Chapter One

August 3, 2940

“I’ll move,” Bastien said confidently, his holographic character perking up at his words as if it had been awaiting his decision. The warrior leaped forward across the gameboard's five squares and settled into a fighting crouch in front of the large ogre warlord who was serving as the shield bearer to the enemy formation. “Attack,” Bastien ordered and a holographic dice appeared above the character.

“Come on! Come on!” Spencer Cellar called out enthusiastically as the partially translucent fifty-sided polyhedron spun in place. Then it stopped; a thirty-seven appearing on its topmost surface.

“That should hit,” Brice Uba commented as floating numbers began to appear above the dice. Attack bonus. Skill bonus. Trait additions. Gear bonus.

“Forty-nine!” Dante Saez announced as the calculations were finalized. “That will definitely hit!”

The four friends’ attention fell to the holographic characters on the board and they watched as Bastien’s martial unit jumped upward and swung its longsword at the enemy ogre’s face. A flash of light indicated impact and the vicious creature reeled backward at the blow. New numbers appeared and damage was calculated.

“My turn!” Spencer said before pulling up his character description and consulting his notes. The boy’s birthday was the previous day and the four had decided that a double session of Weapons and Warlocks was in order. Their group had only just started the tabletop holographic role-playing game the week before, having found its description in the game archive during a leisurely meal, but they were already hooked. “I’m casting a spell!”

Bastien looked up from his own notes and scanned the room that he and Dante shared, seeing the shiny walls and clean surfaces which had looked so radically different months earlier when he had been unexpectedly pulled from cryogenic sleep and into a situation that he never could have imagined in his wildest dreams. The Grace O’Malley, a UDAS military transport vessel tasked with ferrying Bastien and a large group of cadets through interstellar space, was wrecked beyond comprehension and the mystery surrounding the ship’s damage only deepened as Bastien came to learn that the crew had disappeared.

As Spencer took his turn, Bastien reflected on how challenging those first few weeks had been. Long days. Emotional nights. Bastien’s anxiety had been near overwhelming during the slow repairs that he and Dante, whom Bastien had pulled from his own cryogenic sleep shortly after waking, had attempted and had stayed impossibly high as more and more cadets were pulled from blissful ignorance to aid in the efforts to restore the Grace. Months had passed, the cadets had come together as a crew, the ship had been made livable, and Bastien had found ways to cope. A great deal of self-reflection and forgiveness, Bastien thought calmly just as Spencer’s fireball singed a nearby ogre marauder, or else I never would have made it.

The Grace eventually left the nebula in which she’d been floating and the crew discovered, to their horror, that they were nowhere near Avalonian space. Indeed, a careful review of the nearby stars told the stunned cadets that they were no longer in the Milky Way Galaxy. Far beyond human space and with no way home, the next major discovery was that this particular galaxy contained varied and intelligent alien life. With the Milky Way devoid of aliens, it fell to Bastien and his fellow cadets to make humanity’s only known first contact with another sentient spacefaring civilization.

Then everyone started shooting.

“Hit him,” Dante called out and Bastien snapped his eyes to the game board, realizing that his roommate now had control of the board. Things weren’t looking too good for his party, though, and Bastien began to wonder if their characters would be able to eke out a victory. They had charged into this hidden temple without much of a plan and the ogre ambush seemed to be pretty effective. Chaos of battle, for sure.

The crew had been victorious in the two combats the Grace had seen since arriving in this new galaxy, Bastien reflected as he watched the pieces on the board move around, but he quietly hoped that those two battles would be the only confrontations the Grace would see before she found her way back home. They weren’t playing a game out here in unknown space and any misstep could, and likely would, doom the nearly two hundred souls on board. An ogre’s arrow slammed into Dante’s character as the dice above it indicated a successful strike. It wouldn’t do for Bastien and the crew to simply assume that the dice would always be favorable to the Grace when and if she had to unleash her guns.

“You got it,” Spencer said, patting Dante on the shoulder. “I’m going to move over there on the next turn. Brice?”

“I’m going to attack,” Brice said. “I think I can kill this guy.”

Bastien shook his head a bit and refocused on the game. Then he frowned. “Hey, guys?” he said as Brice’s character scored a non-fatal hit on his opponent. “It is me or does this board not look so good?”

“What do you mean?” Dante asked while Spencer and Brice dug through their game menus, obviously looking for ways to maximize their characters’ utility.

“I mean… we are kinda spread out and there are more ogres in this temple than I thought there would be.”

“We can take them,” Spencer said offhandedly.

Bastien wasn’t so sure. He tapped away at his own menu and saw that each character was wounded, various weapons were near unusable due to being damaged during the preceding fights, and the ogres were using tactics that were making it hard for Bastien and the others to get direct hits. “Well…” he began before issuing another order to his own character. It did little good. “Maybe we should retreat?”

“No way!” Dante said with a laugh. “We got this!”

“Yeah, for sure,” Brice added. “Positive thought. Just think positive thoughts.”

Three rounds later and Bastien felt himself biting his lip in frustration. Brice was down. Spencer was out of magical essence. Dante was pinned between two mostly healthy enemies. “And there goes my sword…” Bastien said as his role failed and his weapon flew from his hand. The fight had gone from bad to worse.

“Uh oh,” Dante muttered and Bastien observed that his friend had finally begun to see the whole picture. They were, in fact, about to lose.

“We can still pull it out,” Spencer argued as he busily tapped at his screen. “If I can just get close enough to give Brice the potion and if you can get those ogres off Dante, then we can—”

“We’re done,” Brice interrupted with a deep sigh.

“Ugh…” Dante exclaimed. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I don’t believe it,” Spencer said defiantly as he looked between everyone. “CB? Tell them we still have a chance.”

Carpenter Boineau, the ship's internal artificial intelligence, chimed in. “There is a two point seven five nine chance that your party will be victorious in this combat”

“I cast fireball,” Spencer said, undeterred, as the other three glanced between themselves. It missed.

“Now there is a one point two three eight percent chance your party will be victorious in this combat,” the AI corrected.

“I think we should call it,” Bastien said before the normally unfazed Spencer could snap at the computer for its mathematically informed pessimism. “We can save it here and maybe try to finish this fight next time.”

“Or start back from before we entered the temple,” Brice suggested, clearing his screen as his holographic character disappeared. “I think that might be when things started to go wrong.”

“Yeah,” Dante said as he, too, cleared his screen. “We sort of overestimated our abilities. We’ll get it next time.”

Spencer groaned dramatically, obviously wanting everyone to notice his displeasure at ending the game session at this low moment, but none rose to his bait so he shrugged and started packing up. “Gamma shift is almost over,” he observed.

“Don’t remind me,” Brice responded. “I’m not looking forward to the system debug I have to start.”

“Well, I have to crawl through the engine’s tertiary coolant container to replace the injector in the back end,” Dante announced and both Spencer and Bastien snorted at one-upmanship. His work was going to be far dirtier than Brice’s own.

“And…” Brice continued slowly, “the tactical display on the bridge is having a malfunction with the targeting scanners and I think I’m going to have to rebuild the code from scratch.”

“Deck seven has a problem with its plumbing and I might have to swap out the waste reclamation unit,” Dante countered with a cheeky grin.

“I need to reinitialize the environmental control unit because the variance is off by three microns.”

“You’re not going to be able to do that this shift because I have to replace the EVC temperature gauges and my repair takes priority.”

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Brice, usually so even-keeled and unflappable, looked exasperated for a moment before he looked over to Bastien. “Can I request to be on a different shift than him?”

“Request denied,” Bastien said with a grin as the other two boys chuckled. Bastien took a moment to look at his three friends as they continued to pack up and joke with one another.

Dante had been the first person Bastien had woken on the Grace, the fourteen-year-old the best engineer out of the cadet pool and the one who deserved most of the credit for the current state of the ship. He had done an amazing job with the repairs and was the Grace’s current Chief Engineer with the rank of lieutenant commander. Bastien was certain that they’d never have made it without Dante and considered the slightly older teen to be his closest friend onboard.

As the ship’s operations officer and a lieutenant, Brice was a wizard with software and coding. Whereas Dante had practically rebuilt the Grace, Brice had made her functional. He’d gotten the computers in order. He’d tied all the relevant systems together. He ensured that consoles worked and systems didn’t degrade. Brice knew his business and Bastien was glad that the fifteen-year-old had been onboard when disaster had befallen the Grace.

The newly turned thirteen-year-old Spencer was, like Dante and Brice, part of the senior staff but his role didn’t involve maintaining the ship directly. Instead, the young lieutenant served as the Grace’s chief steward and handled ancillary personnel issues, supply logistics, food and cleanliness matters, and cargo concerns. It was a role that involved wearing many proverbial hats but Spencer handled it with aplomb. The crew, Bastien knew, had come to rely on him.

“Well,” Brice began as he stood and stretched, “I guess it’s time to get to work.”

“Not me,” Spencer quipped. “I’m going to bed.”

“Try not to turn the temperature in our room too low, please?” Brice gave Spencer a pleading look.

“I’ll set it to arctic instead of deep space,” Spencer responded dramatically as he picked up his tablet. “How about that, my dear roommate?”

“I hate you.”

“You just hate the cold.”

Bastien had to chuckle privately to himself as he glanced between the bickering roommates, the dichotomy of their friendship always threatening to bring a grin to his face. Brice was serious and generally unhurried. Spencer was goofy and high-energy. Brice had the massive frame and musculature needed to compete in contact sports. Spencer was small and wiry. Brice had jet-black hair and equally dark skin. Spencer was blond and pale. “Spencer, please don’t antagonize Brice,” Bastien cut in as the two began to get more animated. “I don’t want to have to replace him at operations if he ends up freezing to death.”

“Says the person who always complains when I drop the temperature in our room down to a comfortable level,” Dante said immediately and the other two started laughing.

Bastien frowned good-naturedly at his roommate, their own ongoing temperature argument more funny than frustrating. Dante, with his Spanish heritage, preferred it a bit warmer in their room than Bastien’s own northern European genetics enjoyed. “I don’t like having icicles form on our ceiling, Saez,” Bastien answered with a shrug. Dante snorted and made a gesture to Spencer and Brice that suggested Bastien was crazy. Bastien pretended not to notice.

The banter continued for another few moments before Spencer and Brice left, one heading to the bridge while the other headed toward his bunk. Bastien saw them out while Dante finished packing a small bag with some of the projects he wanted to bring back to Engineering. Their quarters always had small mechanical projects lying about so seeing Dante scoop various bits of tech into his carry case was not a surprise. “Alright, I’ll see you later,” Dante said as he finished and made for the door.

“Sound’s good,” Bastien said, giving his friend a fist bump as Dante left.

Bastien scanned the room for a moment to make sure that things were neat and tidy before looking over to his bed. His shift would start in a little over eight hours and it would be a good idea to get some sleep before going on duty. Bastien wasn’t particularly tired, though, so he decided that a quick walk around the ship would help him settle in. As first officer, checking in on the crew was part of his responsibility and stretching his legs would give him the perfect opportunity to do just that.

The Grace’s three-shift rotation meant that a third of the crew was always on duty at any given time. The corridors reflected this unending activity. Crewmen worked on systems’ panels at various junctures while others moved about with purpose. Bastien greeted them all while on his walkabout, exchanging a few words with each person he encountered and asking them if they had anything to report. Everything, he was told, was normal. Bastien ran into off-duty crewmen as well, the former cadets heading to the mess hall or the gym or one of the lounges where they might study or socialize. They, too, had little to report.

It was as Bastien was passing the Tertiary Fabrications Plant that he encountered two senior officers from the recently concluded Gamma shift; thirteen-year-old Ito Hiromi and fifteen-year-old Noah Wright engaged in an animated discussion about propulsion metrics. “I don’t care,” the slim officer with platinum blond hair was saying as she waved her hand dismissively in the air. “An increase by point zero two would be noticeable once we are at max thrust.”

“I think you’re crazy,” her stocky fair-skinned companion responded as he ran his hand through his dark hair. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about!” Hiromi countered testily.

“Everything alright?” Bastien asked as he approached, grinning at the feisty exchange between Commander Ito and Lieutenant Commander Wright. Hiromi and Noah had become close since waking on the Grace and Bastien had noticed that the pair’s friendship included lots of animated arguments. It was, he suspected, part of the reason they enjoyed each other’s company; finding someone whom they could verbally spar with fit with both officers rather direct personalities. “Propulsion metrics?”

“It’s nothing,” Hiromi said with an eye roll. “Noah’s just wrong about something.” Noah shook his head but didn’t respond to the bait.

Bastien didn’t either. “How’d Gamma shift go?”

“Fine,” Noah responded. “We’re going to go eat and then watch a movie.”

“I have some studying to do afterward,” Hiromi added, “and Noah is going to meet with some of his people to talk about tactical stuff.”

“Much more interesting than your pilot stuff,” Noah deadpanned. The two broke out into another argument but Bastien wisely decided not to engage and slipped away, the ship’s Chief Pilot and Chief Tactical Officer not appearing to notice his escape. All was normal with them, it seemed.

Bastien soon entered Sickbay and glanced about to see who was present. Having been a doctor’s apprentice prior to his enrollment in the military, Bastien felt very comfortable within the medical bay and had endeavored to take several regular shifts there so as to keep up his medical training. Safiya Asfour, the fifteen-year-old Chief Medical Officer holding the rank of Lieutenant Commander, was present and was in the process of looking over some test results. Beside her was sixteen-year-old Natasha Ivanov who had elected early on not to enter the chain of command and held, due to being the most scientifically minded crewmen on the ship, the rank of Specialist. The two were deep in conversation.

Natasha was a tall willowy young woman with jet black hair and a reserved countenance. Safiya, always seen wearing both a traditional hijab and a wide smile, was approachable and genial. Despite their differing personalities and the fact that they served on different shifts, Bastien was unsurprised to see the two together. Their mutual passion for learning – Natasha with hard sciences and Safiya with medicine – had led to the two bonding during those early days on the Grace and it was for this reason that the two had elected to become roommates. Spot one and you often, unless duty prevented it for some reason, spotted the other.

Bastien meandered over to see what they were working on.

“Hello Bastien,” Safiya said as she shifted slightly so as to include Bastien in their discussion. “Everything alright?”

“Just stretching my legs before bed,” he responded, looking at the data on the console. “What are you working on?”

“New radiation protocols,” Natasha responded. “It occurred to me that, with us being in a different galaxy, there may be minor fluctuations to the background radiation that would require slight modifications to both the ship’s active and passive radiological measures.”

“Natasha asked me to look over some of her findings,” Safiya continued. “So far, we aren’t finding anything alarming.”

Bastien could see that the test results on the screen looked unremarkable. “You’ll let the senior staff know if anything changes?”

“Of course,” Natasha said, her tone almost incredulous that he would need to make the request.

“Great,” Bastien added as he looked at the two crewmen studying on the other side of the bay. The Grace had been required to pad out its medical staff so Safiya and Bastien had encouraged some of the younger cadets – those with few certifications and no distinct educational trajectory – to consider working in the medical corp. “How are they doing?” Bastien said, tilting his head to indicate the junior personnel.

“Well,” Safiya answered. “They’re getting better and better with each shift and their certifications are coming along nicely.”

“Many of the younger cadets who have taken positions in the science division are also doing well,” Natasha added.

Bastien looked at the two senior officers and smiled. “Glad to hear it.” The three discussed ship business for another few moments before Bastien yawned and excused himself. As he left the medical bay, he couldn’t help but think about how lucky the Grace was to have Safiya and Natasha on board.

It only took a few minutes for Bastien to reach his quarters but, before he could enter and get some shut-eye, movement down the hall caught his attention and he turned to put his back to the wall as the ship's senior officer, fifteen-year-old Cait Ó Faoláin, made her way down the corridor. She was holding a notepad and was intently studying it, Bastien suspecting she was going to walk right by without knowing she’d bypassed her executive officer.

“Captain,” Bastien said right as Cait reached him and the slightly older girl startled at the unexpected address.

“Oh, Commander,” she responded as she stopped. “Sorry. I was focused on this engineering report from Gamma shift.”

“Anything interesting?”

“They had been forced to reroute some power from the Backup Bridge two hours ago due to an unexpected spike in the Deck Eleven grid. I was just heading there to take a look myself. What about you?”

Bastien was unsurprised that Cait would want to go check out the matter herself. A very active commander, Cait liked to set eyes on any issues that cropped up and many of the crew had grown accustomed to her appearing in unexpected places to evaluate the ship’s systems and crew performance. Thanks to the level of automation on board and each crewman having an Integrated Biomechanical Processor – a small versatile computer inserted near their brain – it was not particularly necessary for individuals to remain at their posts during the entirety of their shift.

“Did a bit of a walkabout,” Bastien answered. “Heading to bed.”

“Find anything interesting on your walkabout?” she asked.

“Everything seems to be in ship shape. Quiet, too.”

“Good,” Cait acknowledged. “We’re two days out from Falm’shma and I’d like there to be no surprises when we arrive.”

“There won’t be,” Bastien prophesized. “Things have gone smoothly since leaving Freeport Mauve.”

“Fingers crossed,” she said with a smile. “Alright, I’ll let you get to bed. See you in eight hours.”

“I’ll relieve you then,” Bastien said as Cait continued on her way.

Though Bastien had been the first cadet to wake up and he had led the repair efforts for quite some time, the decision was ultimately made to make Cait the acting captain after all the members of the future senior staff were brought out of cryogenic sleep. She was older than Bastien, had more certifications, and generally had the right temperament to take command. Bastien had not been jealous when Cait became the ship’s commander and was honored when she had made him her first officer. Since then, their working relationship had been one of congeniality and competence. Bastien liked Cait quite a bit and was happy she was in command.

With another yawn and putting Cait out of mind, Bastien entered his quarters and got ready for bed.