Bishop's Gambit Read online

  Bishop’s Gambit

  The Bishop Archives Book 1

  Jeremy Fabiano

  Bishop’s Gambit

  The Bishop Archives Book 1

  JEREMY FABIANO

  Copyright © 2019 by Jeremy Fabiano

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to reality is coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  www.jeremyfabianoauthor.com

  Cover design by ProBook Premade Book Covers

  Editing by Kelly Hartigan

  Acknowledgments

  This ended up being the second book I’ve written, and thus the Acknowledgements section is much shorter. When you read Legend of the Sword Bearer… yeah. Several pages of people to mention.

  I still need to thank Kelly Hartigan as always. She will likely be a part of every book I write. You all don’t see how badly I misuse commas and semicolons and hyphens at three in the morning. She does. She’s the hero that spares you from that madness. http://editing.xterraweb.com/

  Mike Derryberry. You inspired the desert fight in Legend of the Sword Bearer and restored my faith in the ancient Precipice book I was writing ten years ago. That led to the creation of a set of plans for an eight+ book series, with the Bishop Archives as a spinoff / intro series. Thanks for always having my back and being a sounding board for many of my ideas.

  My wife, Brandi Fabiano for always believing in me and keeping me moving forward, no matter the struggles. I’d likely have given up several times if she hadn’t reminded of why I started this journey to begin with.

  And my son, for always asking questions I hadn’t thought of and being honest when he didn’t like an aspect of the story.

  Jeremy Fabiano

  Also by Jeremy Fabiano

  The Tempest Chronicles

  Legend of the Sword Bearer - Feb 1, 2019

  A Fable of Flame - Mar 1, 2019

  Legend of the Dwarven King - Coming Soon!

  The Bishop Archives

  Bishop’s Gambit - Jan 15, 2019

  Bishop’s Ultimatum - Mar 15, 2019

  Co-Authored Works

  Roger - Tales of Courage from the Apocalypse - with T M Edwards - Jan 1, 2019

  Adam - Tales of Courage from the Apocalypse - with T M Edwards - Coming Soon!

  For my loving wife, and my amazing son.

  It is my hope that these words, excavated from the depths of my imagination, written upon these pages and ink, pixels and electrons, outlast my mortal body and are remembered for all time.

  Ian, we need to conquer the Amazon. And I don’t mean the forest…

  We shall, my friend.

  Jeremy Fabiano & Ian Lahey

  Contents

  Introduction

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  A note from the author…

  About the Author

  Introduction

  The Bishop Archives is a spinoff series for a future Sci-Fi series that I have planned. Originally, there were three colony ships. Two escaped, but that is for the other series. The Bishop Archives focuses on the one that didn’t.

  I hope you enjoy this exciting look into Bishop’s struggle to find his place in the universe.

  Jeremy Fabiano

  1

  I stood below the fractured skies of our ancestral home, shaking my head. “Such a shame,” I said to Anne. “It really is beautiful. You think we'll live here someday?”

  Apparently, about a hundred and fifty years ago, we were testing some new faster than light engine and there was a freak accident. One of the ships was attacked by a rogue party trying to claim the drive. A lucky missile cracked one of the drive cores and set off a chain-reaction antimatter explosion.

  Aliens came out of subspace declaring that only the chosen few races, which had been ordained by the gods, were to travel at the speed of light. Those who would blaspheme against the gods were to be eradicated.

  Earth had sent several prototype colony ships off into deep space to escape their wrath; however, our ship was shot down and crash-landed on the moon.

  No human or animal life survived on the planet, yet we had to come to the surface every few months for water. Luckily, the air was still breathable, just really cold. It'd been this way for a century and a half. What was left of humanity in this system was just barely surviving.

  “Bishop, quit daydreaming, and come help me with these repairs,” grumbled my little sister. “It's only a matter of time before the Sentinels come searching. We have to get off the surface before sunrise.”

  Hours later, I watched the beautiful sunrise through the canopy window as streaks of moisture beaded up and streaked down the glass. The Strider climbed toward space, and I watched the mountains fall away far below us. Looking out the side, I could just make out the black dots on the horizon, backlit in the morning glow. Sentinels.

  “It's gonna be close,” said Anne. She was an expert pilot. But even with her skills, she was right. “Get ready, it's going to be rough.”

  I nodded and reclined my chair, as I pulled on the interface gloves and helmet. A tingling sensation ran through my body as I became the ship. Or rather, its sensory network connected into my central nervous system. Through my sensors, I could feel the ground falling away and gravity lessening its pull on the ship. I could see the Sentinels clearly. Their long tentacles reached menacingly toward us as static electricity began building in their biological cores. I deployed our own weapons just in case.

  “Beginning ascent,” said Anne over the comms. The nose of the ship climbed, and I could feel the G-forces increase exponentially as we went vertical and climbed for space.

  Shock lances of focused static electricity began to hammer the back of the ship, but the armor plating held as the sky turned to black. The Sentinels needed oxygen for their biological cores, and thus, they wouldn't be able to follow us into space.

  “Did we get enough water for the colony?” I asked as I removed the interface gear.

  Anne shook her head. “There's enough to survive, but no one will be showering more than twice a month if they're lucky.”

  “You’d think for all of our advanced technology we'd be able to synthesize water.”

  “From what? Moondust?” she asked, laughing. “We need the oxygen and hydrogen from the water to power the colony ship and keep everyone breathing.”

  “Just wait, sis,” I said. “One day, I'm gonna snag an asteroid and get enough ore to fix the colony ship and move us back to Earth.”

  “An asteroid? How?” she asked between fits of laughter. “Even if we hitched a ride on one of the freighters, our little tub wouldn't be able to handle the inertial stress. It'd rip the ship apart before you even attached to the asteroid.”

  “Don't laugh, sis,” I said, scowling. “It'll happen one day.”

  “Bishop, I love you. But you're only seventeen, and you don't even have an education. They're not gonna let you use up resources that the colony can use for more important projects. Hell, the only reason we even have the ship is that Mom and Dad left it to us.”

  “What's my age have to do with it? You're only sixteen, and you're one of the best pilots any of us has ever seen.” She blushed. “I'll find a way and I'll save the colony ship.”
<
br />   “Unidentified ship, please send identification codes,” chattered the comms console.

  Anne responded with whatever today's rotating code cipher was, and we proceeded to dock with a massive freighter. Once aboard, we helped connect the freighter’s hoses to our cargo bay and let their workers do the rest.

  “I'll catch you at dinner,” said Anne. I nodded, mind entirely elsewhere, and I headed off toward the back of the cargo bay.

  I waited by some storage crates until a scruffy-looking man in his mid-twenties approached me.

  “Bishop,” he said.

  “Steve,” I nodded. “Did ya get it?” I asked, beside myself with excitement.

  “Kid, you have to get that eagerness under control. If we hadn't been friends, I'd have price gouged you for being an easy mark.” He chuckled. “Had to pull some strings, but yeah, I got it.” He pulled a small black cylinder out of his coat pocket.

  “No shit, you're serious?” I asked.

  “Military grade even. Don't get caught with it.” He looked around again. “And you didn't get it from me.”

  I nodded and took the cylinder. We parted ways as calmly as we could and put some distance between ourselves. Hoarding military spec technology was a huge crime on the colony ship.

  Back aboard the Strider, I quickly pulled out my interface gear and all of my tools and laid everything across the workbench. This is going to be so amazing!

  I took out the new chip that Steve had acquired for me and set it on the antistatic pad next to my interface helmet. Carefully, I removed the access panel on the back and found the processing unit. I swapped it with the military spec processor and flipped the switch. Nothing happened.

  I looked at the status indicators and the OVERLOAD indicator was flashing. "What the hell?" I asked to the open air. After some thought, I tested the power consumption at the test point near the processor and found that there wasn't enough juice to power it.

  After connecting some spare micro-thin synapse wires from the processor to the main power junction, the helmet came to life. I smiled as I cleaned up the equipment and tools and dragged all the interface equipment back to the cockpit.

  After making sure all the connections were secure, I reclined in the seat and started up the system. The usual pre-checks went off without a hitch and in a fraction of the time. Then the headache started. I had expected some discomfort but nothing like this. I pushed on.

  I became the ship. And vicious, agonizing pain erupted throughout my entire body. My vision went white.

  2

  The white nothingness slowly faded away, and I found myself staring up at dirty metal ceiling plates I didn't recognize. My throat was parched, and my nose itched. I reached up to scratch when I noticed my arm trailing IV lines.

  “What the hell?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

  “Neural shock, son,” said a deep baritone voice. “Do you know where you are?”

  “No,” I managed. “What do you mean, neural shock? I was just on my ship a few minutes ago.”

  “Son, you’re in the medical ward of the Bastion freighter. You've been in a coma for a week. Some sort of malfunction in your neural interface set off a cascade synapse feedback loop. Your brain basically rebooted itself to avoid injury.”

  I nodded. “When can I leave?”

  The doctor thought for a moment. “When those IV bags are empty, I suppose. Do be more careful. Next time, your sister may not be around to find you drooling like a potato.”

  I frowned. “Potatoes don't drool.”

  “Well, this one did.” He chuckled. “Listen, son, I have a pretty good idea what you were doing.” I tensed. “It isn't my business to care or to report it, just, be careful. Maybe ease into it. Even the military boys didn't Dive on full resonance their first go round. It took them months of training and rigorous mental exercise. Something to think about...” He patted me on the shoulder and left.

  Lower the resonance… not a bad idea.

  A few hours later, a nurse had come by, removed the IV lines, and given me a clean bill of health. Then, my sister punched me in the gut and almost sent me back. Instead, I fell to the ground, clutching my stomach.

  “What the hell were you thinking, Bishop?” She stood over me with her hands on her hips as I tried to get my breath back. “You could have died. Or fried your brain. Or—”

  “I know what’s wrong with the ship,” I wheezed.

  “What?”

  “The ship,” I said. “I can fix it.”

  Anne sighed. “There’s nothing wrong with the Strider. Most of the time.”

  “The starboard engine is barely at twenty-seven percent efficiency. The portside is at sixty-eight percent. The stabilizers are barely functional.” I counted points off on my fingers as I listed them. Anne stared at me, mouth agape. “And the generator has a harmonic imbalance that will eventually rip the core apart. The Strider has maybe a year or two at most before it won’t ever fly again.”

  She shook her head. “You found all that out in that short time?” she asked.

  I smiled. “A ton more, but I don’t want to bore you with the details. The point is, I can fix it. The ship’s blueprints are a lot more detailed now. It’s like, instead of just a brief overview, I can see every synapse circuit and every conduit in the entire hull.”

  “That’s great…” She frowned. “How’s that supposed to help if you microwave your brain?”

  “That was my mistake. I didn’t ease into it. I had the resolution at a hundred percent my first time with the new processor. Apparently, it took the military guys months to ease into it. I just have to turn it down and get used to the extra data streams.”

  “I don’t like it. But okay… As long as you promise to be careful.”

  “I promise, sis. I won’t overdo it.”

  “You’d better not,” she said as she helped me off the deck plating. “Now, what kind of parts do we need?”

  We’d been inside the used parts shop on the colony ship for hours. Anne, Steve, and I scoured through most of their displayed inventory. Luckily for us, we had found many of the pieces I'd need to repair the Strider. I looked over at the parts sled I was hauling around and realized it would take quite some time to get everything installed.

  “Hey,” said Steve. “I’ve been talking to the shopkeeper and think I can get us a quantity discount on the order.”

  “Perfect,” I said. “It’s going to eat up a lot of our budget buying all of this equipment.”

  Steve leaned in toward me. “Hey, Bishop,” he said under his breath. “They have a military spec antimatter ionizer, and it's in great shape. Pricey though…”

  My eyes widened. “Can we afford everything if we grab it?” I asked.

  “Just barely,” he said. “And it’s the only way she’ll give us the discount. We take it, no questions asked, get the ionizer, and get a discount. You want it?”

  “Hell yeah,” I whispered. “I need it.” Steve nodded and walked away.

  “Why do I get the feeling you two just blew the rest of our budget?” asked Anne, frowning.

  “Worth it,” I said. “Promise.”

  Back at the Strider, we dragged our crate of mismatched spare parts into the cargo hold.

  “You hanging around?” I asked Steve as he handed me a crowbar and took the other for himself.

  “Nah, all this gearhead stuff just gives me a headache,” he said as we pried open the lid on the crate. “Let me know if you need a hand with your next outing. I hear they're sending everyone out to the mines this time.” He smiled. “Got me a new mining laser I'm dying to try out.”

  “Man, you’re welcome to come with us anytime we head out.”

  “I appreciate that,” he said. “Will talk soon.”

  “All right, take care. And thanks.” We shook hands.

  “So, what’d you two blow our budget on?” asked Anne, hands on her hips.

  I grinned. “Guess,” I said.

  “Damn it, Bishop, just
tell me.”

  “They had a military spec antimatter ionizer,” I said.

  Anne’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding me,” she said.

  “Right?” I carefully pulled the ionizer out of its packaging and showed her. “See?”

  Her eyes widened. “Wow… I’ve never seen a design like that before. Are you sure you can install it without blowing up half of the colony ship?” she asked.

  “Yup,” I said, nodding. “This will give the reactor a new lease on life. Not to mention the massive boost in output as well as a lot more efficient antimatter reaction.”

  “Well?” she asked. “What are we waiting for?” She beamed with excitement as she tore into the box of parts. We laid the parts out in the order that we’d install them, and I grabbed the interface gear and our toolsets.

  Anne and I spent the rest of the night installing and swapping parts. It was probably five in the morning ship time before we finally collapsed, exhausted.

  I woke up still in the cargo hold with a blanket on top of me. My neural interface gear sat beside my makeshift bed.

  “New orders just came in,” said Anne as she handed me a plate of eggs and vegetables. “You think the ship is ready?”