesting. “At ease, soldier. How did he escape?”

“He used the distraction to of the attack to steal a key card and escape with a small shuttle, Control only noticed after the attack had been completed, so he's had some time to get away.” The man winces in anticipation of a scolding and severe punishment, possibly even lashing, but I have a better idea in mind.

“Prisoner X-41, you said? Your punishment shall be to track him and observe him, but don't apprehend him, not yet.”

“Why not, sir?”

“He might lead us to a certain Federation ship that we're looking for...”

I turn around as the soldier leaves the room and stare out into the endless void beyond. My old enemy, space. The thing that took so much from me, and it has never given anything back in return.

Well, that's not exactly true.

If you think that being leader of the Rebellion counts.

3

It's been6 days now since our departure from Station Beta and we're making headway to Terra. I check the data logs for information on the flight plan.

"If we keep this pace up without any major setbacks, we should reach Terra in around 3 weeks." I comment.

"If our FTL engines hold out, that is." Sargon replies as he walks into the cockpit, "The Saviour's not equipped for this kind of continous strain on it's engines."

"Well, it's your job to make sure that they do, commander. Otherwise we're looking at flying impulse for the next 4 years."

A ghost of a smile flashes over his face. Sargons dad's death had affected him more than he let on, but he was doing a good job staying in control of himself and his environment.

A voice crackles from the speaker "You mean I'd have to spend the next four years stuck in this garbage of a shuttle with you? Not a chance, gimme a rebel ship to fire lasers at anyday!"

I chuckle as I push the transmission button to reply "Thee's an old Terran saying I know, Sub-commander. Be careful what you wish for, lest it come true."

A bright idea pops up in my mind. The intergalactic map are still up, and I take a look at them.

"Look here," I point it out to Sargon. "Isn't that a trading post thats part of the federation core?"

"And diverting to there shouldn't take more than a few hours, you thinking of stopping for repairs, sir?"

It should be safe right now, it's still a few days until the rebel fleet could possibly show up this sector and we are in desperate need of a rest, having shared less than 10 hours of sleep overall. I type the coordinates into the navigation system and turn to face Sargon, whose messing with some wiring next to the commboard.

"How about a pitstop?"

****

Half a day later I'm dozing in my hammock as Rebekkah's voice comes over the small speaker next to my door. "If anyone's looking for a hulking great space-station, we've found one! Their defense system sucks though, I can only see, like, three laser turrets and an outdated ion cannon."

I'm up and getting dressed before I know it. I guess I'm just really happy that we've managed to find allies in these dark times, and they could possibly help us. The Floecan trading post isn't exactly famous for it's good traders etiquette, but if you need something, even if it's illegal, this is the right place for you. I've been there a few times over the years and I remember it well...The alien spices, the illegal drugs, and the general bustle of a trading post at work. I know there are deals there in things like slaves and weapons, but they're backroom and proving anything in there is like trying to find a needle in a haystack the size of a planet.

"I'm on my way to the cockpit, call them and try to get a docking permit."

3 minutes later and I'm sitting in the pilot's seat , negotiating with Grotz, the Rockman that supervises the port and an old acquaintance of mine. Rebekkah and Sargon are both behind me, also waiting as I stare into this stony Rockman’s face. His crenellated face reveals no emotion of any kind as it peers out of the screen.

"Look Grotz, is it that bad that we're not hauling any cargo? We're just a small ship trying to flee back to home base before the big boys come."

"You do not comprehend."He rumbles."This base is setting up the engine for an FTL jump. If you have useful cargo such as fuel, it would be easier to let you in. Since you do not have any useful cargo, I find it hard to lease you a permit in place of a more useful ship."

I sigh. "What other ships?This place is dead, and'll only get deader as the rebels get closer. Listen to me, you let me in, and I’ll promise to give you a permit for a prime trading spot when we defeat the Rebellion.“

“If we defeat the Rebellion, Captain.“

This guy was really getting on my nerves. I knew Rockmen were stubborn, but I’ve never met anyone as single-minded as Grotz. I can’t tell him about the data we’re carrying either. It‘s classified information, and he’d probably be just as likely to sell me out as to take me in, he has an eye for profit like that. Three years ago he sold his own pirate crew out to the Federation Peacekeepers to get a pardon and a job at this trading station. I was on one of the teams to capture the enemy crew, and that was one hell of a job to accomplish. It took weeks of chasing around until we had pinned down that ship. Straight after that mission I had been promoted to the role of Commander in the U.F.S. Mistilteinn,a huge honour for me. I hope the Captain I served under on that ship is still okay. He should be out of harm’s way, as he got promoted to General shortly before the war broke out. Knowing him though, he’d probably just through himself right back in.

“You are in luck, Captain. Someone on the station has vouched for your entry, please proceed to Dock 2.” Grotz ends the transmission.

Rebekkah asks the question I was wondering “Who do you know that could possibly have enough influence to get us in?”

As I’m trying to think of an answer the autopilot takes over and steers us towards the landing clamp. The ship I see in the dock next to ours answers Rebekkah’s question for me.

“Oh damn,” I groan, “Of all the people, it had to be her.”

Both my crew members are visibly surprised at my exclamation, of course.

“You see that ship over there, the one with the yellow and purple markings?”

Sargon nods “That’s an insignia from your home colony if I’m not wrong, captain. Is that the ship of the person that let us in?”

“Yeah, and she’s one real pain in the ass, be ready for anything around her.”

As we finish docking and the airlock doors open, a sight from my childhood greets me. I see her wearing a black Fellahin leather jacket, high-ankle boots sprayed red, tattered pants and a T-shirt with ‘The rebels are revolting!’ emblazoned across it. I see a huge, sleek and shiny laser rifle slung over her back, able to take out two or three enemies at a time over a distance of 2000 Terran kilometres. I see how she walks up to me in the corridor, in control of everything that needs to be controlled. I see her short brilliant blue hair, yet it doesn’t make her boyish at all. I see her eyes, filled with a fire like no other and always looking for new excitement in life. And finally I see that mischievous grin, the one that I’ve seen so many times before.

“Hi there, Hunter. Long-time no see, huh?”