Starship Superior

by J.N. Chaney, M.F. Lerma

Genres: Space Exploration; Space Marines

Synopsis

Owen Lake never had any interest in space.

After watching his astronaut mother die, he preferred the simple life of a boat captain on Lake Superior. But the simple life was never meant to last.

His charter business is failing, but an opportunity pops up in the form of Dr. Mariana Keller, who's interested in what lies beneath the waves: a mysterious, unnatural blue glow emanating from the depths.

Owen agrees to take her on a clandestine dive to an ancient shipwreck site. With his trusty canine companion Jack by his side, he sets out with Keller, but a simple dive turns into a fight for their lives when a beam pins Mari beneath the wreckage.

As Owen struggles to free her, he is ripped into an underwater hole and finds himself aboard a highly advanced, unmanned spacecraft.

The ship's powerful Artificial Intelligence, which Owen names Jefferson, asks Owen to become a temporary crew member in exchange for the rescue of Mari and Jack. He immediately agrees without a second thought.

After rescuing them, the AI places them in stasis and initiates a launch. With the ship jettisoning Owen, Mari, and Jack toward deep space and a cosmic conflict far beyond Earth's solar system, it's clear there's a lot more to becoming a crew member than Owen could have imagined.

Eleven months later, Owen awakens to discover that he's undergone involuntary biological enhancements that allow him to survive deep space. The enhancements grant him abilities far beyond human limits. But Jefferson's bargain remains absolute: Owen must cooperate and prove his worth on a millennia-old quest for revenge against the enemy Federation... or Mari and Jack will remain frozen forever.

Forced to lead, Captain Owen Lake must now fight a war that began 100,000 years before he was ever born.

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Release date: December 28, 2025

Publisher: Variant Publications

Print pages: 316

Sample

1 ROCK BOTTOM “Extinction is the rule. Survival is the exception.” Carl Sagan “Rules are mostly made to be broken…” General Douglas MacArthur "Now would be the time to run, Owen," hissed my partner as she bolted past where I lay sprawled on the floor. Grumbling, I ordered my body to unfreeze and scrambled to my feet. It was awkward because the reverberation from the energy shield had made all of my muscles have that pins and needles feeling, as if they’d fallen asleep. I was slow. Too slow, so it came as no surprise when I took a hit to the back that pitched me forward again. Text flashed across my heads-up display. WARNING: SYSTEM OVERLOAD... ATTEMPTING TO REPAIR... I stumbled a few steps forward, then took another hit to my left calf that sent me to the ground again. When soldiers get shipped off to war, it's assumed they know battle is always a possibility. Barring a draft or other extenuating circumstances, it's reasonable to also assume they signed up for the job of their own volition.  Me, on the other hand? Yours truly never signed up for a damn thing, yet here I was in the middle of a battle in which I shouldn't have had a stake. Caught between two enemies in a different part of the galaxy and regretting every choice that had led me to this point. And I knew exactly what day the trajectory of my life had changed. It all began on a Tuesday in the middle of July while going through the usual checklist before setting out for a few peaceful hours on the water. ELEVEN MONTHS EARLIER "Owen Lake?" At the sound of my name, I looked up from the rope I'd been inspecting and saw an unfamiliar woman walking toward me. Dark sunglasses covered her eyes, and the faded ballcap she wore made it difficult to see more than an explosion of dark curls that framed her face. She was dressed like anyone else, in a loose button up and pants cuffed above the ankle, but I clocked her for a tourist right away.  The lakeside town of Marquette wasn't small enough for all the residents to know one another by name. On the contrary, it was actually the most populated in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. It attracted a lot of tourists too, and most folks who lived here long enough developed a nose for out-of-towners. This woman wasn't your average visitor though. She knew my name, which automatically set her apart from the rest. "Just a sec," I called back. More curious than alarmed, I gave the rope a tug to make sure it was secure, then straightened as the woman reached me. The black lab that had been waiting patiently at my feet sprang up and started wagging his tail so hard that it snapped painfully against my thigh. Plenty of folks still owned flesh and blood pets, but robotic companions were all the rage these days. I didn't see the appeal. "Don't worry, he's friendly," I said when the woman put a hand in her pocket.  Not that I expected her to hurt my dog, but some people carried bear spray if they were heading to one of the parks, and I preferred to avoid tackling a woman half my size. "Oh, I know. Jack's too sweet for that." Beaming, she pulled her hand free and produced a bone-shaped biscuit. "Is he still allowed to have treats?" This was starting to get weird. How the hell did she know my dog's name? The casual way she spoke also implied that we knew each other. I wanted to ask, but years of dealing with customers on a daily basis supplied me with certain conversational skills. Skills like keeping a straight face when something took me by surprise. That being the case now, I put on my best solemn look and pointed at the now drooling dog. "You said the magic word. If he doesn't get the treat in five seconds, he'll explode." The mystery woman didn't even make him work for it. She dropped into a crouch and held her hand out, palm up. The biscuit disappeared in a slobbery flash. Jack crunched twice before swallowing, then with eyes full of hope, looked up at his benefactor. By that time, I'd scoured the mental files in search of a name to match my visitor's face and had come up empty. "Sorry, but you seem to have us at a disadvantage. Do we know each other?" She wiped the drool on her pants and stood up, her expression sheepish. "Not really. Guess I forgot to introduce myself. Dr. Mariana Keller, from Freshwater Bio Labs." After we shook hands, she nodded at my boat. "We met last summer. My team was split into two groups for the study, and I ended up on the boat with Captain Hargett. Our group was pretty big too, so it's understandable if you don't remember one scientist." Despite my initial confusion, hearing this lady refer to my best friend as a captain made me chuckle. Most people around here owned boats or had at least driven one a time or two, but Chad was a realtor by trade. He did have his captain's license, but only because I'd hired him the summer before he decided to get his real estate license and needed the extra money. After that, my friend helped me out when the need arose, which wasn't often. But now that Dr. Keller mentioned it, a vague memory of the trip in question resurfaced. Two dozen researchers had come to study Lake Superior for a full two weeks. Happy to have paying clients on my otherwise empty books, I didn't much care what they were working on. Their project helped keep me afloat for the following month too. Unfortunately for me, business declined again after that and never bolstered back up. Now I was on the verge of closing up shop for good.  Brushing that depressing thought away, I regarded the woman with more curiosity than hope for a potential client. "Right. I remember now. Your company was taking samples from different parts of the lake. What can I do for you, Miss Keller? Most people call or reserve charters online, so I doubt you came all this way to schedule in person." Her expression turned pragmatic. "No, not quite. I have a proposal for you. FBL is going to launch a new project soon. We have a few research vessels, but they're all reserved for other ongoing ventures. That's what happened last year," she explained. It hadn't occurred to me before to question why an outfit whose main focus was freshwater research didn't have their own boats. Like I said, there were other things on my mind at the time.  "The boss tasked me with securing a captain and at least two vessels," continued Dr. Keller. "It's too early for specifics, of course, but we plan to spend a minimum of three to four weeks here. That could change, depending on what we find." A month? All told, that was a decent chunk of time. Money too. Just not enough to do more than keep me afloat in the short term. Unintended pun aside, staying afloat only applied if they booked and paid me in advance, and by “in advance,” I meant within the next week. I didn't see that happening, considering how this kind of excursion took a lot of detailed planning. I glanced back to where my boats were tied off. The last two, soon to be one. When we were operating at our highest capacity, back before Dad's mind started fading, that number had been five. I was glad he never saw how bad things got.  "Look," I began, turning to face the scientist. "I appreciate you considering me for the job, really.” “Oh?” “As much as I'd love to make my case for being the top choice, it's pointless. Superior Charters will more than likely be out of business by the time your company is ready to draw up any contracts." She slapped a hand to her forehead with a groan. "Jeez. I guess I should have led with this. Sorry. This is why I told them not to send me.” She straightened. “You're on the short list for two reasons, the first being we've previously worked together. The second is that I know you have the business up for sale.” “Huh? Don’t think I follow.” “FBL isn't looking to book your charter company, Mr. Lake. We'd like to hire you and purchase your boats. There aren't many charter companies left. That makes it hard for us to work efficiently. So, rather than try to track down someone who can accommodate our needs for each body of water, we've decided to hire someone on a more permanent basis. Lake Superior is just the first stop. After that, you'd travel with us." Talk about a curveball. “Wow, uh… I’m not sure what to say to that.” My gut reaction was to tell her no. The idea of closing up shop to go work for someone else just didn't sit well. It would be different if Superior Charters was mine and mine alone, but the business had been in our family for six generations. Being responsible for its failure stung more than I cared to think about right now. Unfortunately for me, short of winning the lottery or an equally miraculous event taking place, I couldn't change my fate. "I know this is sudden," she added, pulling her phone out. "So don't feel like you have to answer right this second, but I'll be in town through the end of the week. Please, call me with any questions." She tapped the screen a few times, then looked up expectantly.  A ding from my pocket indicated the arrival of a contact request. “There you are,” she added. I accepted it right away since she was standing there with such an earnest look on her face. Even if I turned the gig down, it was worth giving serious consideration first. "Thanks. Give me a day or two to think on it, but I'll let you know." "That's all we're asking. I look forward to hearing from you, Mr. Lake." After giving Jack one last scratch behind the ear and shooting me a parting wave, Mariana Keller set off down the dock, jacket flapping from a crisp breeze rolling off the water.  "Come on, Jacky boy," I said, turning back to the boat. ”The ARC forecast said clear skies for the rest of the week. Might as well soak up some moon rays before they decide it’s time for more rain.” Atmospheric Remote Control, as I and just about everybody else thought of when referencing the acronym, was a decade old misnomer derived from a catchy headline that stuck. I couldn’t remember the correct name anymore, but it was owned by the world’s leading geoengineering company. They managed the weather, using input from their experts and proprietary algorithms to plan forecasts in advance. Okay, that was a guess because I didn’t have a clue how the process worked. I’m a simple guy who captains boats for a living. It may not require an engineering degree, but it’s honest work that doesn’t put me at odds with the forces of nature. Jack answered with a happy woof. He was a pretty agreeable dog and loyal as they came. Unless I tried to stop him from rolling in mud puddles, didn’t supply belly rubs in a timely fashion, or made him go outside to do his business when temperatures dropped into the negatives. Concepts like those accounted for most of the abstract thoughts taking place in his canine brain.He had, at least, figured out that rain meant no walkies, and he preferred air conditioning during the hotter days. It didn’t matter to him that ARC decided when that rain fell and what the temperature would be on any given day. It didn’t matter to me either, to be fair, unless they changed something last minute and cost me a paying client. At least that rarely occurred. Knowing I also had insurance to cover unexpected changes made by ARC, I boarded the Astrid with Jack and started the pre-launch checklist while he did his part by leaping into the co-captain's seat. Since my dad had been bringing me out on the water since before I could walk, the process didn't require a lot of mental energy. Within just a few minutes, we were puttering away from the slip. Taking a cruise always helped me think. There was something about the steady rocking, crisp air, and general quiet that seemed to make one's troubles feel less overwhelming. Especially now, when the daylight was fading and dusk approached. Most people tended to come back in around this time, ready to relax on dry land after a day of fun spent in the heat and sun. But there were always a few like me. The kind of folks who preferred the less crowded nighttime hours when most of the world was sleeping. I found a good spot to park, facing away from the shoreline. The sky was clear. Canada lay 150 miles to the north, but you couldn't see it. The lake was so wide that it looked like an ocean even in the light of day. When I dropped anchor, a school of BlueGlo shot off toward open water. BlueGlo was a misnomer that stuck when the Bluegill population turned bioluminescent from an experimental substance meant to target invasive species in the lake. Which I now remembered was why Dr. Keller and her team had come the year before. The mishap resulted in a steep decline of both the invasive and native species that called Lake Superior home and made the remaining wildlife unsafe for human consumption. No one had predicted that particular outcome, once again proving that hindsight was a bitch. My phone went off, startling me back to the present. It was a text alert from my older sister. One glance at the time told me I was late. It had become a weekly custom after our father passed to take turns calling so we could catch up and check in on one another. For Katie, checking up on her baby brother just so happened to include subtle digging as to whether the family business had attracted any buyers. Thanks to Dr. Mariana Keller, today marked the first time I could answer in the affirmative.  Don't get the wrong idea—Katie’s curiosity had nothing to do with money, she just wanted to make sure her baby brother wasn’t getting screwed over. Jack jumped down to follow me onto the deck, sticking his nose up to sniff at the air. He'd been joining me for trips like this since puppyhood and was more than accustomed to lake life. He was seven now. Past middle-aged in dog years, a fact that showed when he climbed up onto one of the bench seats a tad slower than usual.  "Guess it's time to see the vet about those joint supplements, eh, boy?" His only response was to yawn. Chuckling, I gave him a pat and turned to stare out over the mostly empty expanse of water. Back when the fish that came out of Lake Superior was edible and clients were still plentiful, I never had a lot of free time to come out here for fun. Not that I minded a busman's holiday, but other tasks took priority, even on days off. Now my days were pretty free. Silver linings, as people said. I let my mind wander a bit. Mulling over the unexpected job offer provoked a sense of guilt that was quickly brushed away. As much as the family business meant to me for obvious reasons, I was the practical sort. An opportunity like this might not come again. That thought kept circling, along with the memory from yesterday's review of the upcoming month's financials. There just wasn't enough cash to go around. Robbing Peter to pay Paul had been my strategy for the last year or so, but I was out of options, and no amount of clever budgeting would save my ass this time. The telltale chime of yet another incoming call broke me from my thoughts. I almost ignored it, but the screen readout said it was Mariana. Well speak of the devil. I answered before I could second-guess the decision. "Dr. Keller. What can I do you for?" "Sorry to bother you again, Mr. Lake," she began, sounding amused. "But it just hit me that I never sent the offer details. Do you mind if I do that now?" "Sure. I'm still out at the moment but—" The rest of my response was cut off by Jack, who chose that moment to start growling. A quick glance revealed that his hackles were raised. "Sorry, Doc, let me call you back." I ended the call without waiting to hear her response. Jack rarely barked and never growled unless some danger presented itself. Concerned, I followed the direction he was pointed and caught sight of a faint glow beneath the surface. A damn school of fish.  "Maybe we should have the vet check your eyes first, pal," I remarked, shaking my head. "It's okay, buddy. Just some BlueGlos. You've seen them a million times." He glanced back at me with worried eyes and whined before turning to growl at the water again. I started to try and soothe him, then thought better of it. Plenty of people who dismissed warning signs from their pets later ended up regretting that decision. Not wanting to become a statistic or a cautionary tale, I opted to take a closer look. Not too close though. I'm not an idiot.  I got a good grip on the side of the boat and braced my legs, then opened the camera on my phone and hit record, just in case. Slowly, I eased over the side and peered into the water. The circular glow I'd seen was still there, but it was a lot bigger than my initial assumption. Deeper, too. The water was cloudy, as if something had disturbed the lake bed, but I could see that the bioluminescent fish were down a few meters. The size and brightness of the glow indicated that there were a lot of them. Way more than I'd ever seen.  Then the fish moved… and I saw a large shadow through the murkiness.  I jerked back and stood there for a second. "Nope," I told Jack, stepping away from the edge. "That's our cue to go home, boy." He let out a low whine that sounded a lot like agreement as I went to pull up the anchor. ...