Beyond: Space Opera Read online

  B E Y O N D

  A Space Opera Collection

  BEYOND: SPACE OPERA © 2015 Milo James Fowler

  "Captain Quasar and the Kolarii Kidnappers" was first published by Perihelion Science Fiction © 2015 Milo James Fowler

  "The Ungreat Escape" was first published by Cosmos © 2012 Siobhan Gallagher

  "All Comms Down" was first published by Perihelion Science Fiction © 2015 Anne E. Johnson

  "Remembrance Day" was first published by Electric Spec © 2010 Simon Kewin

  "The Lion's Den" was first published by Ray Gun Revival © 2012 Devin Miller

  "Captain Clone" was first published by Ray Gun Revival © 2012 Deborah Walker

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  C O N T E N T S :

  Captain Quasar and the Kolarii Kidnappers

  The Ungreat Escape

  All Comms Down

  Remembrance Day

  The Lion's Den

  Captain Clone

  Origin Stories

  Captain Quasar and the Kolarii Kidnappers

  by Milo James Fowler

  Captain Bartholomew Quasar's eyes could have been playing tricks on him, but he doubted it. They were so seldom unreliable, after all.

  "Tell me, Hank." He leaned over to his very hairy helmsman, tied as he was with his hands behind his back—only Hank, being a four-armed Carpethrian, had twice as many hands, all tied with a rough hemp rope. "They looked like human children, didn't they?"

  "Silence!" commanded the tribal leader—a chief or a chieftess. Quasar couldn't be sure. He'd never met a Kolarii before. As a race, they resembled turtles but without the shells to slow them down. From what he'd seen since they captured him and his team, the Kolarii moved slowly enough as it was. "You have trespassed into our village and have no voice among our people until one has been granted to you. Which it has not. So you will keep silent, Human."

  "I will not." Quasar raised his tanned, chiseled chin and narrowed his heroic gaze. "Those children don't belong to you. You stole them from the human settlers in Zeta Colony 6, and we're here in loco parentis to take them home. All twelve of them. No child left behind."

  "Loco parentis ..." Hank grunted quietly. "Their parents are crazy, sir?"

  "With worry, perhaps," Quasar said. "They wouldn't dare break the treaty by entering Kolarii lands. There is a strictly enforced boundary between what is human and what is Kolarii on this moon."

  Scowling, the Kolarii chief motioned two spear-toting, muscular warriors toward Quasar. They wouldn't reach him for a minute or two, due to their sluggish speed. It was a wonder that the Captain, Hank, and Security Chief Gruber (also tied next to Quasar) had been overtaken by such slowpokes. But then again, the Kolarii had outnumbered them ten-to-one and had been well-armed with all manner of serrated and sharp projectile weapons, while Quasar and company had each carried only a nonlethal stunner.

  "Well, Hank?" Quasar persisted, nudging the surly Carpethrian with an elbow. "Didn't they look human to you?"

  "Humph," Hank grunted noncommittally.

  "Big help you are." Quasar glanced at the two fierce Kolarii warriors headed his way, still a couple meters out. Then he turned his attention to Gruber, garbed as he and Hank were in Kolarii cloaks. They made everyone present look like spooky druids in the middle of a pagan, slow-motion ritual. "Back me up here."

  "Yes indeed, Captain, they sure did look human to me." Gruber stared at the Kolarii and didn't blink. Afflicted with a peculiar perspiration disorder, he was sweating so profusely that his soggy cloak made him look like a large drowned rat. The heat of the moon's twin suns didn't help matters. "You think we should maybe try to escape, sir? I'm almost certain we could outrun them."

  "No need." Quasar met the Kolarii chief's stern gaze with steely confidence. "No harm will come to us. The Kolarii have a treaty set in stone—literally—with the human colonists. Our friendly chief here would not risk disturbing this moon's decades of peace by roughing us up."

  "Chieftess!" the chief corrected.

  "Fifty-fifty chance," Quasar muttered. "Glad we've got that straight now."

  "It was the Humans who stole our children. We have brought them home, and now you threaten their safety—Human spies sent to sneak and steal from us. The treaty is null and void!"

  The warriors were now upon Quasar and company, gripping hold of the Captain, Hank, and Gruber and shaking them in place. It was an odd sensation, akin to slow-dancing. But not nearly as romantic.

  "I'm sorry." Quasar wagged his chin toward the collar of his uniform, mostly hidden by the cloak he wore. "Sometimes my translation device can be a little ... off-target, shall we say? I'm sure I misunderstood. You could not have possibly said the treaty with the colonists is null and void. Because that would mean this situation has gone from bad to much, much worse."

  "That's what she said, Captain." Hank's fur swayed as he was slowly shaken side to side by the Kolarii warrior. Quasar wasn't sure what a seasick Carpethrian looked like, but he had a pretty good idea.

  "You came to us armed—" The chieftess held up the three stunners her warriors had confiscated from Quasar and his team. "—trod upon our land, and made threats against us. All of your actions violate the treaty. You will be punished for your dangerous trespasses and sins. Throw them into the pit!"

  Warriors gradually surrounded Quasar, Hank, and Gruber and slowly escorted them toward the edge of a gaping hole in the ground a few meters away.

  "I don't like the looks of this, Captain." Gruber struggled against the warriors who held him, but their collective grip was too strong for him. "What do you suppose is down there?"

  "Something hungry. Or lethal. Probably both," replied Quasar. "But have no fear. This is all for show, trust me."

  "You will die!" the chieftess shrilled. The Kolarii released a terrifying tumult of war cries, laughter, and what sounded like off-key opera.

  "Captain." Hank cleared one of his twin throats, giving his voice an oddly harmonic quality. "For argument's sake, what if they do plan to kill us?"

  Quasar winked. "I've got everything under control."

  Hank didn't look convinced. Neither did Gruber. Half an hour later when they finally reached the pit and the Kolarii warriors hurled Quasar headfirst into it, the Captain realized he'd been very wrong about the situation from the start.

  "Wait a minute!" he hollered as he plummeted headlong into fetid darkness, stretching out both his legs in a full split. His boots dug into the opposite walls of the pit and halted his descent toward whatever hissed and snapped far below. He imagined python-sized sand snakes, but he hoped he was wrong about that. As much as he'd always been curious about what a sand snake looked like, and as much as he'd hoped to catch a glimpse of one, this was not how he'd imagined first contact with such exotic creatures. Dangling below his own legs, he struggled in vain against the bonds on his wrists. "You appear to be serious. I understand that now. And I respect it."

  "Is he talking to himself down there?" said one of the Kolarii who'd tossed him in.

  "Praying, more likely," said the other one.

  "Tell your chieftess I will discuss terms!" Quasar raised his voice. "And be quick about it!" His boots slid unexpectedly, and he shoved them into the pit's earthen walls with all his might.

  "What did he say?"


  "He would like an audience with the chieftess."

  "He is still alive?"

  "Not for long, if you keep lollygagging!" Quasar grimaced and grunted. He'd always taken pride in his flexibility, but it had not been put to the test in such a fashion before. "She'll want to hear what I have to say."

  Thankfully, the chieftess was nearby, and it didn't take more than ten minutes for her to make her way to the edge of the pit.

  "Still alive, you say? I do not believe it. No one could survive such a fate," said the chieftess as she approached. "Human, are you down there? In one piece?"

  "Yes," Quasar managed, gritting his teeth and sweating from every pore as he strained with his leg muscles to keep from meeting whatever horrible death awaited him below. "I would like to make a proposition. Allow us to return to Zeta Colony 6 and find out if what you say is true. About the colonists stealing your children and somehow turning the little tykes into humans. As bizarre and unlikely as that sounds, I promise you, the perpetrators will be brought to justice if such is the case."

  Silence answered him. Had he blacked out? Fallen to his death? Been swallowed by a massive, scaly creature? Was he currently being digested by the thing's horrid innards? He couldn't feel his legs. He had no idea if they still held him. But if this was how he met his demise, so be it. He would be spared a considerable amount of groin pain as a result.

  Before he knew precisely what was happening, a hook on a long pole had taken hold of his bound wrists and hoisted him up out of the pit. Dangling in midair, he rotated past the surprised-looking Kolarii warrior who held him and faced the equally surprised-looking chieftess. Apparently, neither one of them had ever gone fishing for Humans before.

  "You would do this for us?" she said in a hushed voice. "Be our detective?"

  Quasar couldn't be sure his collar's translation software had gotten that last word right, but he nodded anyway. "I give you my word, Chieftess. If what you say about the colonists is true, then they will pay for what they have done." He forced a chuckle, despite the tearing pain in his shoulders as he was suspended by both arms behind his back. "You can throw 'em in your pit for all I care."

  The chieftess raised her arms in exultation, and her warriors' tumult returned as terrifying as before. They ceased abruptly as she dropped her arms and pointed at Quasar.

  "To ensure that you are indeed true to your word, Human, your hairy friend and your sweaty friend will remain here with us. We will send a Kolarii warrior with you as a guide—"

  "I'm sure that won't be necessary," Quasar said.

  "I am sure it is. We cannot allow all three of you to leave on your merry way. What is to keep you from going back on your word and never returning to us?"

  Quasar shrugged. "Fair enough. But I won't need a guide." He could travel back and forth between the human colony and the Kolarii settlement multiple times in the days it would take one of the Kolarii to reach the Zeta 6 colony. "I will be fine on my own."

  Hank and Gruber cast each other a very concerned glance.

  By the time Captain Quasar reached the colony compound, he was nearly shot on sight by the sentinel on duty. Apparently, the colony had been having trouble lately with a so-called wilderness wizard, a self-proclaimed prophet of doom and gloom who had adopted the Kolarii ways, customs, and dress, and who returned every now and then to heckle the human colonists while keeping out of range of their plasma rifles. The governor had no patience for such foolishness.

  "Sorry about that, Captain." The young sentinel sheepishly ushered Quasar inside the compound and locked the formidable gate behind him, rifle slung over his scrawny shoulder. "Can't be too careful."

  "No harm done." Quasar may have presumed that he would arrive on the scene like a heroic Lawrence of Arabia after crossing a sea of sandy dunes, but such had not been the case. Thanks to his sore groin muscles, his bow-legged gait had been nearly as slow as a Kolarii's, and due to his neglecting to bring water for the journey, he'd arrived at the colony parched, hallucinating, and talking back to the voices in his head. "I'm sure I resembled a crazy hermit out there. Not my intention, mind you. But—what's that you say?"

  The sentinel hadn't said anything.

  "Oh yes, best-laid plans indeed! You're absolutely right." Quasar nodded to himself.

  "Uh—wait here, sir. I'll go get you some hydro ... and an appropriate uniform."

  "No need!" Quasar tugged off the dusty Kolarii cloak and flung it aside, revealing his sweat-drenched burgundy-and-black Space Command uniform underneath. "That's right. Thank you. I am fit for duty!" He swayed on his feet and caught himself against the solid plasticon wall of the compound. He frowned, shaking his head sharply. "Yes, hydro would be great. On the double, if you don't mind."

  Governor Steele brought the topped-off canteen himself, meeting Quasar inside the gate where the sentinel resumed his post, rifle at the ready.

  "Sweet nectar of the desert," Quasar murmured happily, smacking his lips after downing half the canteen's contents.

  "Might want to take it slow, Captain." Steele was a rigid military man, more of a commandant than a politician. But it took unyielding men and women to colonize an alien moon successfully. "I see you've returned empty-handed. And you've lost your men. Do all of your missions end this badly?"

  Quasar opened his mouth to respond, but he couldn't think of a suitable thing to say. So he poured more of the hydro down his throat instead, finishing the canteen and tossing it back at the governor. Steele caught it in one hand.

  "I was told you were the man for the job, Captain. That you had experience with alien races—even going so far as to have one on your crew. A Carpethrian, is it?" His lip curled back with subconscious distaste.

  "Are you sterile?" Quasar asked.

  "I beg your pardon."

  "Your colony—the humans here. Have they been able to reproduce?"

  "You've been out in the suns too long, Captain. Perhaps you have forgotten why you went into that desert in the first place."

  "I was told they might not be your children."

  "Who told you that? Those lizard-people?"

  "Turtles."

  Steele stared hard at Quasar. "How's that?"

  "They move so slow, I think turtle-people might be more accurate. Or their given name: the Kolarii."

  "Don't tell me you've gone native."

  "I only dressed the part. Although that soldier there—" Quasar gestured at the forward-facing sentinel. "—was prepared to shoot me on sight. Your colony is having trouble with a defector, I take it?"

  "Nothing we can't handle. Your assistance was requested regarding a delicate matter—and that matter alone. You were not invited here to criticize how my people conduct their affairs."

  "Understood." Quasar nodded once. "Back to the kids. They're yours?"

  Steele scowled. "Not all of them. My son is among them, yes."

  "And he's human? One hundred percent?"

  "What are you getting at, Captain?"

  "Could he beat me in a footrace on a good day?" Not today, obviously. Quasar would need to ice his groin muscles as soon as he returned to his quarters aboard the Effervescent Magnitude. "Because if what the Kolarii say is true—"

  "Whose side are you on?"

  "I would like to speak with your colony physician." If anyone had a record of the fertility rate, it would have to be the local doctor.

  "Open the gate, soldier," Steele said. "We're done here."

  Without a word, the sentinel moved to obey.

  "I have a few more questions for you, Governor," Quasar said.

  "You'll have to ask Dr. Wolfson. You'll find him out there somewhere." Steele waved vaguely at the desolate moonscape in the distance. "A raving lunatic, last time I checked. He left us over a week ago, and he won't be welcomed back. Neither will you, Captain. I will notify United World Space Command that your mission was a failure, and I doubt you or your fancy ship will ever return to this sector. Assuming the desert doesn't kill you."

  Qua
sar set his jaw as he retrieved the Kolarii cloak he'd tossed to ground earlier. "Don't count me out yet, sir."

  Once Captain Quasar was a kilometer away from the compound and its stuffy governor, he activated the comm link in his collar with an awkward head jerk.

  "Captain, is everything all right down there?" Commander Wan, his first officer, sounded concerned. As a rule, she tended toward a more stoic disposition. "Scans indicate you have been on your own for the past twelve hours."

  "I'm fine, Number Wan. Tell me how Hank and Gruber fare with the Kolarii. Still alive, I trust?"

  "They are being treated to a tribal display of some sort. It could be a dance. But they are moving very slowly."

  That sounded about right. "I need you to scan my vicinity for any other humanoid life signs. A prophet of doom and gloom, in particular."

  "Sir?"

  "A hermit living outside the colony."

  "Understood." She paused. "Yes, there is a human life sign outside of the compound—"

  "Not mine, correct?"

  "Not yours, sir. It's moving in your direction."

  "You don't say." Quasar peered into the distance under the shade of his cloak's hood. "Thanks, Commander. I'll be in touch."

  "We will remain in orbit as long as necessary, ready to extract you as soon as you give the word."

  Quasar jerked his head to end the transmission and held up a hand in greeting as the cloaked figure appeared over a suns-baked dusty rise, fifty meters away. Not a Kolarii, judging by the person's fast-paced gait, and not a man suffering from sprained groin muscles.