Page 1 of Lost in Barbarian Space

~ OFFICIAL DOCUMENT ~

Galactic Institute of Historical Preservation

Private Memo from Director Niklas Phoenix to Head of Security Nera Darc

Subject: Sensitive information re: Markarian Expedition

Nera,

I’ve finished reviewing the old Earth archives you…acquired for me. I’ve discovered something fantastic but incredibly sensitive to our expedition to Markaria. It directly relates to the starship, Excalibur, that crash-landed on Markaria and founded their culture.

I won’t divulge the information in this memo. Please find me when you finish training with your security team and we can discuss the matter in private. We cannot afford for this information to get out before we reach the planet.

The Magellan is ready to depart, and I suggest we start our expedition as soon as possible. My astro-archeologists are ready and I’m certain your team shakes in their boots whenever you speak to them, so I’m sure they won’t complain if we move the launch date up a few days.

Sincerely,

Niklas

P.S. I may have neglected to mention that we have a student assistant joining the expedition. I’ll tell you more about that later, too.

P.P.S. When I say we’ll discuss this in private, I mean in our cabin, alone, no one else there, just the two of us. Don’t take too long.

~ END DOCUMENT ~

CHAPTER ONE

Her kick slammed hard into the spar-droid’s face with a satisfying thunk.

Honor Brandall pulled back, bouncing on the balls of her feet, before attacking again. Her roundhouse kick sent the floating droid rocking wildly away.

She rubbed an arm across her sweaty face. She’d been training in the ship’s gym for the last two hours. She had a few new moves she’d picked up from reviewing some historical military documents from Darrus III, and she’d wanted to test them out.

Conclusion: difficult, but effective. She bounced on her toes again. If she adjusted a few things, like her posture and positioning, she might have more luck with them.

The gym doors whispered open, and a fellow member of the security team entered.

“Hey, Derek,” she called out.

“Agent Brandall.” The young man headed for the free weights.

“Want to spar?” she asked. “Best of three rounds?”

He quickly shook his head, his straight, dark hair flipping back and forth. “I like my body parts where they are, thanks.” With a smile, he held his hands up as though to ward her off, and then turned to the weights.

Honor raised a brow and shrugged. Most of the security staff groaned in protest when she was in charge of their training sessions. At just shy of six feet tall, and with the strength and combat training to go with it, she was used to people—men and women—shying away from her.

She slammed a fist into the middle of the spar-droid.

She refused to apologize for her strength or her dedication to her job.

The gym door opened again, and this time, the person who entered made Honor snap to attention.

“Relax, Brandall,” the tall, lean woman said.

Nera Darc was Honor’s new boss. Honor had transferred to the Galactic Institute of Historical Preservation ship, the Magellan, just over a month ago. They were still settling into each other’s work styles.

Honor took in Nera’s black uniform. The standard Institute uniform was black and gray, but she’d never seen Nera in it. The woman had short hair the color of platinum, multi-colored eyes, and a face that could have put all the latest supermodels in the central systems out of business.