By any other name, p.1
By Any Other Name, page 1
By Any Other Name
H. Peter Alesso
Novels by
H. Peter Alesso
BY ANY OTHER NAME SAGA
By Any Other Name © 2024
By Any Other Means © 2024
THE KEEPER SAGA
Keeper of the Algorithm © 2023
Keeper of the Secret © 2023
Keeper of the Truth © 2023
THE HENRY GALLANT SAGA
Midshipman Henry Gallant in Space © 2013
Lieutenant Henry Gallant © 2014
Henry Gallant and the Warrior © 2015
Commander Gallant © 2016
Captain Henry Gallant © 2019
Commodore Henry Gallant © 2020
Henry Gallant and the Great Ship © 2020
Rear Admiral Henry Gallant © 2021
Midshipman Henry Gallant at the Academy © 2022
Other Novels
Captain Hawkins © 2016
Dark Genius © 2017
Youngblood © 2018
Short Story Collection
All Androids Lie © 2022
BY ANY OTHER NAME
H. Peter Alesso
hpeteralesso.com
© 2024 H. Peter Alesso
This is a work of fiction. All characters, dialog, and events
portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance
to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in
a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any
means without prior permission in writing from
VSL Publications
Pleasanton, CA 94566
ISBN-13
Edition 1.00
SYNOPSIS
Sometimes, the right man in the wrong uniform can make all the difference.
Ethan, a lowly recruit with an oil-stained uniform and a spirit worn down by disappointment, finds his life forever changed by a twist of fate. Squinting at his reflection, he sees the sleeves of his borrowed jacket bore captain’s stripes. A grotesque emblem is embossed over the jacket's breast pocket—a roaring lion's head surrounded by a cluster of jagged broken bones—the symbol of the Special Operations Service.
There is no way out. The ship is taking off because they think an elite SOS captain is on board to take command—him.
His choices were brutally simple . . . act like the officer everyone thought he was or be found out as a fraud. One was survival, the other . . .
The consequences sent a wave of panic through him. He was a mouse in a lion's skin. He had to become that lion until he found a way out of his cage.
Ethan's path intersects with Kate Haliday, the leader of the dark matter project in the Cygni star system. A subtle dance of glances and half-spoken truths begins. But the threads of connection are fragile as they are tangled with the ambitions of Commander Varek, a skeptical officer.
The emergence of an unknown alien race casts a long shadow that shifts the cosmic chessboard of a space fleet and a galactic empire. Their interest in dark matter and Earth's colonies weaves a layer of mystery and suspense.
In this hard science fiction dance, Ethan must navigate the intricacies of love, rivalry, and alien invasion. The possibility of being unveiled darkens his every step. With each move, the line between the man he is and the officer he pretended to be . . . blurs.
∞
Juliet: ‘Tis but thy name that is my enemy.
. . . O, be some other name!
What's in a name? That which we call a rose,
by any other name would smell as sweet.
— William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet.
EARTH IMPERIUM—3rd Fleet
Captain Elias Thorne
Spacecraft Carrier - Orion
36 Fighters
48 Bombers
6 Recon
Battlecruisers – Invincible, Indominable
12 Cruisers
48 Destroyers
2 Stealth Recon
12 Auxiliary Support Ship
Sergeant Simpson
2nd Special Operations Services Squad
OV’aa—Battle Fleet
Admiral Zo’axa
4 Dreadnought
6 Battlecruisers
36 Cruisers
88 Destroyers
88 Auxiliary Support Ships
CONTENTS
Chapter 1 Imitation
Chapter 2 Launch
Chapter 3 Collision Course
Chapter 4 Ship Shape
Chapter 5 Piranha
Chapter 6 Paranoia
Chapter 7 Sparkle
Chapter 8 Verdict
Chapter 9 Chat
Chapter 10 Missing
Chapter 11 In the Black
Chapter 12 Chatter
Chapter 13 Breakthrough
Chapter 14 Connecting
Chapter 15 Tea
Chapter 16 Spirit
Chapter 17 Anomalies
Chapter 18 Send Help
Chapter 19 Gathering Storm
Chapter 20 Reckoning
Chapter 21 Gold Braid
Chapter 22 Unmasked
Chapter 23 SOS
Chapter 24 Outpost
Chapter 25 Bird’s Eye View
Chapter 26 Debrief
Chapter 27 Strategic Divide
Chapter 28 Farewell
Chapter 29 Feint
Chapter 30 Mayday
Chapter 31 Darkest Light
Chapter 32 Against the Tide
Chapter 33 Lionheart
Chapter 34 Mockingbird
Chapter 35 Cliffhanger
Chapter 36 It’s Complicated
FROM THE AUTHOR
Chapter 1
Imitation
The acrid stench of hydraulic fluid filled the tiny compartment, stinging Ethan's nostrils and making his eyes water. Hot and stifling panic pulsed in his ears, blurring the dull hum of the starship. The sticky spray of oil from the ruptured valve covered his uniform like a shroud. He frantically sealed the leaking valve and ripped off his offending uniform.
The stink of oil was everywhere. Ethan's finger struck the keypad device which boasted a biohazard sensor. He hit the keys over and over again, but it whined with denial.
A red light blinked: CONTAMINATION!
The hatch remained locked.
He threw his grease-stained clothes into the disposal and fumbled in the dimness for replacements in the belongings he was supposed to deliver aboard the Excalibur.
This was just one more screw-up, but it had him picturing his parents' faces. Their flicker of hope extinguished when word reached them back home on that dirt-poor rock of a planet, he was supposed to save them from.
He had to deliver this gear and then vanish before his reputation as a screw-up caught up with him. He pawed through the gear, hunting for a lifeline in the flickering dim red light.
Finally, his fingers snagged on something stiff and formal amidst the softness of civilian attire. He pulled out a uniform, the weight of it surprising in this frantic moment. Shoving his arms into the sleeves, Ethan slipped on the jacket, then the trousers. The pristine fabric soothing against his skin, a foreign sensation. It felt . . . powerful.
Once more, he tried the keypad. Thankfully, this time the lock released, and the hatch opened.
A sliver of light cut across the deck. Ethan swore under his breath and grabbed the gear. Time was a fist pounding at his skull. If caught now, it'd be more than the brig—he'd be hauled in for insubordination and destruction of naval property. More and more accusations piled up in his mind.
As he stepped out into the blinding light of the corridor, a junior officer, crisp and formal, snapped to attention in front of him.
Ethan almost dropped the gear.
The lieutenant stammered, "Sir, . . . I'm surprised to see you here so early. The manifest listed your arrival on the next rotation."
Sir?
Ethan froze in disbelief, his heart hammering against his ribcage. A single drop of oil ran down his temple. He nodded stiffly, his throat constricting as if caught in a vice.
The officer's eyes were wide, respectful, with a hint of fear flickering within them. "I'll advise the bridge that you’re on board, sir."
His voice was formal, typical of the fleet's discipline, yet there was an undertone of curiosity at this deviation from protocol. He pivoted sharply on his heel and left with a rushed step.
Bewildered, Ethan's stomach plummeted a minute later as the loudspeaker crackled to life.
"All hands prepare for immediate launch."
He heard the clang of hatches and the scurry of the crew dashing to their station. Sealed hatches meant no escape. He was trapped.
His blood ran cold as he caught his reflection in the glossy metal bulkhead. Squinting at the reflection, he saw a ghost. His face, pale above the crisp collar, stared back. The sleeves of his jacket bore captain’s stripes. A grotesque emblem was embossed over the jacket's breast pocket. It was a roaring lion's head surrounded by a cluster of jagged broken bones—the symbol of the Special Operations Service.
Ethan's mouth turned to sand. Whispers of the SOS's merciless missions danced at the edge of his fraying consciousness, each tale more haunting than the last.
His hands shook as he touched the emblem. There was no way out. The ship was taking off because they thought an elite SOS captain was on board to take command—him.
When they jumped to warp , they would realize this supposed officer wasn't who he seemed to be.
He frantically thought—there must be a way, just a sliver of time and space to concoct some half-baked escape plan.
Ethan straightened his new and far too imposing jacket. It sat oddly on his shoulders, the weight of far more than cloth now pressing down on him.
His choices were brutally simple . . . act like the officer everyone thought he was or be found out as a fraud. One was survival, the other . . .
The consequences of the latter sent a fresh wave of panic through him. He was a mouse in a lion's skin. He had to become that lion until he found a way out of this cage.
A wave of dizziness washed over him as he continued down the corridor.
This isn't happening—that internal chant kept looping in his head.
Yet, every step, every crisp salute thrown his way, screamed that it very much was.
He couldn't think.
That'll be a luxury when I'm imprisoned and have unlimited free time.
Ethan's pulse echoed the dread of once more disappointing his family.
"Just don't mess up," were his father's parting words. It was a mantra now twisted into a taunt. A memory flashed—his mother's hopeful smile, fragile as the life they'd eked out on their dust-choked planet.
The ship vibrated beneath his feet as the engines roared to life. Like a slumbering beast she awakened in preparation for the ship's departure from the space station. He clutched the officer's belongings tighter, trembling slightly. This farce could end before it even begins. And he had no doubt it would not end well.
He neared the officer's quarters. If they'd been expecting him, someone with authority might be waiting who'd recognize the insignia and… probably not care one bit about the floundering young third-class petty officer hidden beneath it.
Another loudspeaker announcement blared, startling him: "All officers take your stations. Ten minutes to launch."
Ten minutes.
That was his window, a life preserver in this sudden storm. Ten minutes to invent a plan, a backstory for the very essence of an officer he'd spent years wishing to become . . . and failing.
He opened the hatch to the officer's assigned quarters, revealing a compact but well-appointed cabin. Beyond was another hatch likely leading to the bridge. But hesitation, his ever-present companion, froze him in place. He had to find anything to solidify this act before takeoff made it permanent.
His gaze settled on a tablet resting precariously on the edge of the gear he carried. Reports? Mission details? If he could glean some information, he might find a foothold in this world of captains and covert missions. His desperation gave him a surge of boldness. Then, a glimmer of possibility. It was not a mission file but a personal log, access restricted but not impenetrable. Ethan, whose last punishment detail had involved hacking devices like this one, let him crack the device in a few frantic keystrokes—and he was in.
Ethan's fingers flew over the screen. He swiped through what felt like an endless stream of files and jargon. His pulse throbbed in time with the hum of the engines preparing for launch.
A name materialized: Captain Elias Thorne. Below it, scattered notes. A fondness for a rare tea blend?
That seems strange for a ruthless SOS officer.
There was a coded message about a woman in some far-flung colony. This man, this hardened visage of authority, had fears, preferences . . . cracks in his armor that Ethan might exploit.
The comm unit beeped. Ethan jolted, fumbling the device. A feminine voice, crisp and efficient, echoed in his ears, "Captain Thorne, your presence is required on the bridge. Launch imminent."
"Acknowledged," he barked out, the voice barely his own, roughened with a tension he hoped passed as authority.
He tossed the tablet into his pocket and exited the room with strides he forced to be confident. The corridor was deserted, the ship personnel were busy with their duties.
He reached the bridge, squared his shoulders, smoothed down his too-perfect jacket, and stepped into the ship's epicenter.
The bridge hummed with controlled chaos, a symphony of beeping consoles and urgent chatter. The central viewscreen dominated the room, displaying the sprawling spaceport, its docking bays and glittering ships as a testament to the vast frontier that awaited them. Screens flickered, and officers barked orders.
Ethan's borrowed uniform with its damning lion's head gleaming proudly, drew eyes and silent murmurs.
For the first time, Ethan wondered if anyone knew what the real Thorne looked like.
Chapter 2
Launch
“Attention on deck!” shouted the Marine guard.
The bridge crew stood like statues frozen in antiquity.
Just as frozen, Ethan remained at the hatch for a long moment.
Finally, he breathed, “As you were.”
"Welcome, Captain. I'm Commander Charles Varek, the XO," said a smooth voice, cutting cleanly through the hum of the bridge like a knife through still water.
Ethan stepped onto the bridge deck, finding himself face-to-face with a man whose very bearing commanded attention. The man's uniform was immaculate, each crease sharp enough to cut, and his posture was so perfect it seemed almost sculpted. He was older, his hair touched a bit of silver, and his sharp gray eyes bore into Ethan, appraising him with a cold, calculating gaze.
In contrast, Ethan stood at six foot two inches, his athletic build honed by years of physical training. His brown hair, though slightly tousled from the hasty change of uniform, framed a face that was both handsome and appealing. Hazel eyes, flecked with green and gold, met Varek's steely gaze with a mix of determination and carefully concealed apprehension. Despite the stark difference in their appearances—Ethan's youth and vitality against Varek's seasoned austerity—there was an undeniable presence of the young captain. He had an aura of command that seemed to come naturally, even if it was born of necessity rather than true confidence.
"Commander Varek," Ethan acknowledged, striving to inject a note of authority into his voice.
His eyes widened as he sought to drink everything in. He was impressed by the innovative technology. The novelty of his role on this ship was not lost on him.
Varek said, “We should proceed with the change of command ceremony, sir.”
Ethan nodded.
Varek recited, “Pursuant to fleet orders, Captain Elias Thorne will assume command of the Earth Imperium ship, Excalibur, on this date on the Alpha Centauri Space Station.”
He continued reciting several more official paragraphs, but from that moment forward, Ethan was officially the commanding officer of the Excalibur.
With the formal requirements concluded, Ethan spoke over the address system.
“At ease. Officers and crew of the Excalibur, I’m proud to serve with you. I look forward to getting to know each one of you. For now, we must begin our mission. There are battles to be fought, and the Excalibur has a key role to play.”
Satisfied with his brief statement, Ethan nodded to Varek.
The bridge crew returned to their launch preparations.
"Five minutes to launch, Captain."
The helmsman's voice cut through the blur of faces on the bridge, drawing Ethan's focus.
Five minutes, just enough time to completely unravel.
The Excalibur was a state-of-the-at cruiser that weighed 80,000 tons and had a length of 460 meters and a beam of 60 meters. Its armament included four bow missile tubes, two aft missile tubes, ten short-range plasma weapons, forty laser guns amidships, armor belts, and force shields with electronic warfare decoys and sensors. The 1,314 officers and crew were highly trained and used to dealing with the unexpected.
Outside, the vast emptiness of space contrasted with the ship’s packed bridge crew crowded into a semicircular hi-tech equipment-packed bridge.
Ethan’s knowledge of the ship and bridge procedures was rudimentary. He had only witnessed a spaceship launch from remote stations as a petty officer.
I'll have to pull off the bluff of a lifetime to navigate the next few minutes.
Ethan took a moment to survey the concentric circles of equipment. Its efficient layout with the captain’s chair in the center allowed for numerous AI and virtual screen resources. The entire bridge was buzzing with personnel preparing for launch, but everyone made way for the captain as he took his seat.
