The Creation of Xyphus: Book One: Acts 1-3
The first three chapters of book one of the Xyphus saga. The first novel I've finished.
Author’s Note
This book is finished and can be purchased for $4.99 in digital form on Gumroad where all of my products are currently 25% off if you use the promo code: PRIMETIME. A sci-fi saga that explains the back history of a setting in my WIP TTRPG.
Act I
There were a lot of reasons why Brandon hated life. Being in the brig for the second time wasn't one of them. It was the fact that he was on Luna that annoyed him the most. If he were on Terra, he could at least get conjugal visits from his girlfriend. Here, he didn't really know anyone.
It had been three long months, and he sighed as he stared out at the barren lunar landscape. On Luna, that was about three days, and the window soon tinted as the ultraviolet lights turned off to simulate a day on Terra in order for you to maintain your biological clock.
This caused him to sigh again and he turned to glance at the bed, thinking long and hard about laying down early. He turned back to the window one last time, and that was when he saw the bright flash of light illuminate the lunar surface like daylight for a few seconds. Only, it was daylight.
Brandon furrowed his brow, having never seen such a phenomenon. He waited for a few moments, praying for the outcome he was expecting. Alas, there were no tremors. Nor was there a sheering wave of radical protons to vaporize his existence. Not that he wanted to die, but he had learned to accept its arrival when he joined the United Space Force.
That was when the buzzing alarm went off signaling that guards were coming to enter the cell. This alarm meant that you had five seconds to assume a position on your knees with your hands locked behind your head. He managed to get into the position despite being slightly startled by the alarm.
He wasn't expecting anyone to be coming by since dinner had already been served, and visiting hours were over as well. He watched the semi-transparent, six-inch-thick plastanium door slide open.
[Plastanium - A hard plastic and titanium alloy used in the construction of starships and other extra-terrestrial structures.]
Two large guards in fully armored spacesuits entered the cell and separated to either side of the door.
Brandon then saw a very short Azian commodore.
[Azian - This setting is just like Earth, only the names have been changed, and it's further in the future. This one is the same as Asian. The reason for this is due to the fact that it's part of a tabletop role-playing game I'm designing. This saga explains how the setting comes to be as it is when you would play the game.]
She had a very smug and satisfied look on her face as she strolled into the cell. She stared Brandon in the eyes, stopping just a few feet from him. "Leave us," she ordered the guards without breaking eye contact, then smiled largely as they left the room. She waited until the door closed before saying, "At ease."
Brandon was anxious to get off of his bad knee. He had been the first athlete to be a professional quarterback and pitcher. He had been even more famous for the fact that he pitched with his left hand and would throw the football with his right. In just his third season as a quarterback for the Amerigonian Revolutionaries, he was sacked by two players at the same time, and this forced his right knee to bend completely backwards. Twenty-second century medicine did everything it could, but his knee had never really been the same since. He tried pitching for one more year after he recovered, but since it was his planting foot, he couldn't throw the ball as fast as before. He had had to get a waiver just to join the Astroforce.
[Astroforce - After the unification of the planet, the navies and air forces of the world joined together. Along with the Army Corps—a conglomeration of the armies and marine corps of the world—this makes up the United Space Force.]
"Lieutenant Commander (LCOM) Brandon Xyphus. It is an honor to meet you."
Brandon had just sat down on his bed, and having just heard the best joke he's heard in a long time, he busted out laughing, falling over onto the bed as he did so.
She waited for him to simmer down. "I am Commodore (CMDR) Jiao Xiang, commanding officer of the U.C.S. Laigon."
Brandon finished his laughter as he sat back up. "Now, let me stop you right there. First of all, it's Lieutenant Major (LMAJ) now. You see, they demoted me, and so, your 'honor'," he said mimicking her Xhinese accent, "doesn't really mean much to me right now. I'm sort of stuck... in the brig." His tone was very sarcastic and facetious.
She gave a short chuckle, "I was warned about your insubordinate behavior. I normally don't take insults to my honor lightly, but I am in great debt to you. Your heroics at the Xeres Incident saved my brother's and many others' lives. I understand you pulled off a Hollander Maneuver, which is theoretically impossible."
"If it's impossible, then how did I pull it off?" he asked with a wry smile.
"Possible or not, your ability to navigate through the asteroid belt with a ship that wasn't operating at full mark is the reason I'm here."
"I'm certainly flattered that you admire my skills, but one of the people I didn't save is part of the reason why I'm here."
"Maybe if you weren't so insubordinate, you wouldn't be in this predicament."
Brandon rose to his feet as he said, "I wouldn't even be here if I had had any other judge. My luck determined it would be Judge Reynolds! You know, the one whose wife died commanding that ship!" His outcry was fierce and in her face, but she did not flinch or back away.
Her smirk was unexpected and Brandon frustratingly thrust his view back out the tinted window as she replied, "I'm well aware of your circumstances, which is the other reason why I'm here."
He turned his head back toward her with an incredulous look on his face, "What, you're going to give me a second chance? You must be a hologram here to get my hopes up, then just disappear. I'm not falling for that one."
"Have you always been such a pessimist?"
He gave a short, but hearty laugh before replying, "The way my life's been going, I certainly could be. Probably should be." He raised his eyebrows as he turned his attention back out the window. "No," he began with a sigh, "despite all that, I'm still a pragmatist. What you're suggesting does not fit the current trending pattern fucking up my life."
"Well, the glass is half full this time. I am giving you another chance, but you have to fill the rest of the glass, if you catch my drift."
Brandon gave a snort. He was impressed with her pun, but he didn't want to show it. To him, this all felt a bit too easy. He turned to look at her with another incredulous expression, "So, the next time that door opens, you and I are just going to waltz right out of here?"
"I am not familiar with that archaic dance, but if you are ready, there is a shuttle waiting to take you to Space Force Academy where you will go through the Zpartan Refit Course."
"I hope you didn't have to suck an admiral's dick to make this happen, 'cause I ain't worth it."
The commodore laughed, although it felt fake. "If I told you how I pulled this off, I'd have to kill you."
He had noticed the black Zpartacus pin on her collar, opposite of the two gold anchors with wings signifying her Astroforce rank of commodore. This meant she worked for the Zpartans—a semi-secret agency that works on top secret missions. He was excited at this opportunity, but again, his reserved nature didn't allow him to express it. "What do the Zpartans want with me anyways?"
Her expression saddened and she looked down before saying, "Due to an unfortunate freak accident, we recently lost our pilot. Due to another freak occurrence, I need a new helmsman soon. You are the best qualified pilot in ten sectors."
"Does that freak occurrence have anything to do with that bright flash of light that I saw?" he asked, turning his attention back to the window.
"Dega went supernova."
Brandon whipped his head back to her, his eyes wide, but brow furrowed. "How are we not dead right now?"
"From what I understand, no one is entirely sure how. What we do know, is that our sun is now headed straight for an asteroid nearly twice the size of Luna. We have been tasked with destroying that asteroid by any means necessary."
Brandon immediately swallowed his pride and stood at attention, "LMAJ Brandon Xyphus reporting for duty, ma'am."
"Very good. I expect to see you on the Laigon in two weeks." She then turned and left.
A lot of emotions began to flow through Brandon as he finally relaxed his posture. He was anxious to pilot a ship again, but for the first time since his football injury, he was afraid of what the future might hold.
Act II
It had been nearly eight years since Brandon had set foot on Space Force Alpha. The near-Connecticut-sized space station was an incredible feat of engineering. Its only drawback being, it has to be towed into a stable orbit every six months. Other than that, it is completely self-sufficient, and it is the First Extra-Terrestrial Wonder, often being referred to as, Luna Jr. It was the first joint effort of the United Coalitions of Terra. A massive undertaking costing nearly 200 quadrillion dollars. It went through many delays, but in the end, it was responsible for saving the fragile unification in its early years, and has been the backbone of all space-faring endeavors since.
Brandon stared at his uniform he had laid out on the bed. He traced the line of gold trim starting from the center of the collar and followed its wavy line down to the left waist of the shirt. A gold trim means it's an officer's uniform. This line divided the shirt between navy blue on its right and slate grey on its left; the colors of the Astroforce.
He grabbed a sleeve and admired the nanoweave technology, rubbing the strange fabric with his thumb. The entire uniform consisted of a baseball style hat, shirt, gloves, pants, and boots. If all else fails, you can pull the collar up over your head and the nanites will create a transparent barrier and seal all gaps, becoming a temporary spacesuit with about an hour of oxygen. It had saved his life once before.
He forced himself not to reminisce and turned his attention to the three small gold bars on his collar. He had to remove one now. This forced a heavy sigh out of him. The Xeres Incident had earned him the rank of Lieutenant Commander much earlier than normal. Despite all that happened then, and has happened as a result, he was still proud of that achievement. He had had a few things sting his pride over the years, but this one was setting a much higher bar than any other.
He didn't like this feeling, but he wasn't about to dwell on it and let it ruin his motivation. The Zpartan Refit Course was one of the toughest courses. It has killed three people, and has nearly killed many more. Regardless of the fact that he felt like he was in the best shape of his life, it still gave him a twinge of nervousness. Not something he experiences often.
After donning his uniform, he looked at himself in the mirror which also doubles as a display. He noted the time at the top right. 1138 hours!?
He quickly put his hat on as he dashed out of the single-roomed domicile. He blindly turned right just as he exited, only to run into someone.
This someone turned out to be a smaller and much more frail man than Brandon, sending him to the floor. Brandon hardly felt the collision, and stared wide-eyed and apologetically at the older gentleman laid out on the floor. The man had greying hair that was almost white and a bit unkempt. He was wearing a lab coat, only it wasn't of a type that Brandon had ever seen. It looked old, and not so white anymore.
He reached a hand out as he saw the man's glasses on the floor. "I'm incredibly sorry, sir. Are you okay?" After helping him to his feet, he bent down to grab the man's glasses.
The older gentleman wiggled his nose a bit before answering, "Everything appears to be in order... except that my glasses are missing." the old man stated, squinting his eyes at Brandon.
Brandon inspected the glasses but didn't find a Glassware serial number.
[Specware - Glasses are a thing of the past, except for the occasional pair for fashion, or that it's Specware, which is a type of portable computer.]
Not to mention, he had never seen that particular style. The frames were wiry thin and seemed delicate. He also noted the magnifying effect of the lenses, which obviously was required by its wearer to see. "Here they are, sir." he said, handing them to the old man.
"Ah, yes, thank you." the old man replied, quickly putting on the glasses. He then suddenly looked as though he had seen a ghost. His ice blue eyes flashed discernment as he focused on Brandon's collar. Then the old man's slightly wrinkled face relaxed, and he smirked, but with a furled brow, "Huh... of all the runs." He paused for a moment, putting a hand to his chin, his face showing wonderment. Brandon caught a glimpse of his Labor Force uniform collar, and the five full pips on it.
[Labor Force - A civilian branch of the Space Force for civilians that do work off of Terra, and five full pips means you are of the highest rank: Master.]
The old man's face went back to that of discernment and his eyes trailed off, "I'm going to have to redo my calculations."
"If you'll excuse me, sir." Brandon pleaded, and he went to walk past him.
The old man grabbed his arm, and waited for Brandon to make eye contact. "When you find her, don't let her go."
The man's grip was surprisingly strong, and his gaze just as intense. Brandon was flustered at the suddenness of it, and the information didn't make any sense. He went to speak, but wasn't sure how exactly to respond.
The old man suddenly let go of Brandon, and pushed his sleeve up on his left arm to look at something that was on his wrist. Brandon didn't get a good look at it before the old man took off, running down the hall, and as he ran off, he shouted, "Just remember... everything happens for a reason!"
Brandon furled his brow heavily as he watched the man run away faster than expected. He remembered, then, that he was near being late as well. He swiped his hand from his right wrist up toward his elbow. Another feature of the uniform is a display that can show up on either forearm. It will link up with any nearby database with which it's allowed access. He noted the time: 1138 TZT.
[TZT – An acronym for Terran Zulu Time, or the current time of the prime meridian time zone.]
"What the f—" He knew there had to have been more time to have elapsed over those moments. He slightly shook his head as he began making his way to the course.
Along the way, he realized what was on the man's wrist. It was a wristwatch. Something he hadn't seen since before his father died. One of his father's most prized possessions that used to sit on the sofa table in a completely transparent plastanium case. It was a genuine Bolex, circa 1945. His father had claimed it was taken from Adof Zitler's dead body, and had been passed down the family line since. No one wore it since the leather straps were heavily aged and worn, although the timepiece still worked.
He recalled a scene where his father opened the case and let him wind it up. He could remember liking the gold numbers and dials, and how he was amazed at its inner workings; something his father had shown him once before. This was one of the most clear memories he had of his father, as he had died when Brandon was just ten years old.
He had reached the autobus platform and stopped before stepping onto it, which would cause it to stop at this station. Strangely, there was no one around at that moment. He half-expected to feel the twinge of nervousness return, but something nudged him onto the platform. Maybe it was nostalgia. He wasn't sure, but now everything was set in motion, and just like that, the autobus arrived. He took a deep breath before he entered. There was no turning back now, he thought. He was more ready than ever this time. He had never expected to get another chance, and this time, he vowed to make it count.
Act III
The sun had just broken the horizon of Terra according to the view from Space Force Alpha. It was morning in Tam City, the capital of New Azlantica.
[New Azlantica - Despite the efforts of the Climate Accords of the 21st century, Terra later entered a bitter ice age. It lasted nearly forty years, creating a new island continent in the Azlantic Ocean.]
Brandon finished drying his short, sandy-blonde hair as he watched the sun brighten his birthplace. He caught a glint from atop the Capitol Tower, the 2,500 feet tall arcology in the center of the terraport.
[Terraport - A city that has a spaceport engaged in civilian matters.]
Tam City was one of the first cities built as one of the Cities of the Future Project in the late 21st century. It was finished in 2099 and was built to be self-sufficient, and to be able to withstand the forces of nature, specifically hurricanes. With its state-of-the-art spaceport, it soon became the center of trade on Terra, and later became the capital of the United Coalitions of Terra in 2117. Brandon had been born just ten years later, being a part of the first generation to witness Terra's first gigalopolis, or city with a population of one billion or more people.
He struggled not to rehash the memories that were partially the cause for him to join the military so he could get away from it all. After losing his father early on, his mother sort of fell apart, and slowly degraded into a shell of her former self. This had put a lot of weight onto Brandon's shoulders earlier than his maturity was ready for, and this had put him into a lot of rough situations growing up.
To further his misery, he has had to deal with the guilt of not visiting his mother in over five years, and has been torn over the idea of visiting home for quite some time. He let out a long sighing breath through his nose resting the towel around his neck and holding on to each end. Considering the danger of the mission, and its apocalyptic result if they were to fail, this only made him want to visit that much more, though, he would have to be satisfied with sending a message since he wouldn't have time to visit.
As though he had somehow psychically predicted it, a message tone began playing from the mirror. Brandon double-tapped the window and it turned into a display showing the message alert. He couldn't believe his eyes. It was Allison, his ex-fiancée. The mother of their son. He thought long and hard about just swiping his hand to the left, which would ignore the alert, but in a flash of impetuousness, he swiped to the right. "Better get this over with."
The screen flashed, and an image of a young female petty officer appeared. "LMAJ Xyphus, a message." Her face and tone were both emotionless.
Brandon hesitated for a moment, raising an eyebrow at the lameness of her effort not bothering to tell him any more information. "I'll accept."
The young woman's face disappeared and was replaced with the logo for Jillette brand lazors. A male announcer's voice came next, "This q-space message is sponsored by Jillette. Be sure to stay tuned after the message for a special word from our sponsor."
[Q-space - Short for quantum space. An ill-named sub-layer of space itself. This sub-layer allows information to travel at speeds faster than the speed of light. Waves can travel at hundreds of times that speed.]
A jingle played next, "Jillette, the best in lazor tech." There was a few second delay as the logo remained on screen, and a few links showed up on the screen for other options, such as buying their products.
Then her face appeared. Her not-quite-resting-bitch-face hadn't changed over the last three years. The tone in her brown eyes matched her expression. He could tell she wasn't happy to see him, but she looked more beautiful than ever. He couldn't help but stare at her long, brunette curls. When she spoke up, he was startled out of his reminiscing trance.
"When were you going to tell me you had gotten out of jail?"
Brandon sighed as he looked her in the eyes, "You keeping tabs on me now?"
She scoffed, and he could tell she folded her arms even though he could only see her face. "My son and I are still your beneficiaries. Or did you forget that they notify me when you go on a mission? Who the fuck is letting you fly another ship?"
Claiming their son as only hers was a low blow, but par for the course for her. Except, this time it felt like a kidney punch on top of a kick in the balls. "You mean our son, and... well... I guess it slipped my mind this time. How is Small Fry?"
She forced a tight smile, "He's good. He's ahead of the curve in his education, and he's captain of his junior league football team."
"Are you still getting the money each month?"
Her face flared frustration, and she put a hand to her forehead letting her eyes lower, "How the fuck did you get out of the brig?"
"I—," he began to say but then he sighed heavily, creasing his brow a little. "I can't mention any of the details, but it's an important mission. We would be called heroes if it wasn't an Echelon Prime level mission. In fact, I may not return, and if I do, I promise it won't be to the brig again." Even though it sounded like it, he wasn't trying to win her back; just her trust.
"Well, I promise I won't hold my breath."
Her tone continued to cut him deep, but he didn't expect anything less at that point. He knew he had put them through a lot of turmoil. Neither of them deserved it, and he was doing everything he could to make up for it. It killed him to not be a part of his son's life, but he was happy that he was doing well. "I thought you weren't talking to me anymore."
"I'm just making sure that you're not going to just show up at our door unannounced." The single crease between her eyes had deepened.
Brandon continued to do his best not to show his true feelings at that moment, but his defenses had been worn thin by then and he struggled to keep tears from trying to well up in his eyes. This forced him to blink quite a few times, "You know I would never do that. I only want what's best for you both, and if that means I have to stay away, then I'm staying away, and I have stayed away. I—" he had to pretend to clear his throat to hide the fact that he was getting choked up. "I don't see how this benefits our son, but I'm doing my part, Allison. I know I fucked up. The guilt eats at me every single day, and now you're calling me, to what... rub salt in my wounds? I do enough of that myself, thanks."
She raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips to one side. Her cold eyes could be mistaken for laser cannons. She took a deep, shuddering breath and her eyes softened a little, "To be honest, I don't really know why I called you." Her lips tightened together before she continued, her look took on a bit of frustration, "I jus—... I wish I coul—" her gaze went to the ground before she looked back at him, "I'm sorry." He saw her swipe down and her image was replaced with the Jillette logo.
He went to speak, but exhaled deeply instead, lowering his head a little. His gaze wandered to the scar on the lower right side of his abdomen, just above the towel wrapped around his waist. You could really only see it in the right light, but he knew it was there. It was from when she accidentally stabbed him with a letter opener, only to find out at the hospital that he needed an appendectomy anyways, which is near where she stabbed him. He chuckled at the memory, particularly about the look on her face after they realized what had happened. At the time it was quite painful, but looking back on it, it always brings a smile to his face.
He was interrupted in his thoughts as the logo turned into a full ad for their newest line of lazors. He quickly swiped down to close it out and continued to finish drying himself off.
Today was the day. He wanted to be more excited about the opportunity to fly again, but his pride had been egregiously hurt by the demotion, compounding the hurt just caused to him by Allison. All of it left a bitter taste in the back of his throat.
Even still, he was anxious to take the controls. The Laigon was a state-of-the-art vessel, and according to its marks, it was the fastest ship in the fleet. He couldn't wait to push it to its limits, and he knew they would be going there as fast as possible, too. He had finished drying off and began to put on his undershirt. As soon as he did, a command alert appeared on the mirror. It was from CMDR Xiang, so he quickly swiped his hand to the right and stood at attention.
"My apologies, Lieutenant, did I catch you at a bad time?" she asked with a wry smirk.
"Not at all, Commodore. I was just getting dressed to come board the ship."
"I saw that your marks in the course were exemplary. I am very pleased. I had a feeling you were worthy of being a Zpartan."
"Thank you, ma'am." Just then the screen got distorted and fuzzy, and then came the tremors. They lasted merely ten seconds, but they were strong enough for Brandon to struggle staying on his feet. He could see that CMDR Xiang was having the same trouble. After they were over, he stood back at attention, "What was that, ma'am?"
"Must be the aftershock from the supernova." Her eyes went wide as Brandon's towel fell off of his waist. He could tell she was stifling a giggle, "Get your ass on my bridge, Lieutenant."
"Ma'am, yes, ma'am." he said as his cheeks flushed red. His penis began to harden, knowing that a female was looking at it. He heard her laugh as she swiped her hand down from a salute, ending the call. It took a moment for Brandon to get over the embarrassment, but he hurriedly donned his uniform once he gained his composure, then made his way to the ship.
Thank you so much for reading. Please consider recommending my substack. I hope you imagine having a wonderful day….[[|:-)
Nice world and character-building:) Thank you for posting:)