Ava Read online

  Ava

  Book one of the ‘Secrets of the Ship’ series

  © 2019 Joe Crouch. All rights reserved.

  Chapters

  1 IN TWO HALVES

  2 COLD STEEL

  3 A NEW SOUL

  4 THE FENCER

  5 A DAY IN THE SUN

  6 THE COMPOUND

  7 THE BREAK

  8 TREADING OLD GROUND

  9 RUNNING FROM YOUR PAST

  10 WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE

  11 THE GHOST OF THE FOREST

  12 WAVES OF SAFETY

  13 SUDDEN CHANGES

  14 ON CLOSER INSPECTION

  15 UNDER THE STREETS

  16 THE ARRIVAL

  17 DAWN STAR

  18 SPILLING THE BEANS

  19 HOME SWEET HOME

  20 FAR, FAR AWAY

  21 EVERYBODY WAS…

  22 THE KEY

  23 ASKING FOR DIRECTIONS

  24 HUNTED BY WOLVES

  25 SPLIT IN TWO

  26 GUARDIANS

  27 CLASH OF TITANS

  28 THE POWER OF TWO

  Releases

  Humanity’s Path (Terranus Book One)

  The Awakening (Terranus Book Two)

  Fortitude (Terranus Book Three)

  Ava (Secrets of the Ship Book One)

  Contact Information

  Website: jscrouch.co.uk

  Twitter: @JSCrouchBooks

  Facebook: J. S. Crouch

  Email: [email protected]

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  1

  IN TWO HALVES

  The shadows cast by the towering sandstone walls of the wide crevasse made Feelo shiver.

  A violent wind ripped between the lofty rock faces, tearing the olive scarf away from his face, revealing the misshapen tan of his white skin below. Clawing at the flailing fabric he wrapped it back around his face, tucking it into the tight hood of his body length shawl.

  He stood on Aeos, a world much like the desert tundra Earth had become since the world’s most powerful nations had abandoned her. It was scorching hot. He stopped for a moment and crashing back against the cracked sandstone cliff face he pulled a container of water from his satchel.

  “Damn,” he swirled the container around, listening to the precious little water he had left, “I better get a move on.”

  Aeos wasn’t home to much, no sane person lived there, but it had a functioning community of degenerates and outlaws who called the inhospitable world home. It was also home to Feelo’s latest payday. He had received intel that a freighter crash-landed into a vast uncharted area of undulating dunes and was ripe for the taking.

  And that’s what Feelo and his small crew did, they stole or salvaged as they liked to call it, anything of value. They travelled between worlds on the outskirts of civilised space searching for a payday, sometimes it came to them, sometimes they came to it, but it was almost always dangerous, paid like crap, and strayed into the greyer areas of the law.

  He wasn’t there alone. His pet companion, Meco, a powerful robotic dog, had travelled alongside him as a fearsome yet unpredictable guardian since Feelo’s birth eighteen years ago. But, like most pets, it had a mind of its own.

  “Meco!” Feelo’s voice reverberated off the sheer walls, amplifying the sound. “I know you can hear me you damned dog, come here now or you won’t get oiled later.”

  He continued along the desert path, trusting that Meco would sniff him out later and join him at the crash site. After an hour of walking, he questioned his own pathfinding skills. He dug deep into his satchel pulling out a crudely drawn map on the back of a bar napkin. It showed a spot for him to land their ship, the Ixion, then a red line drawn with a crimson lipstick showed an entrance into a crevice that would lead him to the crash site.

  He noted the ancient rock carvings and lone desert tree matched the map. He was in the right place; he knew it. So, cursing the burning Sun he pushed on.

  The crevasse snaked its way along the course of a once powerful river that had shaped the landscape. The walls grew taller and drew closer together seeming to touch in the distance but now offered him some welcome shade. Fatigue gripped his limbs, his legs turning into two heavy weights. His water had gone, and a sudden slight tremor of panic ran through his veins. Just as he was about to turn around and plot vengeance on the original map owner, the rock walls widened, and he stepped into a vast open area.

  A thin stream of water crashed down into a glistening pool that sparkled, beckoning him over. Lush plant life, whose petals glowed a myriad of sickly neon colour, sat around its edge with their wilted, near-death cousins a few feet back from the water. Feelo kicked up mounds of sand as he ran and tore away his scarf before splashing the crisp water against his gasping skin.

  “That feels so good,” he filled his flask and checked its chemical readout confirming it was safe. “Great… time for…,” a distant synthesised barking stopped him from diving in. “Meco!” he shouted, “stay there boy, I’m coming.”

  He sprinted away from the oasis towards the tall dunes that rolled away from him like red waves. Another anxious bark, closer this time, drove him to the top of the tallest dune. “Oh my God,” he fell to his knees, unable to understand what he saw.

  An enormous metallic skeleton of beams and pylons laid fractured, like the remains of some prehistoric beast. The ship had split in two; one part was a twisted, blackened web that belied its true fate. The other, however, sat buried nose first into a dune with most of its fuselage still intact and sticking out at an angle.

  He stared at its scarred hull trying to decipher which faction it belonged to. There were no obvious markings designating it as a military vessel, and no insignias showing it belonged to one of the many trade houses. Its design was foreign, unlike anything he had seen in his travels. From afar, it seemed to be built from a cobalt blue metal that refracted the strong natural light that created a weak shimmering iridescence.

  “What is that?” questioned Feelo, squinting to get a better look.

  He ran down the side of the sandbank, but he couldn’t control his descent so came crashing to the ground face first, rolling down its entirety before coming to a gradual stop. It didn’t faze him one bit. He scrambled to his feet and rushed towards the exposed, accessible section.

  “Please be something good, please, please, please,” he whispered to himself as he ran.

  Strewn boxes laid across the entire crash site, the majority already ransacked. Feelo stopped at one, looking at the desiccated, golden wood of its construction, noting its waxy and smooth exterior. Digging through its remaining contents revealed nothing of value. He darted between boxes and found they had all cleaned out.

  “Dammit!” he yelled, kicking one of the reinforced crates, recoiling at its sturdy construction. Moving closer to the crashed ship its true scale and outlandish nature renewed his lost hope for a payday. It towered ten stories above him, each deck had collapsed into the one below leaving its insides a crumpled, almost unexplorable tangle of alloys. He picked up pieces of metal and bizarre damaged devices, anything that looked valuable, before throwing it aside, discarding it like those who had come before.

  With hands on hips, he looked around, disappointed at what he had been led to. “That’s the last time I trust those idiots,” he grumbled, squeezing through a gap in the ship's half that laid flat.

  Only a thin strip of sunlight illuminated the destroyed room. He pulled a torch from his satchel and pushed back the shadows to reveal a scattered mess of twisted metals and polymers covered in fine sand.

  “This is where you come in,” Feelo smiled to himself. Putting the torch into his mout
h he pulled a device from his bag before grabbing the torch in his off-hand. At the rear of the room was a small, exposed part of the ship’s frame. He placed the device against the cold compound and the tip of it erupted into a cloud of sparks and fire. A noise, as if a thousand wasps buzzed around inside a glass box, echoed throughout as he cut through the thick bulkhead. Before long, he had sliced away a section large enough for him to squeeze through. “Worth every credit,” he celebrated alone.

  Shining the torch towards an undamaged piece of wall revealed tall black letters engraved into its surface. “What the hell,” he coughed, rubbing away the invasive coating of sand from the wall. It revealed more of the text, each letter at least two feet tall. He ran a finger down the ‘A’ looking shape, flinching at the sickly warmth which radiated from it. “What is this place?”

  Finding no answer and feeling like he was being watched he crawled back out into the blazing hot dual stars of Aeos and looked for his wayward companion. “Meco!” he yelled, “come on, I haven’t got all day, we gotta’ get back soon.”

  There was no reply.

  With a shrug and knowing his friend disappeared at times, he approached the remaining half of the destroyed vessel.

  Standing in its shadow a deep chill infiltrated his bones. The structure rose above him, blotting out the stars. He was a mere speck compared to the relic, insignificant to its size and scale. But that didn’t disuse him, instead it ignited a child-like excitement at exploring something new.

  Rounding the ship, he found an old berthing dock for passengers. Black star-shaped impacts from light weapons fire-scarred the heavy door. “Huh, someone else found it, too, doesn’t look like they got in though,” he whispered, pulling out his cutting tool.

  Again, it sparked to life as it pressed hard against the metal. A blinding light forced him to avert his gaze at regular intervals, only looking back to make sure he was cutting straight. Before long he had cut a section out just small enough for him to crawl through.

  His entrance to the ship was less stealthy than he had planned. The sound of him hitting the floor reverberated around the spartan room. He slid down and across the floor before slamming against the wall, forgetting that the entire ship was at an angle. Rubbing his head, the torch revealed benches around the perimeter with small hooks above each with some still holding an item of clothing. It amazed him at how little damage there was. The walls, floor, even the above deck all seem structurally sound. An oppressive hidden heat baked the atmosphere, however, forcing Feelo to take sharp, laboured breaths. “This better be worth it.”

  He approached the only door in the room. It sat at a forty-five-degree angle; its frame rotated to the right. He pushed at it, but it was lodged in place with no obvious handle to open it. A small panel sat beside it, and shrugging, he placed a hand against its transparent face, but like most of his life to date, his expectations exceeded reality.

  Throwing caution to the wind, he tore at its mount, dislodging it, allowing the device to crash to the ground and shatter. Where the panel was once mounted, a lattice of crystals now glowed a faint mauve. They pulsated every few seconds making him hyper-aware of his breathing as its rhythm linked to his own.

  “Maybe there’s still power?” he wondered aloud, grabbing at a crystal. A sharp electric shock rushed up his arm. He screamed out in pain and was thrown back, crashing against the wall. The set of crystals hidden under the panel shattered, exploding into thousands of glistening fragments that vaporised and lingered in the air like water droplets.

  Struggling to his feet, the door cracked open and formed a gap just wide enough to fit his hands through. Grabbing onto an outcropping on the wall and the door, he pulled. His face wobbled from the stress; a beetroot red washed under his skin with the force he exerted. He let go, though, letting out a defeated breath before grabbing again, this time trying harder. He let out a strong yell as the doors slid apart until they snapped back just wide enough for him to squeeze through.

  Beyond was a corridor cloaked in darkness. The flashlight reflected off dust and spores which hung in stale air and revealed a set of large cables that ran along the walls. Feelo grabbed onto one, using it as a support as he climbed along the angled deck.

  His instincts screamed, yanking at his muscles warning him to go no further, but he had never paid attention to instincts, so he carried on, ignoring the millions of years of evolution that had gotten him to this point.

  Moving through the ship was easier than expected. The cables provided a good stabilising force as he made his way down the hallway. He paid attention to the language etched into the doors and signage he passed. It was like nothing he had seen before, each word constructed from random swishes of a painter’s brush, the most similar alphabet he could visualise was the kanji of the Resojin Federation, but even then, it wasn’t much alike.

  Everything he passed was sealed away from outsiders and even those aboard at one. Cutting through every door would take too much time, so he had to choose the next target carefully, and so far, nothing had jumped out at him as being interesting or profitable.

  Turning right at a four-way intersection, he spotted a faint red glow coming from a room at the end of the corridor, its door ajar. He made his way down the steep path, keeping a tight grip to the cables. Every step he took the humidity of air the grew more turgid. A comforting heat caressed his exposed arms, almost willing him forwards. From nowhere, a sudden gust rushed through the hallways and blew off his hood, exposing his shaggy chocolate hair while whispering into his ear.

  “Who’s there!?” he spun around sure he had heard the distant voices of someone… or something.

  Turning back, the red glow had intensified, it became a beckoning call, a siren’s song drawing him into the unknown. His pupils grew large, he moved in a trance-like state unsteady on his feet. Slowly, he wobbled towards it leaving his environment behind, forgetting everything he had learnt.

  He stood in front of the doors transfixed by the radiant red glow that had swamped his thoughts. He wanted, no, needed whatever created the sultry radiance. With an inner strength, he pushed the door apart revealing what sat beyond.

  “Oh baby, jackpot,” he grinned. The scavenger’s eternal optimism suddenly crushed any fears he had.

  Sat on a pedestal at the centre of the empty, box room, was a glowing red orb. Four arms stretched out from its central mass and held it in place above the plinth. Instinctively, he charged forwards and hovered above its intense brilliance. His eyes stared into its glass-like material, only eventually noticing he looked back at himself.

  “Finders keepers,” he licked his lips in anticipation.

  Pulling the satchel around from his back, he opened its flap and positioned it between him and the stand. He reached towards the sphere with trembling hands and outstretched fingers. A bead of sweat meandered from his brow before settling on his lips. For a brief second, he hesitated, his skin fractions of a centimetre away from the globe’s surface, but he couldn’t help himself and placed both hands around its warm exterior.

  He was thrown back by a blinding white pulse wave that exploded from the sphere. He landed hard against the wall but held on tight to his new treasure. All around him the ship rumbled and growled as cracks echoed through the barren vessel like gunshots in the night. He felt like he was falling, and for a moment he lifted from the ground before coming crashing back down with a thud that winded him.

  Then there was silence.

  As soon as he regained his composure, he noticed he was suddenly walking horizontally on flat surfaces. Shining the torch about the room revealed nothing new. The orb which fit into the entirety of a single hand, had stopped glowing. Well, that’s weird he thought, rubbing its now cold exterior.

  The structure of the ship rumbled as the vessel collapsed around him. Scrambling for grip he grabbed onto the pedestal and held on tight. “Oh man, what have I done…?”

  2

  COLD STEEL

  Feelo’s world crashed ar
ound him.

  The fabric of the ship crumpled in on itself, old paths disappeared as the above deck collapsed, but it revealed new passages as the floors and walls gave way to the immense downward pressure. Across the room, the wall cracked before exploding outwards in a hail of deadly shrapnel. He took a chance and rushed towards the gap. Jumping through the hole, the room behind imploded as the above deck came crashing down, destroying anything else of value that remained.

  He scrambled to his feet and ran for the door. He took no risks and sprinted back along the path he had taken before. All around him the walls creaked, bowing outwards with every passing second.

  Then, with four loud snaps, the giant supporting beams that held the ship together shattered in unison. The collapsing roof folded into the hallway snapping at his heels. Feelo picked up the pace and pushed harder. But, as he looked behind him, his foot caught a damaged duct that sat in his path. He crashed to the ground, losing grip of the orb which rolled away. “No, no, no!” he yelled, clawing at the floor trying to recapture the escaping treasure.

  It rolled along the debris-strewn floor weaving between the twisted metals as if it had a mind of its own. He stumbled after it, seeing an opportunity to seize it as a fallen terminal blocked its path.

  “Gotcha!”

  Up ahead the door he had cut open provided a beacon of hope. He twisted his slight frame through the gap, but with the entire ship now sitting level on the dunes, the entrance he had cut sat over twenty metres above the hot sands below.

  Feelo looked out the gap, unnerved by the vertical drop. “Not good!” he checked behind him for an alternative but knew what was coming.

  The wave of destruction had caught up with his escape. The frame around the door bent from the immense pressures that squeezed down on it. He took sharp breaths, looking behind him, then looking down at the drop.

  “Oh, what the hell,” he whispered aloud.

  With one foot off the edge, he let himself drop from the massive freighter. His screams echoed around the canyon, but he tried to guide himself towards the nearest, largest dune. In a panic he flailed his limbs as he fell, dropping for what felt like an eternity. Sand exploded around him with his heavy landing. He spun into an uncontrolled roll as he crashed down the steep bank. Coarse grit bounced around in his mouth, providing a crunchy texture every time his teeth clattered together.