Galactic Blues - Episode 2: Call It Stormy Monday: A Newton's Gate serial (Galactic Blues Season 1) Read online

  Galactic Blues

  Episode 2:

  Call It Stormy Monday

  A Newton’s Gate serial

  by

  C.J. Clemens

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  What Is the NGU?

  Galactic Blues Serial

  Release Schedule

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Follow Us

  NGU Releases

  Acknowledgments

  Character Art

  Copyright © 2018

  C.J. Clemens

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the authors.

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the authors’ imaginations and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, businesses, and individuals, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  For more information, visit the authors’ website: NewtonsGate.com

  For Andy and Chris...

  two brothers who have given us unwavering support.

  What Is the NGU?

  First, you might ask... who is C.J. Clemens?

  C.J. Clemens is the pen name shared by over thirty authors who have written and continue to write an assortment of stories based within the Newton’s Gate Universe.

  And what is the Newton’s Gate Universe?

  On New Year’s Eve of 2050, humanity launches Newton’s Gate, a gateway meant to enable interstellar exploration. But when the gateway explodes, our greatest achievement morphs into our greatest disaster. Portals begin to appear around the world. Some open and close briefly, others swallow entire cities, while some remain permanently active, linking Earth to a wide array of planets, galaxies, universes, dimensions, and alternate times. Earth has become Grand Central Station for all of existence, bringing humanity into contact with alien humanoids, fantastical creatures, and everything in between.

  One consequence is certain: chaos reigns everywhere.

  The NGU features a variety of series, ranging from space opera to urban fantasy—epic fantasy to steampunk—thrillers to military sci-fi. Virtually something for everyone!

  Galactic Blues Serial

  Why a serial?

  The authors of Galactic Blues envisioned the series as a limited-run television show, with weekly episodes being released on nine consecutive Mondays, starting on November 5, 2018.

  Will we release box sets?

  Although we will eventually release each season (nine episodes) in a combined format, we originally conceived Galactic Blues as a weekly form of entertainment that would enable readers to escape into our world for a short time.

  Will there be additional seasons?

  Yes. We are currently planning a three-season run. Of course, if you can’t get enough of our characters and stories, we will happily keep the “show” flying for a while longer.

  How is Galactic Blues connected to the NGU?

  The renegade space pirates at the heart of the series—Remy, Dreyla, and Tosh—begin their misadventures within the portal-filled solar system that has birthed Newton’s Gate. But as they soon discover, some portals have a mind of their own.

  Release Schedule

  Galactic Blues releases:

  11/05/18 Episode 1 – Born Under a Bad Sign

  11/12/18 Episode 2 – Call It Stormy Monday

  11/19/18 Episode 3 – Mean Old World

  11/26/18 Episode 4 – That’s All Right

  12/03/18 Episode 5 – Got My Mojo Working

  12/10/18 Episode 6 – I’m Your Hoochie Coochie Man

  12/17/18 Episode 7 – Knock on Wood

  12/24/18 Episode 8 – Ain’t Nobody’s Business

  12/31/18 Episode 9 – The Sky Is Crying

  Chapter 1

  REMY

  Captain Remy Bechet stared down at the comms he’d just cut off, knowing his performance would only buy him, Dreyla, and Tosh a little time. He glanced at the screen displaying the three ships closing in on them—the command blade and the two smaller pirate ships—and finally, he looked up into the eyes of his last two crew members. He needed to do what he always did: get them out of their current mess. Preferably alive.

  “The both of you—get that power coupling reconnected. Fast,” Remy shouted. “My acting skills suck,” he added under his breath. He’d used the coughing, stuttering comm trick so often in his pirate career, he probably should’ve gotten better at it.

  “What the hell do I know about power couplings?” Tosh said, scratching his head.

  “Come on.” Dreyla marched Tosh off the bridge, tugging him along by the sleeve of his tunic.

  Remy switched the comms setting to a different frequency, one he hoped the pursuing pirate ships would be monitoring. It was one thing for the United Nations Space Force to send one of its command blades after him, but for two of his own kind to have sided with the government… well, that was just disloyal. Of course, they were all pirates, and loyalty wasn’t one of their most prominent virtues. Still, he wanted to see their faces.

  The monitor flickered back on, and he found himself staring at Jason Pike, the captain of the Mearle.

  “Really, Jason?” he addressed the redheaded, mid-forties man, who was sporting a long beard—a new addition. “Now you’re working with that bitch?”

  The ginger beard rose a fraction with the disingenuous smile. “Sorry, Remy, you know how it goes.”

  “Larker’s an idiot if he ever thought I was angling for his position.”

  “I told him that. But too many crews were starting to question his orders, turn down his jobs.” Jason eyed him. “Mostly because of your influence.”

  “I never told anyone to follow me. I just don’t take kindly to having Feds on my ass.”

  The UNSF had doubled its presence in the Belt six months ago. Remy had taken care to pull jobs that were less likely to ruffle any feathers, and thus keep flying longer.

  He glanced at his external view display, where the command blade still hovered menacingly nearby. He obviously hadn’t been low-profile enough.

  “Yeah, well, Larker didn’t see it that way.” Jason’s gaze lowered. “Sorry, man.”

  “Out of idle curiosity, how large is that bounty on me?”

  The other pirate captain sighed. “A quarter billion.”

  “Hard to turn down that kinda money.”

  Jason didn’t answer. Just preened his beard.

  A quarter billion credits, even split between three crews, was a shit-ton of money. Enough maybe for a pirate to retire on. Hell, he could see why Jason had sold him out. It didn’t make the guy any less of a bastard, though.

  “Well, Jason the Red, it was good while it lasted,” Remy said with a curl of his lip.

  Jason leaned closer to the camera. “Remy, if you want any of your crew to live through this, just do what she says, okay? Larker told her he wanted the ship and crew.”

  Remy cocked an eyebrow. “But me…?”

  “Yeah, uh, how she disposed of you was her choice.”

  “Well, I don’t reckon she’s planning on pampering me
to death.”

  The pirate king Larker Max had played his hand well. He’d unleashed his UNSF attack bitch on the R.L. Johnson, confident her hatred for Remy would know no bounds. Her command blade, supported by two formidable pirate crews, would make it tough for even a skilled captain like Remy to escape the confrontation alive and unscathed.

  Jason’s shoulders tensed and his eyes darted nervously to the left. “Crap, she’s hailing me now… so, I… Remy, I… gotta go.”

  “Do what you gotta do,” Remy snapped, and then cut the link.

  Do what you gotta do. Fitting words. Jason the Red would always do what he felt he had to. The two of them were pretty similar, cut from the same tough pirate cloth. But how would Remy himself have acted if the tables were turned and it was Jason’s head bearing such a massive bounty? Remy knew the answer: he wouldn’t betray a friend for the sake of money, unless his own crew were at risk.

  He hit the shipboard comms again. “Any update on when we might have power?” he asked, all nice and polite.

  “I need a couple of minutes,” came Dreyla’s voice, ragged at the edges.

  Poor girl was feeling the strain. But minutes were getting just about as scarce as loyalty in this cursed universe.

  Chapter 2

  DREYLA

  “Damn. Seriously?” Dreyla said, her voice muffled in the tight, dark compartment behind the engine control panel.

  It was suffocating in here, smelling of burnt rubber and hot as all hell. With so many wires running in and out of the system, she was having a tough time identifying the ones she needed.

  Tosh’s footsteps padded across the engine room. He stopped somewhere nearby. “What’s wrong?”

  She poked her head out so she could see him. Gulping a few breaths of cooler air, she wiped sweat from her hairline with her sleeve. “Abrams really did a number on this. Look, all the leads are ripped off.” She held up a flexible, three-inch-wide tube containing over a dozen wires. “And it’s difficult to tell what lines were spliced in where.”

  Tosh’s watery blue eyes widened as if he understood the damage, but then he shook his head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but something tells me it’s not good.”

  “Nope, it’s not good.” She picked through the wires, straightening them. “Remy needs this working an hour ago. These all need to be reconnected to power the converters. No connection, no reaction from the Teez… no power from the dark matter generator.”

  Don’t panic. You can do this.

  She glanced at the old man to ensure he was okay, and still lucid. Of course, that judgment call wasn’t easy to make, since Tosh’s face was awash with its default, stoned expression. Even in the middle of performing complex surgeries, such as reattaching an arm to one of the crew… he always wore the same dazed look. But damn, he was a good doctor. Tosh had mad skills; he just had a propensity for various addictions and a disregard for any local laws that might attempt to curtail his habit. Alcohol and narcotics were his vices. But what of it? People had much worse faults than that.

  “What?” Tosh’s eyes narrowed inquisitively, making him seem less vague.

  She’d been staring at him. Zoning out. She shook her head to clear it. “Nothing… I need you to run to the cargo bay and get the hand torch Abrams kept in his green toolbox. By the supply room door. I need it to reattach these.”

  “Hand torch? Got it.” Tosh trotted out of the engine room, as if happy to be useful for something.

  She finished straightening the wires, separating the red, blue, and yellow so she could easily melt them to their correct plates when she got the torch. She crawled back behind the panel where the air seemed hotter than before. Sweat ran down her face in rivulets now.

  Just as she’d fastened the wires in place with little metal pins, Tosh’s head poked around the corner.

  She jumped, banging her head on the ceiling of the compartment. “Whoa, nearly gave me a heart attack.”

  “That’s okay, I’m a doctor.” Tosh grinned down at her.

  While the old man was perhaps the nicest person she’d ever met, he still had a scary face, even when he smiled—or especially when he smiled. The deep lines of age, the sunken leathery cheeks, and the wiry eyebrows conspired to make him seem forbidding. It didn’t help that he was now flushed from his sprint to and from the cargo bay.

  She grabbed the torch from him. He cradled one of the TZ107 chips in his other hand. That single Teez chip could’ve powered the Jay for six months, and there were currently fifty thousand of the infernal things in the cargo bay. They’d stolen them on a job for Larker Max, the same pirate king now trying, via his ruthless minions, to double-cross them.

  “Too bad we can’t send a package of these over to those ships and blow the hell out of them,” Tosh remarked with a rueful smile.

  She nodded impatiently and turned her focus to the job. But a few seconds later, she stopped mid-weld and stared at him. She reached out and grabbed his forearm with her free hand, clutching tight.

  “What?” the old man asked, his eyebrows at full tilt.

  “You’re brilliant!” Dreyla said, laughing.

  “Well, if you say so,” Tosh said. “But… maybe remind me why?”

  Instead of answering him, Dreyla tapped her comms. “Captain,” she blurted. “Don’t tell them that Joss and Abrams are dead. Tell them you’re in the middle of a mutiny… that should give you more time.”

  “What are you talking about?” Remy’s voice was curt, his tone suspicious.

  “Also, don’t try to bring the power back online.”

  “But—”

  “Trust me, we’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  “But, Drey—”

  “Please, Captain!”

  She switched off the comms and met Tosh’s startled gaze. No time to explain further—to either of them. Remy would give her an earful for that later, but he just had to trust her. Or else they’d all be in even deeper shit.

  Dreyla finished welding a red wire to its plate. She tested it with her voltmeter to make sure the lines were connected, but she didn’t bring the main power back online. Not yet.

  Tosh looked at her quizzically, tapping his fingers against his whiskery cheek. “Did I miss something? I’m quite sure I must’ve. At my age, I do find it hard to keep up sometimes.”

  “We need to do a little more surgery, Doc.” She took his arm and guided him back toward the cargo bay.

  This was gonna be gross.

  Chapter 3

  LILLY

  Instead of taking one of the patrol vehicles, Lilly set off on foot to the Red Lady. She needed some air. Despite the aridness of the planet and the mixed bag of odors in the overcrowded city, it was still better than being cooped up in her office, breathing in the processed air of the sheriff’s station.

  She worked her way down the crowded sidewalk. Trapped in her thoughts. Taking little notice of those around her. The encounter with Yercer had left her feeling queasy.

  He was getting on her nerves, complaining about the view from his cell, demanding special meals due to his “dietary requirements,” and ruthlessly teasing the weakest link in the chain of command: Deputy Brand. Luckily, Davis was in protective mode around his new colleague, fighting back whenever Yercer got too nasty. Otherwise, Lilly couldn’t have left the station at all.

  The six-story facade of the Red Lady cast a long, cooling shadow across her path. It was around this time of day when she and Tim had first arrived in Naillik—when the shadows slanted nearly horizontally and bathed everything in pinkish orange. Romantic colors, for people who were that way inclined. She and Tim weren’t.

  Tim had been all fired up about his new job. He’d gotten hired by the main council from the planet Naillik, the home world of humans and the town’s namesake. In those days, she and her husband felt they’d discovered the secret to happiness: a decent job on a planet boasting an enormous mining boom. Yep, they’d been pretty young and stupid.

  Two years in, th
ey were more realistic. Money was tight, and the town was showing its ugly side, but they still had ambitions. When Tim came home from work one day and convinced her to buy a stake in the Red Lady, she’d had her doubts. But the saloon, hotel, and brothel combination had ultimately been a solid investment. Plus, they could take up residence there, which was at least better than the three-hundred-square-foot apartment the council had provided.

  She ran her fingers along the porous wall. The faded red had once been lavish—something Tim had reinstated once they bought their third share in the business. The previous owner had failed to maintain key aspects of the building, and now, without Tim’s work ethic, she was being equally slack in keeping the place looking respectable. She could easily imagine his disapproving voice: “Look at the state of the wall. It’s just laziness, Lilly, that’s what it is. Civilization starts with keeping things looking like someone cares.”

  Well, she had to choose her battles.

  She stepped through the main entrance into the relative gloom of the lobby. A heady, spicy aroma hit her nostrils, clearing her sinuses of any lingering odors from the streets of Naillik.

  Billings, one of her business partners, lounged behind the counter at the center of the room, talking into his headset. He was the one who’d convinced Tim to invest. In all likelihood, he’d hoped that partnering with the sheriff would keep out the riffraff and prevent having to pay off the law for any violations the establishment might incur. After all, Tim was the law.

  Smart move.

  Billings was middle-aged and in reasonable shape. Any bodily imperfections he might have had were camouflaged by a crisp, dark suit. Lilly had never seen him in anything else.