Bright Beyond, Episode 1: A Novella Serial Read online

  Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Title Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Also by Theresa Kay

  About the Author

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Text copyright © 2014 Theresa Kay

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Theresa Kay

  www.theresakay.com

  Cover design by Nicole Spence at Cover Shot Creations

  www.covershotcreations.com

  To Rachel, thanks for showing me what a serial could be and for cheering us Rebel Writers on. After all you’ve done for us, I suppose I can forgive you for episode eleven :)

  BRIGHT BEYOND

  (EPISODE ONE)

  By Theresa Kay

  This is episode ONE of a multi-part novella serial.

  The episodes are NOT standalones and should be read in order.

  It’s recommended that you read the FREE prequel short story, Dark Expanse, before reading this episode.

  Chapter 1

  The black void of stasis recedes and I draw a single gasping breath into my lungs. Where am I? The air has a bitter metallic taste tinged with…smoke? It burns the back of my throat and sends a barking cough out of my mouth. My legs give way as the screen lowers and I crumple to the floor of the ship.

  The air is clearer down here, but it doesn’t do me any good. The sudden and unplanned ejection from stasis is not kind to me. Random muscles fire, my limbs twitching against the hard ground. I struggle for every breath, my mouth wide open with deep inhalations, more and more smoke crawling through me with each one. My diaphragm shudders and jerks as another coughing fit takes over. I wrap my arms around my knees and curl into a ball.

  Sound seeps in. The shrill blare of an alarm scatters my thoughts and brings my hands over my ears. This is not the regimented world I went to sleep in. This is chaos.

  My eyes haven’t adjusted to being out yet, or maybe it’s just the heat of the roiling smoke. Whatever it is, I cannot quite focus on anything and I blink my eyes rapidly to clear them, to force them into action.

  One hand on the wall, I try to slide up into a standing position but my legs are too weak, too unused and I fall back to the floor. The stasis suit keeps my body insulated, regulating my body temperature and who knows what else, but my bare cheek rests against metal and it’s cold.

  Running feet pass my vision, a group of people scrambling down the corridor. Despite my outstretched hand, not one of them stops to help me up. In their rush, they don’t even look at me.

  Crawling it is then. I shimmy across the floor, using my arms to pull me along with my stasis shocked legs dragging behind.

  More people dash by, white coats flapping around ankles, civvy shoes pounding, but not one single booted foot crosses my vision. No orderly marching. No uniforms. Nobody shouting orders or getting these people to do something besides run around like fools. Where the hell is the rest of my unit? What is going on?

  I pause to catch my breath at the end of the corridor. My legs have finally stopped their spastic movements and I roll my ankles and flex my feet. Time to bring some order to this situation.

  Still a bit unsteady, I have to keep one palm against the wall when I rise to my feet.

  I grab the next white coat that runs past and the woman inside it stops. “What…” My voice is barely a whisper. I clear my throat and continue. “What happened?”

  Her eyes flick from my head to my feet and back to my face. “Emergency landing.”

  “Where— ”

  “An unknown planet in Sector 17.” Sector 17? Where the hell is Sector 17?

  I shake my head. “No. Where is the corps? Why…” I release her coat and sweep my arm up and down the hallway. “Not helping?”

  “You’d have to ask them. They’re the ones who shot us down.” She rushes off down the hall.

  I lean back against the wall. Shot us down?

  Broken memories start filtering in. The training station. A wink. A laugh. Greesal in the control room, skittering across the ceiling on their stick-like legs. Screaming and blood. Thomas. Thomas hurt. Thomas bloody. Thomas gone.

  My hands cradle my lower abdomen. And the baby…?

  I was in stasis. They don’t put pregnant women in stasis.

  No time to focus on that now. My limbs need to get working and I need to get the hell off this ship.

  Another group of people runs past, going in the same direction as the rest. That must be the way out.

  I slink along the wall, sliding my palm along it as I go. My legs still won’t hold me up on their own and my progress is slow. More people go by and a couple glance at me then quickly avert their eyes. No one stops to help me or even acknowledge me. Either the woman wasn’t kidding when she said the corps shot us down and these people know who I am or… well, that seems to be the only explanation.

  The smoke has gotten thicker and, with each shaky step, sinking back to the floor and crawling sounds like a better and better idea. Another group comes past and one of the men actually slams into me with his shoulder and I stumble back against the wall. The glaring look back over his shoulder as he rounds the corner tells me he did it on purpose. I narrow my eyes and force my shoulders back. At twenty, I’m the youngest flight squadron leader in corps history and I’ve worked long and hard to get where I am. I’ll be damned if these assholes are going to see me crawl. Well…see me do it again anyway.

  I straighten off the wall and close my eyes. Sweat trickles down my temples and the deep breath that’s supposed to steady me just brings more smoke into my lungs. A cough bursts past my lips, the force of it leaving me gulping in even more smoky air. The burn at the back of my throat is constant and I can’t hold back the barking exhalations, one after the other, until I’m doubled over and starting to sink to my knees.

  A few dark shadows move through the corridor, the smoke too thick for me to see them clearly. Not so proud that I’m willing to die, I reach out a hand and my fingers brush against one’s clothing. And then they’re gone, disappearing into the opaque cloud.

  Another coughing fit overtakes me and my butt hits the floor as my vision spins.

  “… ridiculous!” The shrill voice sounds from the corridor to my right. A form materializes out of the smoke and a hand reaches for my arm. “Come on.” Thin fingers wrap around my bicep and the young, brown-haired girl they’re attached to jerks her head in the direction of the exit. “Let’s go. You can lean on me.”

  I eye her lean frame. I’m small for a woman, but she still looks like she’d topple over if I rested so much as an arm on her.

  “Liz!” Another person arrives. Tall, dark and rude. The guy who shoulder checked me. He runs one hand through his black hair and looks down at my rescuer in exasperation. “Liz… We have to get out of here.”

  She releases my arm and folds hers over her chest, rolling her eyes. Total teenager move. “I’m not just leaving her behind.”

  Brown eyes narrow at me and the coldness in his voice matches that in his words. “She’s part of the corps. She can take care of herself. Besides, she’
s dangerous.”

  “Oh yeah Alex, she’s just so self-sufficient and threatening huddled on the floor.” The kid has spunk. I cover my chuckle with another coughing fit or maybe I just cough and laugh at the same time.

  “We don’t have time for this…”

  “Then why are you wasting time arguing with me?” It’s like a ping pong game, the back and forth between these two. My eyes flit between them, cataloging their similar features. He’s too young for her to be his daughter, so they must be siblings.

  “Liz…”

  “No!” She stomps one little foot against the ground and then doubles over in her own fit of coughing.

  He sighs and his eyes come back to me. “Can you walk?”

  I manage a nod and Liz beams.

  Alex grips my arm roughly, his fingers digging into my skin, and pulls me up. I don’t give him the satisfaction of a pained inhale even though my muscles are screaming again.

  “Liz, go.” She opens her mouth, but he holds one hand up. “I can’t worry about you and her at the same time. I need you to go so that I know you’re safe. We’ll be right behind you.”

  She bobs her head once and scampers off down the hallway leaving me with my extremely reluctant guide.

  “Cute kid.”

  “Shut up before I change my mind.” He leans sideways and pulls my arm over his shoulders. “If you can’t keep up, I’ll leave you behind.”

  I grit my teeth and shuffle along beside him, struggling to keep up with the long strides of his steady legs. We hunch over to avoid the worst of the smoke but it still stings my eyes and burns the back of my throat. Tears flow freely down my cheeks to mix with the sweat pouring off me in the heat. One step. Another. Each step draws another agonizing breath into my lungs as they fight to pull the oxygen out of the black mess swirling around us.

  I can’t see anything and so I just blindly hold on to Alex, trusting him to guide me out of this hell or at least depending on him to do so. Stasis shocked and still weak, my legs give way and I stumble, nearly hitting the ground before he slips his arm around my waist and pulls me closer to his side.

  The next time I stumble, I go down. The impact on my knees sends screeching pain up my body and out through my mouth in a whimper. Smoke comes rushing in my open mouth and I crumple over in yet another coughing fit, my poor overworked body fighting to expel the poisons I’ve sucked in.

  There is no more arm around my shoulders. My heartbeat pounds in my ears drowning out any other sounds and my vision is completely useless. I can’t talk through the seizing of my lungs. I’m down. I couldn’t keep up. He’s done what he said he would and left me behind. I’m as good as dead.

  I flatten myself against the floor, this time welcoming the cold of the metal against my cheek. The slightly clearer air down here tastes like heaven. I close my eyes and try to pull up Thomas’ face. It won’t be long now.

  My eyes fly open and a curse passes my lips when a foot comes down heavily on my right knee. Stupid, stupid man got lost in the smoke and now he’s stuck with me. Or not. His hand pats along the floor until he grasps my knee and follows the lines of my back until he reaches my face. He grips me under my arms and pulls me up until I’m cradled in his arms with my head settled against his chest. His bare chest?

  A soggy piece of fabric plops into my lap. “Put it over your mouth and nose.” The words rumble against my ear and I comply, the scent of laundry detergent and male filling my nose with each breath. His shirt. It’s not much, but it helps cut down the heated prickle in the back of my throat.

  I squeeze my eyes shut and bury my face into his chest to escape more of the smoke. Even though they jounce me with every step, his strides are quick and confident and it isn’t long before the air changes around me, the oppressive heat disappearing to be replaced with clean, crisp air.

  I whip the wet shirt from my face and take a big gulp of air, the chill of it a welcome relief. A few more bounding steps later and I have enough strength to turn my head. Silhouetted by the wreckage, Alex’s face is blackened with soot, trails forming on his cheeks from the tears that stream out of his closed eyes.

  He came back for me. I’m opening my mouth to thank him when his steps falter and he goes down. Flung from his arms, I land hard on my back and the air is forced from my body. The best I can do is wheeze and wait for my poor abused body to remember how to breathe. Alex is still down and I can’t even turn to check if he’s okay. My arm’s still somewhat functional though so I pat awkwardly along the dirt until my fingertips brush against hair. Whether it’s the top, side or back of his head, I have no clue. It doesn’t really matter anyway since he’s not moving.

  I can’t reach much of him, nothing more than a few locks of hair, but I rub it between my fingers and try to make what I hope are soothing noises in the back of my throat. Someone will come along soon. If not for me, definitely for him. All I have to do is wait. I’m out of stasis. I’m alive and I’ll be damned if I die before I have a chance to figure out what the hell is going on around here.

  Chapter 2

  My breath fogs against the rebreather covering my face as I survey the hastily assembled medical tent. For a bunch of civvies they handled themselves pretty well, securing the survival supplies, getting the tents up and any injured triaged almost seamlessly. A corps unit would have been quicker, but they managed to get it all set up in a few hours. They might make it after all. Me and two others are lounging around hooked up to various machines and I’ve seen at least ten more people milling about.

  I’m not sure how many people were on the ship— or how the hell I got on the ship— but from the dejected faces and fallen shoulders, I can tell there must have been casualties.

  Not my anointed rescuer though. He’s laid out on the cot next to mine, still pale and silent, his chest rising and falling the only indications that he’s still alive. His soot smeared features are a lot younger than I originally thought, maybe closer to my age, making him the youngest person I’ve seen yet. Well, besides….

  Liz looks up at me from a chair on the other side of her brother’s prone body. With the dirty looks everyone else keeps sending my way, I keep expecting her to yell at me or something but she never does. In fact, she even gives me a soft smile.

  I pull up the mask and return her smile. “That tall one said he’d be okay,” I croak out. “His lungs just got a little overworked with the smoke. Another rebreather session or two and he’ll be as good as new.”

  “Stasia.” At my quirked eyebrow she continues, “The tall one, her name is Stasia.”

  I nod and shift back and forth in the bed. “Mine’s Eva. Thanks for your help back there by the way. I don’t think I could have made it out of there on my own.”

  She looks down and brushes her toes along the ground. “I didn’t do much. I mean it was Alex that got you out. He…uh…” Her eyes find mine and the worry I see there hits me like a punch to the stomach. Poor kid. She’s got to be terrified. Her brother’s still out cold and she’s stuck with, well, me and I’m not really the motherly type. Could I have been? My hand goes to my lower abdomen at the thought and I blink my eyes to dispel the burn of tears.

  No one else seems to be paying any attention to the girl. I suppose I should…reassure her or something, at least make conversation. “So, any idea what happened up there?”

  “The E-8291 that we were in was fired upon by a C-11 class destroyer. The first plasma blast took out our primary shields and then the second took out seventy-five percent of our life support systems and the hyperdrive. Alex decided our best chance was to flee and then slingshot around a nearby planet, but he overestimated the angle and we were pulled—”

  “Whoa there.” I hold up my hand and wait for my still foggy brain to process this information. I’ve gathered we were on one of the deep space vessels and somebody else shot at us, but the ship types are completely unfamiliar to me and, as a pilot, they shouldn’t be. The disorientation is normal, but this is not. Do I have some sort
of head injury? Something that’s affecting my memory? Something is off here and it’s not just that this kid seems to know more about flying than I do right now. I pinch the bridge of my nose between my fingers. “So, Alex—your brother, right?,” she nods, “He was flying. He’s the pilot and he pissed someone off, the ship took fire and now we’re down here because he couldn’t pull off an escape maneuver.”

  “More like they crippled us just enough so that we could get away but couldn’t actually make it anywhere near safe territory,” says a dry voice from the bed beside mine. “Makes me wonder what—or who— they were after and why. Care to enlighten us oh great and mighty soldier?”

  “Me?” A cough catches in my throat and I have to pound my chest a few times before my lungs get caught up again. “Why in the hell would they be after me? I don’t even know where I am…how would they?” And who the fuck is ‘they’ anyway? The woman said it was the corps that shot the ship down, but no regiment I know would have orders to shoot down a simple non-military transport. As if waking up from stasis on their ship wasn’t weird enough…This situation just keeps getting stranger.

  “Alex, you’re upsetting her again,” scolds Liz, wagging one finger at him. “You know what Dad says, if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”

  He chuckles. “Yeah, when I was ten maybe. It doesn’t really apply at twenty-two when I’m interrogating a prisoner.”

  “A prisoner?” I shoot up in the bed and swing my legs over the side, leaning over him and jamming one finger into his chest. “Now look here. I don’t know what is wrong with you people, but today I got jolted out of stasis, shoved, elbowed, and stepped on. I have no idea where I am or what’s going on and now you want to call me a prisoner. I. Don’t. Think. So.” I give him another sharp jab in the sternum and hop off the edge of the bed. “Thanks for saving my life and all, but I’m outta here.”