The In Constant Chronicles: Warp Point
By Zachary Furr
Chapter One
Darrell Turco

Out in an asteroid field,
High above a unusual planet,
A ship has been boarded by pirates, marauders, and thieves.
The beginning of the adventures of one of the most interesting beings in the galaxy,
But he starts out as a simple man,
Who sleeps in a bed,
And has a hangover…

The loud banging on the door followed by the slightly less loud alarm clock, woke Darrell Turco. He banged his head on the upper shelf above his bunk and he cried out in pain and agony as his hangover caught up with his head. He rolled off his bunk onto the cold floor. The alarm continued, but the banging had stopped. Turco reached up and turned off the alarm. When the alarm switched off, soft lights under the floor lit the room up and caused another part of his brain to flare up in pain. ‘It never ends.’ Turco said very quietly to himself.
Turco had been on the frigate, Waking Flight, for the past three weeks. The ship was supposed to stop at all nearby planets collect the new soldiers and haul them off to the Nursery for training. Soldiers, these were children that had reached the ripe age of six, technically they were not soldiers till they set foot on the surface of the Nursery.
The banging resumed on Turco’s door. With each bang the made his head pulsed with pain as it was forced to wake up. Sanity was forced back into his system as he was taken out of the peaceful dream world.
Major Quinn had deemed it necessary to promote Turco to first lieutenant of the marine attachment of the ship. Quinn had promised Turco a solid eight hours of sleep, what Turco had not been prepared for his men to liquor him up last night. He was now regretting his new rank.
Being promoted was technically just a formality, Turco was of a pure blood race know as Whiskiens. These people could live for two to three thousand years before dying of old age. Most of Turco’s peers were captains or commanders. Just the idea of someone his age becoming a lieutenant was more insult to his people than compliment, but Turco’s militaristic superior was a hard ass and did not let promotions go for free; no matter where one descended from.
He stood up and went to wash himself. The shower looked heavenly, but Quinn sounded like he was in a hurry. Turco grabbed one of the cleansing balls, he crushed it and let the cleansing nanobots clean his body of any filth and germs that resided on his body. These cleaning bots were meant to reduce water usage on long voyages and keep the crew from spreading germs. The nanobots swept from one hand to the other, covering his head and legs, before snapping off and hitting a garbage can. He smelled of disinfected.
Turco put on his combat uniform and put on his pistol holster and ammuntions belt. He opened the door and instead of the man that was taller than himself by a full head, there was a younger man with the insignia of a corporal.
“Corporal Dermal, here to fetch you to the bridge, sir.” Dermal said as he saluted.
Turco looked groggily at the corporal. His small stature belied the man’s true strength. Turco figured that Dermal was an expert marksman based upon his focused eyes. His whole uniform was that of a soldier that enjoyed the life, crisp and clean. He also was wearing his combat uniform, but with one major difference, he carried a high powered rifle that could pierce the toughest infantry armor. Turco supposed that was also a give away to Dermal being a marksman.
Turco returned the salute, walked out of his room and towards the mess hall not the bridge. “Come with me Dermal, we need to get some eats. And some caffeine will do wonders for my state of mind.”
“But sir, we’re—“ Dermal started before being immediately cut off by Turco.
“No, no.” Turco waggled his finger in Dermal’s face. “Since the Major deemed it unnecessary to come get me himself, he can wait in the bridge. I’ll get breakfast and visit among the marines that gave me this hangover. Then go to the bridge.”
Turco was in no mood for Quinn’s shenanigans. The man was obsessed about finding the wrong in the universe and righting it. The Waking Flight had only fifty marines on it, a protection force to ensure the survival of the new troops to the Nursery. Since the troops were cryogenically frozen in pods, the marines were little more than watchdogs. The Major was always looking for a fight.
As Turco and Dermal walked down the corridor to the Mess, Turco began to notice some odd things. A reddish-brown stain on a wall, ‘That wasn’t there last night’ he thought to himself. His head really was hurting, his vision blurred, he rubbed his eyes as he continued on, he did not notice that the stain was blood from the body that was below the stain.
As they entered the Mess, Turco got a view of the outside from the large atrium window. He saw that they were orbiting a planet with a large ocean on one side and what looked like volcanic fields on the opposite side. The ring of asteroids that encircled that planet could have once been a moon. The window usually provided nothing, but a view of the void of space.
“It’s nice to see a planet for once.” Turco quietly murmured to himself.
It seemed that Dermal was dancing with anticipation. He grabbed his rifle and was getting ready for anything.
“Should you really have that rifle with you?” Turco said as if noticing the weapon for the first time.
“Sir, the ship is—“ Dermal began to report.
Turco tried his best to ignore reports, especially when his head felt like a broken glass jar. The warning about the ship went unheeded.
Turco went over to the food dispenser, grabbed a bowl of the gruel, a glass of water, and a spoon. He says gruel, but in actuality it is a nutrient fill paste that allows most soldiers to remain on the feet for a solid twelve hours without the need to even snack. It tasted like a liquefied sand with a hint of a unidentified fruit, it was nasty. Supposedly the best thing to get rid of any headaches of any sort, was the brown liquid that was right next to the gruel.
He went to a table near the window and wondered why nobody else was here. Usually he could find some marines shirking their duties, as well as some of the crew here. Today the room was empty, save for himself and Dermal. He motioned for Dermal to sit across from him. Dermal does so, he is so on edge that he places his gun on the table within easy access for a quick fire.
“So Dermal, tell me about why you are with me?” Turco asked as he ate a spoonful of the gruel.
Dermal’s eyes kept a constant watch on the door that they came through. “I have been assigned to assist you in the role of first Lieutenant.” Dermal broke his gaze from the door and stare directly into the eyes of Turco as he was putting another spoonful of the gruel into his mouth. “Sir, we need to get to the bridge now. The Major might not be there when you decide to get there, sir.”
Turco thought that he felt the deck pulse, like footsteps, heavy and slow.
Turco flicked the end of his spoon towards Dermal. “Listen to me son, the old man has moved mountains before he ever knew me.” This was a bit of an overstatement, Major Quinn had just met Turco the same day he order a mountain to move to the right as it was blocking his view of a starset. “If Quinn is in any sort of trouble it is from not…” His words trailed off as a figure approached from his side. The footsteps seemed to stop at the doorway, where a figure appeared in the side edge of Turco’s vision.
A large, behemoth of a man approached the two sitting at the table next to the large window. A grunt, so called for the sounds that the man made as he puts the armor on. His footsteps made audible thuds in the metal floor as if he was denting the floor with each step. The man, himself, was not a giant but rather, his armor made him bigger than he was. He leveled his shotgun down at the two participants and motioned for them to move.
Turco, very calmly, placed his spoon next to his empty bowl. He looked down the barrel of the gun that was bigger than his head, he then looked back at the grunt, then at the window, and then he looked at Dermal, who looked scared and angry. Turco downed his brown drink, swirled it, and slowly stood up. And spoke to the armored man.
“You’re not going to shoot me. You might destroy the window and kill yourself and anyone else in the hallways before the blast windows shut. Blasting into space is not a fun way to die.” The way he spoke was creepy and way too calm. Turco was just scared that the grunt might shoot, the gun was shown to knock down buildings in the past.
The grunt lowered his weapon. It was now pointing down at the ground. And quicker than Turco could follow, Dermal snapped up with his own rifle and fire three successive shots into the chest plate. The armor piercing rounds tore through the thick armor with little difficulty. The armored grunt looked down at the three bullet holes, then looked back up at the two men running out the door. The grunt sat down on the nearest table and dropped his gun, it thudded on the floor as the grunt fell to the ground. Turco’s glass shattered on the floor as the armor made the deck shudder.
“We could have just as easily outrun the thing instead of shooting it.” Turco said as he and Dermal ran down the hall towards the bridge.
“And risk it chasing after us? No thank you, sir. I like my life the way it is.” Dermal retorted.
”Are there any more boarders on the ship? I don’t like surprises that big.” Turco said. He was now fully awake and ready for reports.
“We were boarded about thirty minutes ago. Most of the fighting has taken place near the docking bays. Marines and crew have been battling it out, for a grunt to make it past their ranks does not bode well for our side.” Dermal reported.
Turco held up near the corner to the bridge. He withdrew his pistol as he looked around the edge. There were five soldiers protecting the bridge. Assault rifles and low impact grenades, their armaments could hold back normal soldiers, but not the grunt that Dermal had shot.
“Marines!” Turco shouted not daring to leave his cover yet.
The marines shouted the correct response for friendlies. Turco and Dermal approached them, cautiously. “It’s the lieutenant.” The lead said to the rest. “Where are the rest of the guys, sir?”
“From what Corporal Dermal has told me, the dock has become a warzone. And our ranks are thinning. A grunt attacked us in the mess hall. Dermal killed it with his rifle. Then we rushed over here.”
“The halls have been pretty quiet. It’s been a bit unsettling. Anyway I hear that the Major has been waiting for you. You know as well as I do that the man doesn’t like to wait.” The lead marine said.
With that two of the marines opened one of the bulky doors to the bridge, allow the two men to enter. The room was a mass of panic. Turco had spotted on one of the monitors that the dock had been lost and different ships, unknown to himself, were landing and depositing more troops. The raiders did not try and destroy the ship they were just trying to kill everyone on board, so that they could use the ship themselves.
Major Quinn was arguing with the ship’s Captain, Nathan Manny, about how to contain this threat. Turco stayed quietly outside of the conversation until he was called upon.
“Nathan, there is a Whiskien research base down on the planet. The raiders do not know about. According to radio traffic the local populace is afraid to even go down onto the surface.” Quinn said.
“There is no way the crew can make it to the surface. We should stay up here and defend to the last man, and then scuttle the boat.” Nathan said. “And as captain I can make the order so.”
Scuttle was a word that Turco did not like. Why blow up a perfectly good ship with a thousand child recruits? Manny was not in a good state of mind.
A loud banging could be heard on the bulkhead door. And gunfire outside of it.
“But we don’t need to die now.” Quinn started again. “We can live to fight another day. Force the Waking Flight into landing on the surface, order the crew into the escape pods and then hope the some parts of the ship are salvageable, so that we can order a ride home.”
It was at that time that Turco noticed the navigation officer. She had inputted a set of coordinates that would land the ship on the surface of the desert planet, near where the research lab was last reported to be.
Captain Manny was still railing about how he would rather die in glorious combat than run away. Quinn was trying to get him to see reason, Dermal was pointing his rifle towards the bulkhead as it dented. Another grunt was just outside of it. Turco upholstered his pistol and kept it down at his side as he was preparing to shoot the Captain.
There are some things in the Whiskien code that are almost complete acts of treason, shooting other officers is a good one, but forcing others to die with you is another. Combat is about winning, nothing else. If one is to fight a losing fight at least have an escape plan ready to go.
Turco saw an escape plan and was ready to follow through with it, but then so was the navigations officer. She stood up out of her chair, pulled out her side arm, and fired three shots into Captain Nathan Manny. That was probably the bravest thing that she ever did. Turco thought that it was a shame that he never got to know her.
The banging stopped, Dermal heard a cocking sound of an assault rifle. He hit the deck laying flat, Turco and Quinn followed suit. The three marines lay flat as the assault rounds tore through the pummeled door, killing all who were standing or sitting at their consoles.
Quinn yelled at Turco and Dermal to get to the bridge escape pod, located at the front-center floor of the room. Dermal ran past Turco and jumped right in. Turco ran to the navigation station, he gave the final order for all of the crew that was left to escape, and he made sure that the ship was going to land on the planet.
A final thump was all that the door needed to break open. Three large grunts filled the room and almost grabbed Turco as he jumped into the pod.
“Let’s get out of here.” Turco said. Quinn was manning the pilot seat and Dermal was right next to him strapped in. Turco strapped himself in, he knew that the last time Quinn flew a ship it crashed rather hard.