Crucible: Records of the Argos Read online

  What People are Saying About This Book

  “Crucible: Records of the Argos is a series of fast-paced leaps through space, dropping into multiple worlds, moons, asteroids, and outright adventures at a breakneck speed. The characters are all rich and individual in makeup, … and are most engrossing. … The way this is written is a little different, being told from the first-person perspective of Nick Hall, and including some commentary directed to the reader, but I think it works wonderfully to more effectively draw you into the story … I would recommend Crucible to anyone seeking a good, clean, action-packed adventure with unique content and an innovative writing style.”

  Steven Robson for Readers’ Favorite

  “Author Michael J. Farlow has crafted a superb work of fiction that all fans of exciting, immersive adventures will be sure to enjoy … For science fiction fans, there are plenty of innovative details and fun, original creations, and the plot takes many of the expected turns, but then also flips the script to give some great tension and surprises. I also felt that the dialogue made the characters feel more realistic, as well as moving the major exposition points of the plot along. Overall, I would certainly recommend Crucible: Records of the Argos as a highly engrossing and imaginative read.”

  K.C. Finn for Readers’ Favorite

  “Crucible is a brilliant flight of fancy in a futuristic time that narrates mystery and intrigue in a distant system … Readers who love high adventure will get a kick from reading this book. Crucible is a solid sci-fi adventure that will keep you absorbed.”

  Vincent Dublado for Readers’ Favorite

  “In this wild, roller-coaster galactic ride created by Michael J. Farlow, my thirst for futuristic technology was quenched by the microscopic medical bots, thinking drones, self-aware artificial intelligence, and much more interesting creations. I deeply enjoyed being immersed in the different strategies of attacks and counterattacks that resemble a game of chess and exercised my mind and my ability to think ahead.”

  Foluso Falaye for Readers’ Favorite

  “Michael J. Farlow builds this story on two strong foundations: action-packed confrontations and psychological explorations of all the characters and forces motivating them. This underlying attention to detail creates both a fast-paced story and one in which all the characters, including a quirky AI, become three-dimensional …

  Decerning readers of this genre as well as high adventure will be delighted to find this story both expands the dimensions of Farlow’s original Host Saga worlds and stands well on its own as a captivating story of war and one ship’s involvement in the lasting ramifications of its outcome.”

  Diane Donovan, Senior Reviewer Midwest Book Review

  Table Of Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  About the Author

  Contact Mike:

  Coming Next

  Other Books by This Author

  Crucible

  Records of the Argos

  Copyright ©2020 by Michael J. Farlow

  First Edition: February 2021

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, redistributed, or transmitted in any form by any means, including photocopying, recording, digital scanning, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher or author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial used permitted by copyright law.

  For permissions requests, please address Wolf Press, LLC, 8000 IH-10 West, Suite 600, San Antonio, TX 78230.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-7327306-4-9 Trade Paperback

  ISBN-13: 978-1-7327306-5-6 eBook (ePub)

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2020943366

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters and incidents portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published by Wolf Press, LLC

  San Antonio, Texas

  Cover and Interior design by: Streetlight Graphics

  For new books, blog updates and to sign up for the newsletter, please go to

  www.michaeljfarlow.com

  Acknowledgements

  For helping me put things in order and to groom my art, my principal editor Tammy Salyer continues to be a godsend. And for a third set of eyes, many thanks again to Mike Peterson and Carl Johnson for their reading skills and insightful comments. As I continue to say, writing is not a thing to be done alone.

  Prologue

  From in the bridge chair next to the captain, the cargo ship Lotana’s, first officer, pleaded, “Captain Lambru, I still say this is a bad idea.”

  “And I say it is the opportunity of a lifetime, Raybald. After years of Arkon domination, there are people of other races that need the sort of cargo we have.”

  Raybald felt his pulse rise and shifted in his seat before continuing. “That is a noble outlook, Captain, but I remind you that not all the Arkon were defeated. Many withdrew deeper into the Empire territories.”

  “I know. I know all that,” replied the irritated captain as he squeezed the arm of his command chair to bleed off his tension while staring intently at his first officer. “But two freighters have already ventured into the area and had great success both with the native inhabitants and with the Arkon.”

  “They were lucky,” said Raybald as he looked away from his captain and thumped the arm of his chair with his fingers. With one last attempt to influence the captain’s intent, he turned back to face the experienced spacer. “Besides, they went to Jayton, which is right on the border of the unexplored zone. Most of their transit was through safe Consortium space. We, on the other hand, are headed deeper into the system to Tye through unprotected space.”

  “We’ve been through all this before, Raybald. Let’s focus on our navigation. We are about to come out of FTL (Faster Than Light speed) and look for the old Arkon-abandoned Asteroid 3 as a check on our course.”

  Raybald focused on the task of navigating, which was just one of his many other duties aboard the Lotana. “Exiting FTL in three… two… one,” he called out as the ship transitioned to sub-light speed.

  “Good navigation, Raybald!” praised the captain. “Right on target. Look there on the sensor screen. There is the abandoned Asteroid 3 at one thousand miles, as they would say on Earth.” In the middle of his satisfaction, the captain stiffened as the Lotana shuddered, and the bridge lights flickered.

  “What in the name of the maker was that?” the captain yelled.

  “We are under attack, Captain. An unknown ship is firing on us,”
Raybald said as the ship took another jolt.

  “Get us out of here, now!” ordered the captain. “Shift to FTL!”

  “I’m trying, Captain. But the link to engineering has been cut. Nobody in engineering is responding, and neither are the bridge controls.”

  “Then get yourself down to engineering and make the shift manually. Now!” the captain commanded.

  “On my way,” the first officer said, quickly unbuckling his seat harness and nearly falling out of his seat.

  The ship shook again as the lights went off on the bridge and the emergency lights came on, bathing the area in a disconcerting red hue followed by an unnerving silence broken only by the sounds of alarms deep inside the ship.

  Another jolt threw Lambru against his harness. His knees and thighs slammed into his console and his restraints jerked against his chest. As he pulled in a ragged breath, a new, less violent, but far more sinister bump rolled through the ship. “We’re being boarded,” was the alarming message that flowed through the anxious captain’s brain.

  The nearly panicked captain pressed the communications button on his chair and called out, “Raybald, what is happening?” No answer. He repeated the call several times with the same results.

  Captain Lambru flipped open the red cover protecting a red distress communications alert button on the left arm of his chair and pressed it. He then popped loose his restraint harness clips, jumped from the chair, and ran to the small arms locker just feet away. He used his code on the cipher lock, reached into the small locker, and withdrew a laser pistol. He stood and turned to face the bridge door as it opened, and a dark shadow stepped into the dimly lit command space. He raised the pistol to fire just as a red flash appeared from the shadow. He was staggered by pain in the arm and trying to aim the weapon just as another red flash hit and stopped all awareness.

  Chapter 1

  My name is Nickolas Hall. Nick, to my friends. I was born on Earth and stand at about the same height as my uncles at just a little over six feet. People tell me that when I first arrived in space several years ago and joined Galactic Force, I looked like a beach bum with sun-bleached blond hair, green eyes, and a deep tan. The tan has faded, and the blond hair isn’t quite the same light shade. I still keep my hair a little on the long side, which helps disguise my slightly larger than normal size head. If people ask about it, I just tell them I have a bigger brain. That usually stops them from asking questions. It’s the truth and something I inherited from my father.

  I’m sitting in the captain’s chair of the old cargo ship Argos, now an auxiliary ship acting under the umbrella of the Allied Consortium. The ship belongs to and reports through Galactic Force. As it has been since its inception, there is no formal rank structure in the Force until you reach the very senior levels of the organization. Up to now, the Force has been small enough that everyone knew the relative position and seniority of everyone else. The most frequent exception is for the person in command of a ship. Traditionally, he or she is called Captain. The Argos has been given to me to command, and that makes me the captain. I report to Commodore Stan Walters, the second most senior officer in the Force. The Consortium was formed after the defeat of the Arkon two years ago. It consists of Galactic Force (originated by my father many years ago), Zarminia, the Carian clans, and the Galactic Host. Zarminia is one of two habitable planets of the Eridani 2 system and is just under four light-years from Earth on the Orion arm. My father was the first person from Earth to discover the system and form an alliance with the planet governments. The Carians were part of Zarminian history but just decided to live in the nearby asteroid fields as they mined them and traded with the Zarminians.

  The Galactic Host were and are the most unique of the Consortium members. They are the oldest of the members and once inhabited the planet Belton, as well as several surrounding systems. Their history goes back many hundreds of years, if not thousands. The Host and the Arkon were once the same people. However, the Arkon group felt the leaders of the Galactic Host were not expanding fast enough or with the needed display of power, and they broke away. They even changed their appearance through genetic engineering to look like the grim, reptilian, bipedal creatures they now are. In short, they look like lizards.

  Over two hundred years ago, the Arkon ran the Galactic Host out of their homes and forced them into exile, what was left of them. They made a brief stop on Earth and left behind some technology, a warning of the Arkon, and an AI called Harry. My father discovered Harry and the technology left behind by the Host. From that seed of technology, he formed Galactic Force. All the friendly forces joined with each other to combat the Arkon, who had continued their plan of galactic domination. That combination became the Consortium after victory. My father also runs that at present, though he hates it. He never wanted to get involved, with all that happened, but karma or something robbed him of the peaceful, quiet life he wanted.

  Getting back to my ship, from the outside, the Argos looks like crap. The exterior looks like the old ship that it is, having spent uncounted years as an active trader plowing between the two planets of the Zarminian system as well as the Carian mining outposts. Although the hull surface has some advanced capabilities, which I’ll talk about later, the base layer is covered with off-color plates, the patina of which is the result of the many repairs over its life. Much of the old paint has thinned or ablated over time, adding to the scruffy, mottled, crappy appearance. Any visitor to the interior of this old ship would see much the same inside. Chipped paint, scratched and torn decks, dented and damaged cargo holds, and an antiquated bridge.

  I should be depressed at being given such an old piece of junk to command — but I’m not. The old ship is not what she appears to be. On the exterior and interior spaces that might be visited by outsiders, the ship looks every day its actual age. In other parts, only accessible by the crew and me, she’s brand-new. Consortium intelligence and Galactic Force spent a great deal upgrading propulsion to zero-point energy (ZPE) systems. They gather energy from space, which gives the craft power for virtually unlimited flight without the need for refueling. She still has the old deuterium-powered fusion engines but now only for emergencies. Other upgrades included command and control, crew quarters, medical facilities, galley, and many other areas of the ship.

  The most exciting things for me, however, are the new features of the old ship — defensive and offensive systems. She is, in some respects, like my first car, a 1970 Mustang. Old and faded on the outside but with a new Ford Coyote V8 engine with four hundred thirty-five horses. I also changed the exhaust system to add an axle-back system that was really loud. Matched with a six-speed manual transmission, she could blow the doors off almost anything on the street. I loved seeing the looks on the faces of other drivers when I left them in my wake. That was exciting.

  Like the old Ford, most features of the Argos are hidden from view. Things like point defense laser systems, Naskapi-derived sensor, stealth and transport systems, and an imposing array of new and old offensive weapons, including a new class of plasma cannon along with missiles, lasers, and a rail gun. I should mention that the Naskapi I refer to are actually the Nokra and were an advanced race intent on taking over all humanity. They failed, but we retained portions of their technology. We continue to call them Naskapi for simplicity. By the way, some number of them are still out there somewhere, although in a weakened state.

  In addition, my father’s friend, Phil Loomis, even loaded aboard some experimental mines. She isn’t a battleship, but she’s fast, and we think she can hold her own against a frigate class ship or even an old destroyer, if she had to. She was redesigned as an intelligence ship, unremarkable, free to travel almost anywhere without being noticed as she was doing now. She’s the first in her class. The Argos class, of course.

  Argos was sent out quickly to investigate troubling ship disappearances and disconcerting rumors from distant parts of the old Arkon empire, especial
ly a planet called Tye. Specifically, we were tasked to determine what was happening to the disappearing ships, who or what was responsible, and what threat might exist to the region and/or to the Consortium. I was also to report our findings in person or by comm drones to the Consortium through Galactic Force. Further, I would not allow the ship to fall into non-Consortium hands and would deal with the unexpected as appropriate. Supposedly, those last few words were written that way to allow the mission commander a wide range of options. Anybody who received orders like that, however, knew they were deliberately vague to protect some intel weenie or government type back home from being accused of being at fault. That practice even has a name, CYA (Cover Your Ass). It was typical in a large organization, especially with heavy government involvement. That wouldn’t happen in an entirely Galactic Force operation. But these were Consortium orders.

  The Consortium knows little about the planet following the war but assumes the Arkon have pulled out completely or have only a small force left behind. It was also suggested we might be alone in carrying out the mission in that a planetary policing system might not be in place. We were further told to be prepared for a hostile environment or one that offered very little help in fulfilling the mission.

  The one thing I was and remain most concerned about related to our quick departure is the small crew. Counting me, there are only three human members of the Argos crew. That’s enough to run the improved, heavily automated ship but not enough to do much else. The headquarters weenies said that was about the crew size of actual cargo ships of our size, but they were full of it.

  On the other hand, I was dealt a bonus when Galactic Force agreed to provide a familiar AI (that’s an Artificial Intelligence for some of you), Harry. This was sort of a gift from my biological father, Van Childs, now the leader of the Consortium of Planets as well as Galactic Force. To make this gift more significant, the majority of cargo ships do not have AIs at all. Mostly, they are too expansive and, in addition, are not needed for the humdrum life of hauling beans and bacon from Point A to Point B.