AlCent Sagas: Book One – Formation Excerpt

Hello, everyone, and a big welcome to my newest subscribers! As 2024 had been good for me (except for hurricane Helene), and as many of you have become new friends, either from meeting me at a book fair, sci-fi con, or online, I decided to celebrate by offering a free excerpt of Book One. It is part of chapter two titled Malabar Attack, and it’s a good introduction to some of the characters and one of the many types of settings you can expect to find in the series. It’s only 1700 words long, so it’s only about as long as a short story. (I like short chapters.) It takes place on the bridge of the interplanetary cargo liner Malabar on a routine voyage between the stars of the binary star system Alpha Centauri. The vessel uses 1 G of thrust to provide artificial gravity on board. Wilson is a novelist who frequently travels aboard to write his books and is a witness on the bridge to what happened. Enjoy! And Happy New Year!

Excerpt from Chapter Two of AlCent Sagas: Book One – Formation –

Wilson looked up at the starry panorama again. “I guess I’ll go get some lunch.” He turned to go but heard steps on the spiral staircase and someone say, “Captain on the bridge.”

Frank casually turned back to his console and began paging through various engineering screens. Wilson backed away and watched as the captain, a short, white-bearded man with an austere expression, walked over to the navigation station. The officer of the watch, tall and good natured, joined him there. Wilson listened closely and could see that Frank was listening too.

“Where away?” the captain asked.

“Zero two five, negative one five degrees, moving along its orbit,” the officer said, pointing to the star chart. He spoke with a delicate Irish brogue. “I’ll put it on the hologram.”

He made an adjustment, and Wilson could see a three-dimensional image appear before the two men. It was a faint, hazy blue sphere and at the center was a tiny yellow cylindrical object that Wilson guessed to be the Malabar. At the top of the sphere, the words “Collision Warning” flashed in red, and ahead of the ship floated a red speck.

“How large is it?” the captain asked.

“About one kilometer long and three-quarters of a kilometer at its widest point.” The officer of the watch made an adjustment on the console and a yellow line appeared that ran through the axis of the ship and out ahead to the edge of the screen. A red line also appeared before the object heading in the same direction.

“Let me adjust the scale,” the officer said. He did so, and the ship also became a speck. The red speck was extremely close now, but at this scale the paths clearly converged at a point ahead of the ship.

“How much time to intersection?” the captain asked.

The officer looked down at the console. “Present course and acceleration indicates forty-eight minutes to intersection.”

“Hmm,” the captain grunted.

“Shall I calculate a course correction?”

“No.” The captain shook his head gently. “If we kill the engines for ten minutes or so, we can allow it to pass well ahead of us.”

“We’ll have to put everyone at maneuvering stations.”

“We would for a course correction too,” the captain said. “Pass the word for maneuvering stations in fifteen minutes. Then plot the trajectory of that asteroid. I want it in our charts as well as in a report to the ACD.”

“Aye, Captain,” the officer said. “Shall I label it ‘Ibrahim Khan’ in the charts? The honor goes to the discoverer.”

“No,” the captain said with a gentle smile. “Don’t name it after me. Name the asteroid Malabar.”

The officer returned the smile. “Aye, sir.” He took the intercom microphone from the side of the navigation console and held it to his mouth. “Attention, crew members and passengers, this is First Officer Finley. The ship will be going to maneuvering stations in approximately fifteen minutes for an unscheduled course correction. Crewmembers are to see that all loose gear is secured, and passengers are reminded to muster with their steward at their designated maneuvering station. Maneuvering stations for the ship will last approximately ten minutes. Thank you.” The officer returned the microphone and bent over the chart table to work out the asteroid’s trajectory.

“I guess I’d better go,” Wilson said.

“You can stay up here, if you like,” Frank said. “Just ring your steward and tell him where you are. He only needs to know that you’re strapped down somewhere.”

He handed Wilson the phone receiver and Wilson made the call. When he handed the phone back, he asked, “Where should I be?”

Frank finished putting away the loose items on his console and snapped a lid onto his coffee cup before pointing to a place on the left side of the helm station. Wilson walked around and saw two pads on the deck where he could strap his shoes down. Above it, on the console, a waist strap lay neatly folded against a cushioned pad.

“The space port pilot usually stands there during docking,” Frank said.

Wilson released the waist strap and slipped his shoes under the foot straps. As he did so, a short metal tab rose from the deck and slid into place behind his heel, holding his foot gently but firmly in place. He connected the two ends of the waist strap around him and pulled it tight, pressing him against the cushion.

“Yeah,” Frank said, “you don’t want to be down in the passenger lounge right now, anyway.”

“Why’s that?”

Frank smiled. “Unscheduled maneuvering station and nobody’s prepared for it. Stomachs full of liquids et cetera.” He chuckled. “It’ll be a real barf-o-rama.”

Wilson let out a short laugh and winced visibly. He remembered the advice against space sickness: keep your stomach full and dry. He was glad he hadn’t had that second cup of coffee with breakfast.

“At least we don’t have a lot of passengers on this trip,” Frank said. “Can you imagine an unscheduled maneuvering station with a full load of passengers? Niagara barf-o-rama!”

“In zero G,” Wilson said and felt the bile rise in his throat at the thought.

He was saved from further conversation by the watch officer’s voice speaking into the microphone. “Attention, all crew and passengers. The ship will be going to maneuvering stations in approximately five minutes. Secure all loose gear. All personnel not currently on watch should be mustered at their assigned station with seatbelts fastened. Maneuvering stations will last for approximately ten minutes.”

Wilson listened as the various stations called in to report that their area was secured and all personnel were present or accounted for. Around him on the bridge, the other crewmen were fastening seatbelts. Once all areas had reported in, the watch officer stepped over to where the captain was studying the asteroid on a scanner display. “The ship is ready for maneuvering stations, Captain.”

“Very well. Pass the word for maneuvering stations. Helm, stand by to decrease power.”

“Stand by to decrease power, aye,” Frank said, as his hand moved over to a computer control on the console.

Wilson glanced over to the scanner console where the captain stood staring hard at the image of a nondescript, potato-shaped rock, pocked with various-sized craters. But there was something odd about the image, something generic. He heard the watch officer pass the word that the ship was now at maneuvering stations and saw him take up his position next to the chart table. Then the captain spoke.

“Helm, reduce main engine thrust slowly to zero output.”

Frank repeated the command and began tapping a key at his console. Wilson listened as the dull, far-away, ever-present humming subsided. At the same time he felt a sensation of lightness, as if his internal sense of equilibrium was no longer a valid reference. Even his eyes seemed to be lying to him, because for them nothing had changed. The only things true and stable now were the straps that held him to the console and to the deck. He placed a hand on the console to steady himself.

All eyes on the bridge were now focused on the navigational hologram. Everyone held a collective breath as the computer recalculated the courses and speeds. The specks on the hologram were much closer now, and as he watched, the collision warning at the top of the image winked out. The watch officer glanced over at the captain and smiled. The captain nodded. Wilson felt a nudge on his arm and glanced over to see Frank pointing toward the overhead screen.

“Keep looking up and you can watch as it passes ahead of us.”

Wilson nodded and looked up.

Just then a buzzer sounded at the navigational console, and Wilson glanced over to see the words “Collision Warning” flashing in red again. The watch officer looked at the captain, his face puzzled. The asteroid could not have changed course, and the Malabar had stopped accelerating. It was impossible for the two objects to be on a collision course again, but there it was. The captain flashed a look toward the sensor screen. The generic asteroid had not changed appearance at all. He turned back to the navigational console and said, “Adjust the scale.”

The watch officer did so, and Wilson saw that the two objects, despite the magnification, were very close now. Even an amateur space-traveler could see that there was not enough time to turn the ship around and power up the main engines.

“Helm,” the captain said, “maneuvering thrusters, full astern, now.”

Frank did not take the time to repeat the order but darted his hand across the console. An indicator showed the retro rockets at full burn, and Wilson felt his feet tighten against the straps. The effect, though small, proved enough. The collision warning blinked out and the buzzer was silenced, but the tension on the bridge remained. Something was still very wrong.

On the navigational hologram, the red speck intersected the yellow line of the Malabar’s track, and Wilson looked up again at the main screen to see the troublesome rock. But as he watched, he saw a vessel pass into view. It looked like a freighter with extra fuel tanks bolted in a ring at the stern of the ship and seemed to be in a state of disrepair. It was so close that Wilson could see a red glow from the vessel’s bridge windows. He noticed the captain and the first officer watching the sensor screen. He looked himself and saw the same generic asteroid, much closer now but totally unchanged. Even the angle had not varied.

Wilson looked back up at the main screen just in time to see two flashes at the ship’s side. From the flashes he saw two thin cylinders streaking rapidly toward the Malabar.

“Oh my God,” Frank said. “Captain! Two missiles incoming!”

Wilson saw the two missiles fly past the view screen. Immediately he heard two dull booms and felt the deck shudder beneath him. The workstation lights went out, the consoles and viewing screens went black, and the bridge of the Malabar was thrown into total darkness.

From Author James Crawford’s website found here – https://authorjamescrawford.com/

Novels by James Crawford (available in print, eBook, and audio book) –

Mariner Valley – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0141N9UXO

Seed of Aldebaran – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08SHXTRMP

AlCent Sagas Book One: Formation – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0CQ5C3TQT

AlCent Sagas Book Two: Revelation – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0D2FRH6Q8

AlCent Sagas Book Three: Investigation – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0D5SBFYMW

AlCent Sagas Book Four: Desperation – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0D8767LHL

AlCent Sagas Book Five: Confrontation – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0D9PPTX6G

A Noble Paradise – https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00QG6LZ10

Cover artist Wojtek Kapusta – https://www.artstation.com/kapucha76

Audible narrator Lyle Blaker – https://www.acx.com/narrator?p=AXZPXFQRN07M3