Dead Beckoning
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"Dead Beckoning" Galaxii Series: Book 3
Two ships. Two crews. One wild adventure!
Meradinis.
'Turtle Island', they called it - 'Turtle Island of the stars'.
The fearsome Corsairs had waged a campaign of terror against the Human colonies for nearly a century, making travel in the outer reaches of the Terran Empire a risky business. For generations, the black-wearing space pirates had built up a mythos that equalled (and some said *exceeded*) that of their ancient Earth predecessors. No-one at the fringes of the Empire was safe - that's why they called it 'the Outblack'. The fact that they'd succeeded - throughout all that time - in keeping the location of their home base a closely guarded secret, had become a major embarrassment for the Terran Space Fleet.
The Terrans knew all along that they operated from somewhere within the Omegan Quadrant - but where? Space is a pretty damn big place after all. And then, one day, quite unexpectedly, thanks to the escapades of an unconventional Space Fleet officer, and a surprisingly co-operative Corsair turncoat, the Corsair's maddening luck finally ran out - and the might of the Terran Space Fleet descended on the Corsairs home world in full force.
When they were done, the blazing wreckage of the once feared Black Fleet drifted in orbit above Meradinis. On the surface, the tables were well and truly turned as the once fearful predator fell at the feet of its former prey.
In the months that followed, the former Corsair world became a Terran protectorate and settled down to a new life of peace instead of plunder. Throughout the Empire, collective sighs of relief cleared the air. After all those years of living in fear, the Corsair's reign of terror was over.
But, just as the Corsair civilization breathed its last - its eyes reopened, like a dying Phoenix waiting on its chance to be reborn... If not on Meradinis, then... somewhere else.
A long way away, on Caries - a colony so new, the terraforming hadn't quite set yet, and the air tasted faintly of sulphur - a man was desperately trying to reinvent himself, a man dressed in black. It was hard to fit in among ordinary people. Even more so as an ordinary person. And so, seemingly, was staying out of trouble. But then, that's what Terrans called 'civilization', isn't it? Anyway, the string of thugs trying to collect the Corsair bounty on his head made that a bit difficult.
Even with an imperial pardon in his pocket, it seemed he still wasn't quite out of the woods - no matter what name he used. The Empire wasn't done with him just yet either. And he'd just started to settle in, too.
Like every soldier who leaves home to go to war, 'Adam' hoped to return to Caries, to the arms of his new love – but Adam wasn’t exactly a soldier, and Marsha… well, Marsha wasn’t exactly standard spec either… but if he did return at all, he hoped to return to her.
Two ships. Two crews. One wild adventure!
Meradinis.
'Turtle Island', they called it - 'Turtle Island of the stars'.
The fearsome Corsairs had waged a campaign of terror against the Human colonies for nearly a century, making travel in the outer reaches of the Terran Empire a risky business. For generations, the black-wearing space pirates had built up a mythos that equalled (and some said *exceeded*) that of their ancient Earth predecessors. No-one at the fringes of the Empire was safe - that's why they called it 'the Outblack'. The fact that they'd succeeded - throughout all that time - in keeping the location of their home base a closely guarded secret, had become a major embarrassment for the Terran Space Fleet.
The Terrans knew all along that they operated from somewhere within the Omegan Quadrant - but where? Space is a pretty damn big place after all. And then, one day, quite unexpectedly, thanks to the escapades of an unconventional Space Fleet officer, and a surprisingly co-operative Corsair turncoat, the Corsair's maddening luck finally ran out - and the might of the Terran Space Fleet descended on the Corsairs home world in full force.
When they were done, the blazing wreckage of the once feared Black Fleet drifted in orbit above Meradinis. On the surface, the tables were well and truly turned as the once fearful predator fell at the feet of its former prey.
In the months that followed, the former Corsair world became a Terran protectorate and settled down to a new life of peace instead of plunder. Throughout the Empire, collective sighs of relief cleared the air. After all those years of living in fear, the Corsair's reign of terror was over.
But, just as the Corsair civilization breathed its last - its eyes reopened, like a dying Phoenix waiting on its chance to be reborn... If not on Meradinis, then... somewhere else.
A long way away, on Caries - a colony so new, the terraforming hadn't quite set yet, and the air tasted faintly of sulphur - a man was desperately trying to reinvent himself, a man dressed in black. It was hard to fit in among ordinary people. Even more so as an ordinary person. And so, seemingly, was staying out of trouble. But then, that's what Terrans called 'civilization', isn't it? Anyway, the string of thugs trying to collect the Corsair bounty on his head made that a bit difficult.
Even with an imperial pardon in his pocket, it seemed he still wasn't quite out of the woods - no matter what name he used. The Empire wasn't done with him just yet either. And he'd just started to settle in, too.
Like every soldier who leaves home to go to war, 'Adam' hoped to return to Caries, to the arms of his new love – but Adam wasn’t exactly a soldier, and Marsha… well, Marsha wasn’t exactly standard spec either… but if he did return at all, he hoped to return to her.
