The Definitive SpaceFed Trilogy (SpaceFed StarShips Trilogy).: A thrilling, action-packed Sci-fi space adventure. (SpaceFed StarShips Series Book 8)

by Gerry A. Saunders

  Within the Marines quarters, the area was partly open-plan, with each man merely allotted a bed and locker, and use of the separate showers and toilets. The food dispensing and dining area were off to one side.

  On the other were the captain’s cabin and private shower room. Together with another sector that was designated for operational planning, and meetings.

  Frank pressed the annunciator panel on the marine’s main access door. He had expected a slight smell from the recycling plant as he entered the area, but there was none.

  “Captain Richardson,” he announced.

  After a moment, the door opened and he saw a nervous marine standing there, wearing a work suit.

  “Captain. What can we do for you, sir?”

  “You could let me in, that would be a good start.”

  “Err, sorry sir. Only, it’s not often that we see a Captain visiting Marines’ quarters.”

  “We’ll, you’ll have to get used to it. This Captain does,” Frank replied as he followed the marine in.

  Just inside were two more marines, both dressed in their body armour, with their hand weapons nearby.

  Then he saw another Marine, who was also wearing a work suit, and coming towards him.

  “I’m Captain Stewart, sir. How can I help you?”

  “Good to meet you again, Captain. Well, I had hoped everyone would attend our little get-together. But, I understand that Marines prefer to stay in the background, not mixing socially with the rest of the crew. Is that correct?”

  “Absolutely sir. No chance of compromising missions this way.”

  “Isn’t it better to get to know the crew members, Captain?

  “In one way, yes. But we need to be focused on security. And, as there are only four of us, we have to work to a strict rota that doesn’t leave much time to fraternize with anyone else.”

  “Then, I’ll respect your wishes. So how are you coping with the transceiver implants? It’s a strange feeling at first, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” he replied grinning. “Very nerve racking at first. But we’ve all got the hang of them now.”

  “Good. Is there anything else you need?” Frank asked.

  “I only mean things that are possible to get,” Frank jokingly added.

  “Well, we could really do with extra protein, sir. It’s much harder to maintain our fitness levels in space.”

  “One moment,” Frank said, then directed his thoughts to Andromeda.

  ‘You heard. What can we provide?’

  The food synthesizer then beeped, and one of the Marines, in body armour, moved over to check what was going on and grinned as he saw an additional icon flashing on the menu.

  He turned around and said. “Great, now we can have steak, sir.”

  “Thanks, Captain. I know we’re limited on board, but this will definitely help us,” Captain Stewart added.

  “You’re welcome Captain. I’ll leave you to get on with whatever you do to keep fit and kill time.”

  “Mostly exercise, and training, Captain,” he replied as he accompanied Frank to the door. Then opened it and stepped out into the corridor along with Frank.

  “Captain, thanks for taking the time to come and see us.”

  “My pleasure Captain,” he replied as they shook hands.

  With that, Frank headed off down the corridor to his own cabin.

  Chapter 5.

  Exit.

  Frank could see no physical change of the wormhole displayed on his primary tactical screen.

  But, suddenly, his stomach felt as if it had shot out through the front of the Andromeda as she dropped out of warp space, into normal space.

  Thankfully, although it was only a sensation, he felt his stomach quickly return to him.

  Translation from warp space had occurred at seventeen hundred hours, ships time, at a place three-point-one-six light-years from Earth.

  Captain Frank Richardson was very pleased to see Normal-space again. Being in transit had been boring, with nothing much to do. Relaxing wasn’t exactly his forte either.

  He waited a few seconds while his tactical screens, rapidly updated, showing the vast area of space around Andromeda, and her status.

  Staring at the stars that he could see around them now, he could just recognize the constellations as seen from Earth. Even though everything seemed distorted and out of place.

  Procyon hung to one side of the Andromeda and was much larger than when seen from the ship almost eleven days before. When Andromeda had first arrived in orbit after completing her acceptance trials near the Mars space docks.

  Frank sensed Alan enter the control room.

  “It’s a beautiful sight, Frank,” Alan exclaimed, now standing close by. “This is one trip I wouldn’t have missed for anything.”

  “Don’t be so sure. We don’t know what happened to the Hawk.”

  “Captain,” interjected the computer. “My search results are negative. There is no ‘atomic-pattern’ in this sector that matches the Hawk's profile.”

  “Very well,” said Frank. “Activate your warp initiation sequence and advance to warp.”

  The StarShip Andromeda7 was now nine light-years out from the planet Earth and travelling in Normal-space.

  “Captain,” the computer called. “The Hawk is within two hundred thousand metres from us. What are your orders?”

  “Show me.”

  The screen's image of space dissolved, replaced by the picture of the Hawk hanging large and majestic before them. The image kept in focus by the ship’s powerful televiewer.

  “H’m, I wonder. Step up the magnification,” he ordered.

  The image of the older starship expanded swiftly before them until the Hawk's forward and aft almost touched the screen's edges.

  The Hawk was long, with tapering ends. Somewhat like the Andromeda, but its aft section contained six ‘blisters’ that were attached to the outside. With each blister terminating in an highly-polished dish, facing the rear. These dishes, were the sub-light photon-drive units, with each producing a high-density stream of photons.

  “Have you determined if any human life exists, and what damage if any, has been caused to the ship?”

  “There is no human life,” the computer informed him. “Damage has occurred to the far side.”

  “Show me.”

  “I can’t unless we move to the other side of the ship.”

  “Project it, then,” Frank snapped, angry at the computer’s uncooperative manner.

  The screen went blank. Then, after a brief pause began to build a picture up again, like negatives being placed one on top of the other.

  “Wow,” Alan exclaimed. “Look at that hole, see? On its edge, can you see the carbon, tungsten and cobalt, all making up a crystalline formation around it?”

  “Yes, it looks as though part of the ship’s been melted away. Whatever happened to make this, caused the edge of the hole to become molten,” Frank added.

  “Andromeda. Increase your velocity to take us closer. Then park facing the hole.”

  “Underway, Captain.”

  “Okay. In the meantime, prepare an analysis of the cause of the hole,” Frank ordered. While idly wondering whether, if he gave an order that the computer felt was disastrous to the ship, it would obey it. ‘Probably not,’ he thought.

  The scene changed to show the blackness of space with the occasional star scattered here and there.

  At last, the Hawk was close enough to be seen. Looking like, a faint but elongated dot that grew larger with every passing second.

  “Captain, we may be in grave danger,” Andromeda burst out, with a significant anxiety sounding in her voice.

  “I’ll worry about that. Give me your report,” Frank growled. “I think your feelings are getting the better of you,” he added.

  There was a short pause, them Andromeda began.

  “The damage was probably caused by the bombardment of a high-energy particle beam. Or, possibly, an Antimatter weapon.


  Death to the crew would have been instantaneous due to the resultant dispersion of the power within the ship. The ship is damaged beyond repair.

  However, we may learn the Hawk’s assailant from her log-room. Whatever, or whoever it was, was certainly intelligent.”

  “Could our force field stop such an energy bolt?” Alan asked.

  The computer stayed silent.

  “Well, could it?” Frank asked, sounding irritated.

  “I’m not sure; I don't have enough data on the assailant’s energy. But it’s possible that the bolt could penetrate my screens, Captain.”

  “Well, that’s a chance we'll have to take. As soon as we're close enough extend your force field to cover both ships.”

  Chapter 6.

  The Hawk.

  The Andromeda7, now only three kilometres from the Hawk, turned slowly and silently towards the side of the ship that was damaged.

  Within minutes, all eyes rested on the bleak and derelict tomb of the sixty crew members, fellow men, whose only crime was to venture into space.

  “Give me broadcast,” Frank ordered, as the ship came to a halt a quarter of a kilometre from the Hawk.

  “Men, this is your Captain speaking. We’ve come a long way together to find our comrades and this we have done,” he said, pausing. Then continued. “Gentlemen, join with me in a moment’s silence for the departed, and may their souls rest in peace.”

  With the passing of the allotted time, he then said. “Jackson, Smith, Conway and Peters, please be at number three airlock in five minutes, with your side arms. That’s all.”

  “Are you going out there, Frank?”

  “Yes, and so are you Alan.”

  “What about the ship?”

  “Wherever I am. The computer is also,” Frank replied and paused.

  “You've got a transceiver implant, haven't you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, let’s go!”

  The six men stood on their own field-generator platforms in the holding bay and gave the order 'Suit Activate.’ Immediately, spherically shaped force field ‘suits’ formed around each of them and their platform.

  The force-suits were nothing like the Force craft also held by the Andromeda. They were controlled by the Andromeda while operating in space but could only be used within three kilometres of the ship.

  When they were on a planet, the Force crafts would be a link between the force-suits and the Andromeda.

  The men had manoeuvrability when wearing their force-suits, by just tilting their head in the direction they wished to go. The suits also gave them full protection when in space, and in an alien environment, with any pollutants being filtered out. There was also built-in protection against all known small arms weapons, making the force-suits a very safe environment.

  A real plus in the suit’s design was the ability to reduce the ‘density’ of its field to a localized area. Allowing the user to put their hand ‘through’ the force field, to pick up, check, or even to operate things, when needed. Then, to store any items they had collected in a small 'specimen' container built into the platform.

  The suit’s field-reduction facility was voice-activated, with the proximity of the user's hand indicating the target area. After use, the field-strength quickly returned to standard for the safety of the operator.

  The six men set off towards the Hawk, and stopped, facing the gigantic hole, then surveyed it from within the security of their force-suits.

  “Jackson and Peters check the drive units,” Frank ordered. “The converters may be of use to us.”

  There was a slight pause as the computer received the order and re-transmitted it back to those concerned. Then both men nodded and drifted off in the direction of the tail units.

  “We can't get inside Frank,” Alan said. “Everything’s fused together in there.”

  “Okay. We’ll move up to the forward airlock then.”

  The men, enclosed in their four yellowish-looking force-suits, moved slowly forward along the immense, seamless bulk of the Hawk and at last reached the airlock set flush with the hull. Conway put his hand close to what looked like a flap beside the airlock door.

  “Reduce force field,” he ordered.

  The force-suit's field strength level is reduced in the area around Conway's hand. As he moved his hand to lift the flap, the field shimmered as it sealed his hand from exposure to space. His hand, now sealed inside the field, lifted the flap and tried the manual controls.

  “It’s no good Captain,” he reported. “The door’s not responding.” Conway pulled his hand away from the door flap, and his suit's field-strength automatically returned to normal.

  “Andromeda, we need entry codes. Can you get them?” Frank asked.

  “One moment, please, Captain,” came the computer’s voice, transmitted along the invisible voice-link. Within ten seconds, the airlock door swung inwards as it received the embedded code from the Andromeda.

  “Thanks,” Frank acknowledged.

  He moved into the airlock with the other three. All of them in their force-suits. Then paused at the inner door until it had opened. Once through this, they found themselves in the central corridor that ran the length of the ship. To the left were the armoury and computer rooms and to the right, the control, and log rooms.

  Not a single trace of air remained aboard.

  “Conway, you and Smith, check the armoury and computer rooms,” he ordered. “Let me know if there is anything of value.”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  By the time, Conway and Smith reached the computer room, Frank and Alan were in the control room.

  Three men ‘stood’ in the room, held safely to the floor by their magnetic boots. Clean shaven and smartly dressed; they looked almost alive, except for the tell-tale dark patches under the skin that were caused by burst blood vessels.

  “Poor Devils didn’t stand a chance,” Alan croaked.

  “I know,” Frank snapped. “Someone’s going to pay heavily for this.”

  “At least they died instantly. Killed by the loss of oxygen and preserved by the cold,” Alan replied.

  “Captain,” Andromeda said. “There’s nothing else to be found in this place. May we, please go to the log room?”

  “I’ll decide where to go. Anyway, you know we're about to go there,” Frank snapped.

  Two more bodies were found in the chart room. Both men had died with a look of terror on their faces.

  A language decoder was on the table and had undoubtedly been in use at the time of the ship's destruction. Strips of DSC’s or digital-storage-crystals littered the room, some of which seemed to be stacked and waiting to be fed into the vessel’s computer.

  “The whole ship’s beginning to look like something out of a nightmare,” Frank muttered.

  “Captain,” Jackson’s voice called, from outside. “The drive-units are no good, and there’s something else out here.”

  “What is it, Jackson?”

  “I don’t know sir,” exclaimed the other. “But it’s a sphere about forty centimetres in diameter, greenish in color.”

  “All right, stay there. We’re coming out,” Frank replied.

  “Andromeda, probe it and see what you can find out. No, wait! Let me ‘feel’ with you,” he ordered.

  Frank’s mind became aware of movement as the computer’s senses probed the object. He felt a strange pulling sensation, a flash, a feeling of bewilderment, and then almost loss of balance as the computer suddenly withdrew.

  “Don’t touch it,” the computer voiced. “I think it’s some kind of homing beacon with a trigger.”

  As Frank and Alan reached the airlock, Andromeda called, “Captain, Jackson’s going to feel the object.”

  “Jackson!” Frank shouted, “You heard. Don’t touch it!”

  “I must,” Jackson replied, then silence.

  Once outside the Hawk, Frank could see the tiny yellow sphere that enclosed Jackson. Close by, a greenish speck of light floated.
>
  Some distance away, Peters was moving towards his comrade from the direction of the drive-units.

  Frank saw Jackson and the speck merge together. A cry of pain came from Jackson, and the two specks parted.

  “It's transmitting Captain,” yelled the computer. “Quickly, what are your orders?”

  “Destroy it!”

  Instantly a spark erupted from the Andromeda and streaked towards the green sphere, which dissolved in a fury of pure energy.

  Nothing remained, but a grey looking patch that quickly dispersed into the void.

  “Jackson,” Frank angrily shouted. “Are you all right?”

  “Peters here sir, he doesn’t seem to be in control of his bubble.”

  “Andromeda, what do you know?”

  “Jackson is dead. He was electrocuted.”

  “Withdraw your contact from him. Find out all you can about the last moments of the object, and notify me as soon as you have anything positive.”

  “What about Jackson?” Alan asked.

  “We’ll leave him on board, and disintegrate him along with the Hawk,” he replied. “But first, we must find out what happened in the last few days of the ship, and fast.”

  “You think the tapes hold the answer?”

  “I do. That ‘thing’ started transmitting. Which, probably means we could have visitors before we’re ready.

  Peters join us.

  Andromeda, I want a Force craft at this airlock now.”

  Then, turning to Alan, he said, “Come on let’s get back to the log room, there’s nothing for us out here.”

  They re-entered the Hawk's airlock in their force-suits, with the automatic airlock door closing after them.

  Conway and Smith met them as they 'floated' out into the corridor in their suits.