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  A NineStar Press Publication

  Published by NineStar Press

  P.O. Box 91792,

  Albuquerque, New Mexico, 87199 USA.

  www.ninestarpress.com

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  Copyright © 2019 by M.D. Neu

  Cover Art by Natasha Snow Copyright © 2019

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact NineStar Press at the physical or web addresses above or at Contact@ninestarpress.com.

  Printed in the USA

  First Edition

  January, 2019

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-949909-88-3

  Print ISBN: 978-1-949909-96-8

  Warning: This book contains sexual content, which may only be suitable for mature readers, and the death of a character.

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  A New World, Book One

  M.D. Neu

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Glossary of Terms

  Glossary of Clans

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  For my family and friends.

  One: Best Option

  MAINTENANCE DRONES PASSED the Speaker General’s window as Mirtoff stifled a yawn. How long would they be here this time? The fleet stopped in a holding pattern while repairs were performed, the darkness of space surrounding them. Soft light from the window surround bathed her in a warm glow as she brushed away the few strands of hair that dropped from her tightly braided bun.

  The past several months had been difficult, and she’d had little sleep. The suffering of her people weighed heavily on her. Mining Ship 9 had a malfunction in one of its storage bays while on an Ĩ-type asteroid pulling out much-needed water, nickel, cobalt, and platinum. One hundred and fifty people died that day.

  She perused her terminal, chairs, conference table, and sofa. At times her office was claustrophobic. It’s bigger than what most of my people have. She gathered her scattered thoughts and sipped from the now warm cup of tuma.

  Faa was curled up on the couch. Their gazes met, and a comforting smile filled his face. He closed his big green eyes and nestled his gray, fur-covered head onto one of the sofa’s pillows for a nap. His tail shifted gently back and forth.

  He’s calm today.

  They’d been inseparable since he was plucked from the wreckage of Agricultural Ship 15 ten years ago when he was a seyas. Perhaps a month old. She had been consoling survivors and reviewing the damage. Twelve people died that day, including her sister-in-law.

  Faa still suffered from nightmares, but he had always been a sensitive cádo. If he could communicate his pain and fear better so she might help him, maybe it wouldn’t bother her so much, but the cádo were limited in that manner. She always considered it so unfair to them, particularly Faa.

  Sighing, Mirtoff took a final swallow of her tuma, savoring the last of the now warm liquid, preferring it chilled as it should be, but unwilling to cool it again. The sweet, spicy flavors were still there, so the taste was pleasant enough. Turning her attention back to the chaos of her desk and the report-filled datapads, she rubbed her temple. The people and the cádo were weary of traveling through space. It had been too long.

  If J’Veesa had intended Mirtoff and the Nentraee people to wander the stars, she would never have created their world, even if it was gone now. They had a home once.

  They needed to find somewhere they could build a new life, a new world. They needed off these ships.

  She glanced out the window again at the 450 ships carrying her people. How long would it take them to find a home?

  Of course, there were other worlds and other civilizations, but none that fit her people and their needs. J’Veesa never meant for the Nentraee to be worshiped like gods; there was only one God, J’Veesa. Many names, yes, but there was only one.

  They needed to either find a world void of life or one with a civilization they could work with and learn from. Their first choice was a world with equals on it.

  What if they never found one? What if the ships stopped working? What if they were forced to do what some in the military had suggested? What if they had to take advantage of a lesser civilization? Or worse, what if…

  “Enough,” she huffed and turned back to the reports.

  Faa startled and glanced up at her. “Provider?” he asked in a soft murmur. His speech was poor but understandable.

  “It’s nothing, little one. I’m sorry.”

  He shook his head and settled back in his chair, his big eyes not leaving her.

  She grabbed one of the datapads to review. Agricultural Ship 23 was still under repair, forcing the other agro ships to increase production and require rationing. Again. She sighed.

  There was a chirp at the door. Odd. Is it that late? Faa’s eyes didn’t leave her, but his floppy ears perked up.

  Her aide, Danu, was gone for the day. The lines of her mouth softened into a smile when the visitor’s image appeared on her desk monitor. She tapped a button on the screen, and then the door opened swiftly and Mi’ko entered.

  “Vice speaker, tell me you’ve brought good news,” Mirtoff’s brows raised, and her lips pulled up at the edges. “Would you like a tuma? It’s a little warm, but it’s still good.”

  Faa looked at the vice speaker; his eyes softened and his muzzle twitched. If anything happened to her or her family, she wouldn’t be surprised if he chose Mi’ko as his new Provider.

  Mi’ko regarded her with his aging, aqua eyes. The wrinkles around his mouth turned up into a smile as he spoke. “No, thank you, Madam Speaker.”

  He was still in his traditional gray suit. She wondered if he’d been home yet. His brown hair was neatly groomed and pulled back, past his shoulders. His lopsided tieback was coming loose, which allowed a few wisps of hair to fall free.

  “I have news,” Mi’ko said. “The signals we’ve been studying have promise. We locked onto the frequencies, followed them, and found more transmissions.” He typed on his datapad and a three-dimensional holographic image lifted from the screen, revealing a small solar system. He pointed at the third planetoid, and it zoomed in. “I think this might be what we’ve been looking for.”

  Mirtoff sipped her tuma and joined the vice speaker, leaving her work and her frustrations behind. She strolled to the screen on the wall by her conference table. This was a neutral space for her to meet with her staff or the other members of the Speaker’s House.

  Jumping off the couch, Faa swiftly followed her and lay by her feet. Reaching down, she scratched his head. He often whined about the room being too stifling, but thankfully, not today. The parks and their trees were his pref
erence.

  The vice speaker waved the holographic image away, pulled up a different file on his device, and swiped them over to the larger monitor. “It’s a collection of speeches. We’re halfway through the translations. What we do know so far is there are multiple languages and cultures, which could be both good and bad. It shows high intelligence.”

  Mirtoff set her tuma down.

  Mi’ko cued the wall-mounted monitor as an image slowly appeared. Grainy, at first, but clearing. What came into view were snippets of a dark-skinned being almost like the U’Ztraee in coloring. Under the image: Martin Luther King, Jr. “…dream.” The being was standing at a podium, speaking:

  “Five score years ago, a great American…signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came…of Negro slaves…seared…injustice. It came…end the long night of their captivity…”

  The first video ended, and Mi’ko tapped his datapad. “The life forms seem inspired by what it’s saying. I’m eager for our linguist teams to finish working on the translations. The beings have a similar appearance to ours, but we will have to clear up the images for better examination.”

  The next broadcast started. This one showed a pale-skinned being wearing some form of optical assistance device with the words: “United States” under the creature. The life form looked very Caleen, sitting in some kind of assembly hall with a gold backdrop.

  “I doubt if anyone…except possibly…the Soviet Union has any doubt about the facts. But…the Soviet Government up…Thursday, when…denied the existence…installing such weapons in Cuba…evidence available right now…”

  Again, the image faded out as Mi’ko swiped a new file over. “I don’t know what to make of that last one. The creatures did not seem pleased.” After another pause, the next one started. The audio degradation was more present, and the vice speaker needed to make a few adjustments. There were no images to accompany the speech. The words that came were of a different language and sounded harsh and more guttural.

  “The crisis in German economics…is expressed by our economic statistics, but it is above…internal course of our economic life, in…organization…here we can indeed speak of a crisis which… It is the crisis which…between capital, economics, and people. This crisis is particularly…relations between our workmen and the employers. Here the crisis…than in any other country in the world…”

  Mirtoff tapped her mug. “Speeches made by the same creatures of different cultures, it would seem. Not an unattractive race, certainly not Nentraee. They can clearly pontificate and bring in masses of their fellow beings. Do we have anything that reflects their technology or knowledge?”

  Mi’ko typed out a few commands on the screen. “It would seem so, but we’re not sure how advanced they are. We have images of air shuttles, large ocean vessels, and small space vehicles.”

  The screen came to life, and an older being in a dark suit appeared. It looked Caleen, similar to the other being with the visual aid. However, this life form’s pale face had dark circles under its eyes. The corners of its mouth fell as the image filled the screen.

  “Nineteen years ago…lost three astronauts in a terrible accident on the ground. But we’ve never lost an astronaut in flight…And perhaps we’ve forgotten the courage…the shuttle. But they, the Challenger Seven…the dangers…”

  The image changed. On one side, a mix of beings, in blue suits holding helmets. On the opposite side, an image of a ship, lifting off, and within seconds, exploding on screen with the words written underneath: “Space Shuttle Challenger explodes… seconds… liftoff.”

  Mirtoff’s concentration broke when Faa got up and circled the vice speaker’s feet. Mi’ko’s face softened as he glanced at the cádo, who beamed up at him. Mi’ko was about to lean over to pet him, but Faa moved back over to Mirtoff with a murmured giggle.

  “Madam Speaker, there were other speeches with varying tongues, but these are the longest and clearest. We’ve also tracked broadcasts with flowing qualities similar to our language; we are studying those as well, but those vary greatly and are accompanied by nonverbal rhythmical sounds. They’ll offer us the greatest chance at further translation and study.” He placed the datapad on the table before continuing. “We have additional images of these beings, but they show a great deal of war, death, and destruction, some natural and some not.”

  Sighing, Mirtoff turned to the vice speaker, rubbing her temples. Faa nudged against her leg to offer support and comfort. “Images of pain and sorrow don’t require any translation, do they?”

  Mi’ko’s expression dropped as he fussed with his tieback again, trying to straighten it. “No, Madam Speaker, they don’t.”

  Mirtoff stood, causing Faa to scramble off. Gliding back over to her desk, she picked up one of the reports. She frowned. All they brought was bad news. “What else do we know about these creatures?”

  The vice speaker cleared the reviewed files with a wave of his wrinkled hand over the datapad. Sitting in front of her desk, he spoke. “We traced the signals and where they came from—sector 19.70a.1027sj. A small solar system, one main sequence star with various planetary bodies; theirs is the third planet with one stable orbiting planetoid.”

  He pulled up the holographic image of the solar system again and they watched the three-dimensional image lift from the device filling the space in front of them. He tapped a few commands, and the image increased in size.

  “Similar to our solar system,” Mirtoff sipped her almost forgotten tuma.

  Mi’ko picked out the third planet. It appeared to be an oxygen-based planet with heavy atmosphere. It showed up as a blue world with white clouds covering parts of it. Both he and Mirtoff studied the holoimage.

  He reduced the size of the holographic image, moved it to the side, and pulled up another image that lifted from the device’s screen. It was their fleet.

  Mirtoff leaned in closer to see the ships.

  That’s all of us. Four hundred and fifty ships. Everyone else left behind dead.

  “Given our current fleet status, lack of resources, and repairs that still need to be made, it will take us between nine and twelve months to reach them, should we go.”

  He highlighted the ships in red that still needed repairs.

  Her eyes closed.

  So many.

  “It would give us more time to study them and their cultures. It would also give us the time needed for our people to learn the basics of their main languages.”

  “Home, Provider?” Faa asked. “A new home?” He jumped up on Mirtoff, nuzzling her neck happily.

  Her laugh filled the office with warmth. “Faa, that tickles. Be a good cádo. Go to your spot.”

  He’s such a dear one. Always bringing me joy.

  He jumped off and bounced to his place on the sofa. His joy at the prospect of a new home made her smile. Possibly, it was what they needed, but could she be sure this new world would be the right choice?

  “You’re my top advisor and the vice speaker of our people.” Her eyes met Mi’ko’s. “What do you think?”

  “Madam Speaker, that’s your decision,” Mi’ko said. “You’re our leader. My duty is to provide you with the information I can so you can make the best possible decisions.” His brows were furrowed. “However, considering the state of our people and our fleet…”

  Her groan was louder than she wanted. He’s right. “Very well. Pull the information you have, and call the Speaker’s House together to discuss our options. I want to know everything about this species. Find images of hope, something we can show to the others. These beings may appear similar to us, but they are not us. They must have something good. Are there more images of them traveling into space? An outpost, perhaps? Something on their orbiting planetoid? Is their technology similar to ours? Anything like that would do wonders.”

  The vice speaker made notes on his device. The energy in the room shifted. It seemed lighter and the atmosphere more energetic than when he entered. It was a welcome change
.

  “We’ll keep this quiet for now. I don’t want to get our people’s hopes up. We’ve been through this before, with bad outcomes.”

  Mi’ko’s face hardened. They had, indeed, learned from their mistakes. “Of course, Madam Speaker. It will be kept within the confines of the government. For now.”

  Mirtoff leaned forward, her voice becoming quiet. “I don’t have to tell you General Gahumed will be difficult, especially if these beings have military technology similar or greater than ours. Let’s do our best to anticipate her arguments and have rebuttals in place. We can’t afford constant challenges and her pushing for military intervention.”

  “Of course, Madam Speaker. I’ll do my best.” Mi’ko stood. “May you rest well.” He lingered in the doorway. “Madam Speaker?”

  She put down the datapad, allowing the new information to load.

  “Regardless of what happens, we can’t keep it quiet for long. Our people are restless. They need hope, even if it’s a tiny glimpse in absolute darkness.”

  “May you rest well, my friend,” she said and went back to the report.

  He bowed, touched the panel next to the door, and when it opened, he strolled out.

  “Well, little one, no dinner with Ecra and Suloff tonight,” she said. “I have to go over this new information.”

  The grin on his face fell as did his floppy gray ears. “Provider, no Suloff? No scratches?”

  “Sorry, little love. But maybe we’ll walk the park on the way home and get something at the promenade.” She checked her now empty cup of tuma. Should I have another cup? Her head shook in the negative. Instead of having more, she picked up the datapad and scanned the new files over to her terminal.

  Will this be it? A tingle of excitement filled her chest, but she needed to be the voice of reason and keep things in perspective.

  They would have a lot to learn, but Mi’ko was right. She had to make the decision to explore this new world and race. Her people needed hope, something to grasp.

  “One step at a time,” she whispered. This burden came with being the Speaker General. She had to weigh the options and make the best choice she could. But would it be the right one? Would it be enough?