Out into the Void (A Short Story)
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The new and untested insertion destroyer “Tunny” rips through hyperspace toward the edge of the galaxy where every human-built ship able to make the long journey amasses to fend off a massacre of frontier colonies by a little-known alien species.
The five hundred marines and crew aboard the Tunny are anxious to join the defensive, but the dark and vast expanse in between hides a secret that may end their quest before it begins. Will they make it to the battlefront?
Lewis Sellers
Lewis A. Sellers is a new author in the science fiction and horror fields. He has several short stories and at least one novel that will be released this year. When he is not writing, he works as a programmer in Asheville, North Carolina. He blames his wife, a horror addict and budding author, for contaminating his high-minded science fiction with icky, sticky horror. Interesting Author Trivia: "Now, this has been years ago, but one of my favorite authors when I was younger was Fred Saberhagen. His Berserker books and original Empire of the East had influences on my day-dreams for years to come. So when I got the chance to help do the book cover scans for their website, I was "Well, [bleep], Yes." To myself, not out-loud. That would have been impolite. And people would have stared at me. More so than they do already. But anyway, *cough*, all of which, of course, goes to explain why I come to have a box-worth of Mr. Saberhagen's books sitting on a shelf, many of them signed by the man himself."
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Out into the Void (A Short Story) - Lewis Sellers
Out into the Void (A Short Story)
Published by Lewis. A. Sellers
v. 3 2013-08-06
Smashwords Edition
Copyright ©2013 by Lewis A. Sellers
ISBN: 9781301207626
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locations, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Out Into The Void
By their laughter alone you would know they were men that rushed towards death when most others would flee. Their voices were loud. Their words among each other a constant dance back and forth—between escalation to an all-out fight or falling into a fast circle, back to back, to defend one another from the death they constantly sought.
They were marines.
Down along twenty steel pull-up tables of the long multi-use room, most of the 3rd Battalion, 2nd Marine Expeditionary Regiment had just sat down to a lively breakfast. It had been the same routine for the last few weeks, ever since they'd been reassigned to the battalion's new insertion-destroyer—commissioned the same day they jumped into hyper-space above the old Mars proving grounds. A maiden jump straight into combat from Mars was a long held tradition for fighting ships. And the ceremony of it a good way to ease the nerves of all aboard.
Just off-the-factory-line, the destroyer was one of the fastest in the fleet—and that was of high importance for current interactions with the somewhat enigmatic race of beings humanity had encountered on the other side of the galaxy. Almost two years ago now. They had fell into unofficially calling them Normals, somewhat derisively, for they were first encountered in what some still referred to as the Norma arm of the galaxy. Or The New Frontier, as it was often tagged in the news feeds. What they called themselves no one knew. Or for that matter if they named things at all. A full and complete comparative study of the alien biology and whatever they had passing for linguistics in relation to Humans would have to wait till later days. Minor hit-and-run skirmishes against the human colonies had been the limit of their interest in communications since day one. By appearances these Others were done probing the human defenses along the frontier worlds now and had finally decided it was time for them to go all in.
Every able human-built ship that could make the long journey was dispatched with haste. The worry not spoken of in public was that there would be no forces left to reinforce by the time any of the outgoing ships got there. That they would drop out of hyper-space, one by one, into the midst of a vast, sprawling enemy fleet.
The destroyer Tunny lurched as it fell from band 7 hyperspace with no warning. Forced down through the lower dimensional spaces faster than its automatic gravitic compensator could handle, the hitchhiking battalion of marines, massed in the galley for 1st break, went flying over the eating tables they'd pulled up from stowed recesses just a few minutes before. Lieutenant James—the ranking officer in the room—thrust his arm through a meat-pie sailing a nose-length from his face, raking a palm against one of the large red emergency brace-brace panels. The panel lighting flicked to life instantly. Their barely touched breakfast mingled through the air with them, white and red splotches of milk and ketchup spilling over their bodies before they slammed against the bulkhead walls—yells and bones breaking through skin everywhere. The near instantaneous 15-gravity surge from the brace-brace generators housed within the opposite wall was the only thing that had prevented all those in the long dining and rec room from dying in that moment.
The artificial intelligence running in the rooms' compartmentalized computer system fought to adjust countering gravities across one wall and then another as the ship spun and tumbled back down through a half dozen different forms