We're about a month away from the 106th anniversary of the Titanic sinking, so it seems like a good
time for me to mention my award winning scifi action adventure novel loosely
based on that event. My book Wreck of the
Nebula Dream was set on a luxury spaceliner in the far future, however.
Here's the plot for Wreck:
Traveling unexpectedly aboard the luxury liner Nebula Dream
on its maiden voyage across the galaxy, Sectors Special Forces Captain Nick
Jameson is ready for ten relaxing days, and hoping to forget his last
disastrous mission behind enemy lines. He figures he’ll gamble at the casino,
take in the shows, maybe even have a shipboard fling with Mara Lyrae, the
beautiful but reserved businesswoman he meets.
All his plans vaporize when the ship suffers a wreck of
Titanic proportions. Captain and crew abandon ship, leaving the 8000 passengers
stranded without enough lifeboats and drifting unarmed in enemy territory.
Aided by Mara, Nick must find a way off the doomed ship for himself and several
other innocent people before deadly enemy forces reach them or the ship’s
malfunctioning engines finish ticking down to self destruction.
But can Nick conquer the demons from his past that tell him
he’ll fail these innocent people just as he failed to save his Special Forces
team? Will he outpace his own doubts to win this vital race against time?
The excerpt, which is
right after Nick is awakened in the middle of the night as the ship apparently
strikes something:
The Ship announced something else but cut off in midword.
There was an unpleasant buzzing.
Captain Bonlors appeared again, but his image
floated in the center of the cabin, not saying anything.
Nick stared at this apparition with cold anger, having no
desire to hear another set of worthless platitudes. He wheeled to return to the
corridor and as he did so, the lights dimmed dramatically. Emergency sirens
began shrieking. Nick was unable to hear himself think over the din. Stalking
through the mute image of the captain, he keyed the door.
The portal opened sluggishly. He shoved past once there was
enough space for his broad shoulders. Back pressed against the half-open door,
he stood for a moment, assessing the current situation in the corridor. It now
added up to pandemonium in any language. The alarms were continuing to blare,
inciting some passengers to panic and immobilizing others. A prerecorded voice
urged calm, in flat, female tones, speaking in a rapid rotation of Basic and
the five other primary Sector languages.
No one was paying the slightest attention. People ran in
both directions, shoving past each other. Some were half dressed, others were
burdened with luggage. There were no crew members at all.
Frowning, he waded into the crowd, going to the left and
staying as close to the wall as he could. Since a Special Forces team’s
survival depended on familiarity with all aspects of their environment, Nick
had noted the location of the nearest lifeboat portal relative to his cabin
upon arrival the first day. Now he worked his way aft to get there.
With supreme – if sadly misplaced – confidence, the captain
of the Nebula Dream had not seen fit
to order a lifeboat drill in the first few days of the cruise, not even after
the middle of the night engine anomaly. Lack of a drill, which was mandatory
per the Interstellar Commerce Commission regulations, was adding to the panic,
Nick had no doubt. Most had probably not even paid attention to the short holo
on safety the Ship played on first entry in each cabin. Now the civilians were
clueless, desperate, and those charged with responsibility for their safety
were nowhere to be seen.
As he came up to the lifeboat portal, Nick was astounded to
see the light flashing red, indicating the LB had been launched. What the fuck? There couldn’t possibly have
been time since the sirens came on to fully load and deploy a boat, even
assuming a full complement of SMT crew had been standing by, waiting to usher
passengers on board.
Continuing down the corridor, Nick wondered who took the LB,
and how many people had managed to escape with it. He suspected he wouldn’t
like the answers much, but he intended to find out, after this was all over. For
an event of this magnitude, an ICC investigatory hearing was a foregone
conclusion.
The crowd increased in size, and the screams and yells
became more specific, the closer he got to the next LB davit. Since Nick was a
tall man, he could see over the heads of most of the crowd. Despite the fact
the alarms had been raging for a good five minutes standard now, he could see
the indicator light was green; this LB had not even been unlocked.
“No one’s boarded yet?” he said, half to himself.
“Two idiots up there, fighting over who gets on first, and
neither one has a clue how to open the damn thing.” A stout woman in a garish
pink and orange robe spun to face him, her voice disgusted but shaking, tears
glistening in her eyes. “They wouldn’t listen, not to me or anyone. I watched
the safety holo my first day on board, so I know how to open the portal, but
would they let me try? No, they would not. I got out of the way when they
started throwing punches.”
Nick wished for a squad of Space Marines or even one other
Special Forces operator. I could sort
this out and get people loading. There was no time to waste. Disasters in space
tended to be abrupt, over with in a violent moment. Whatever had happened to
the Nebula Dream, it was nothing short of amazing they weren’t all dead
already. Can’t push luck too far.
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I enjoyed this story a lot - the action was just non-stop!
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