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

by Gerry A. Saunders

  “But, how? All we'll do is to make them a gift of our exit path.”

  “True. But if we make three quick jumps, in a 10,000-kilometre triangle shape. Then we jump to Procyon. The temporal ripples and jump-distortion waves may just prevent the aliens from seeing us exit.”

  Frank had seen this manoeuvre once before, during the acceptance trials when Andromeda was brought into service. ‘It might work,’ he thought.

  Then, having made up his mind, ordered. “Use your mind-link to alert the crew, and then execute the jumps when you are ready.”

  There are few times in one's life when life and death become indistinguishable from each other. This was one of them.

  With pain searing through the body, ripping at the very fibre of existence. The sensation of being in many places at once, both inside and out of the ship, as temporal changes swirled and the mind staggered to follow.

  Although it was, only a second, it seemed like an eternity before normality returned, and the Andromeda was free.

  Chapter 10.

  Another Place.

  The Crillon race had been Masters of their sphere of space for centuries. They were an aggressive species, expanding their empire and taking over all inhabited planets wherever they found them. With the populations of the planets who vigorously opposed their rule being sterilized, and their planets being occupied later by the ‘Crillon' race itself.

  They had a fleet of battlecruisers, which were long; copper-colored, and cylindrical in shape. All of them were equipped with sophisticated armaments. Including the Crillon's devastating 'Antimatter' or Antimatter weapon, which was fired along a ‘tube’ that ran through the centre of the ship.

  Arans was tall, swarthy, and handsome for a Crillon flagship Commander. He watched as his latest 'conquest' rolled slowly in Space beneath his ship. He ran his hand over his shaven head, took a small container from his pocket, opened it and sniffed the contents.

  “That's better,” he said, sighing as he spoke.

  Arans yearned for a real battle, one which would pose a real threat to his Fleet. Not the small skirmishes that went on here, with the total devastation of whole planets achieved in just one Crillon day.

  A bleeper sounded on the communicator built into his epaulette. “Yes,” he voiced, touching the front of the device.

  “We've been asked to help Fleet Twelve in the search for a mystery ship in sector two.”

  “What happened?” He asked, scratching his head absentmindedly, a habit that had been formed over many years.

  “One of our ships has been destroyed, sir. That's all we know now.”

  “Very well, get the fleet ready to move out. Axon's ship will remain here for two cycles. Then it will follow us.”

  “Yes sir,” the officer replied and the communication ended.

  Arans still had six of the finest battlecruisers in the Crillon Empire under him. And, even though, they were going to the furthest point of their empire, he was well satisfied and eager to get going.

  Chapter 11.

  Just a Guess.

  Andromeda hung in space licking her wounds. Damage reports about equipment and structural problems throughout the ship were coming in fast, and automatic repair systems were working flat out, with some repairs being assisted by ship’s engineering and science crews.

  Frank was sat at his largest monitor, watching the service droids as they carried out their repair work. Then he was interrupted by Andromeda's voice in his mind.

  'Captain, I am unable to carry out any analysis. Some of my circuits were damaged during our exit.'

  Her voice seemed far away, as she continued, 'I estimate, um, I think that it will take two to three days for my backup system to make the repairs that I need.'

  “OK,” he replied. “We'll have to live with it. I want the science and theoretical analysis teams set up for a conference in ten minutes,” he paused.

  “Make sure the data from the four drones is uploaded to everyone's pads.”

  “It’s being done, Frank,” Andromeda replied.

  ‘You know Andromeda; you always phase me when you call me Captain instead of Frank without any reason.’

  Andromeda didn’t reply.

  Alan, standing behind Frank interjected, “Do you want me there, as well? I might be able to throw in a few ideas.”

  Frank had forgotten about Alan with everything going on. “Yes, that’ll be okay,” he replied.

  The conference started on time, with everyone present in person. There were seven in all.

  Ned Parker, from the Quantum Theoretical Engineering Department, was in his early forties and was stout with thinning grey hair. He was noted for his brilliant mind and ever-present grin and was well liked and respected.

  Tim Watson, in Astrophysics, was thirty-one years old and Slim with wavy blond hair. He looked nervous and out of place at the moment, but was a charming man. He wasn't married and possibly because of this, still had a sparkle in his eyes.

  Susanna James was from the Data Analysis section. She was thirty-five, single and had worked in the section for the last five years as a specialist.

  She was one of the only two females on board. She had short blond hair and was very attractive, and Frank knew that she was well liked by everyone.

  Alan was next. He sat on one side of Frank, and not a lot was known about him.

  Then Brian Waters, from the Encryption analysis section. He was tall and had a thin face and wavy black hair. He also had a very noticeable lack of front teeth; which, in this day and age was almost unheard of. Maybe he was too busy to key in a free implant. He was hard working, and serious when at work, but away from work was a happy go lucky sort.

  Last was Mark Trask, from the Weapon’s section. He was in his mid-fifties and was very stern looking, with greying hair. His demeanour giving him an air of importance. He was somewhat introverted but was nonetheless a much-respected specialist.

  Mark studied the rest discreetly, with his eyes ending up on Susanna. She blushed when she realized that Mark was staring at her.

  “Now that everyone's here, let us get on with it,” he said. Paused, then looked at Susanna.

  “We’ll start with the data we retrieved from the stealth drones, Susanna.”

  Susanna composed herself. Then began.

  “I'll start with stealth drone one. As you can see on your pads, the recording is fragmented. It was probably saturated with particles during our engagement,” she paused. Then went on. “SD2 is the same, but Brian's department may be able to get more out of its recording,” again she paused. “However, SD3 was fried I’m afraid. A direct hit.”

  She hesitated a little. “SD4 is an entirely different kettle of fish. It was dragged with us but came right for us as you can see from the data and the video feed. It’s, magnificent, “she added.

  She sounded authoritative, but he couldn’t help noticing her excitement. It was hard to hide, he thought, seeing the front of her shirt swell.

  Their screens lit up with the recorded data from SD4, causing a gasp as they displayed the enemy ship's build up to firing at Andromeda.

  A fireball swelled up at the rear of the Alien ship, then disappeared back into it. Then the energy bolt flashed out from the front, heading towards the Andromeda with an intense blue energy that disrupted the drone's sensors for a moment.

  Seconds later, the drone's sensors had recovered and were still looking at the rear of the enemy ship. A strange black patch was slowly dissipating where the fireball had started. It seemed to twinkle once, then was gone.

  “I find the ‘black patch’ most exciting,” noted Susanna. “The drone's databank shows it isn’t there. That there’s nothing and no background noise at all.”

  “The mere fact that no light or stars show,” Tim interjected. “Means it's either the beginnings of a black-hole or theoretically, and more exciting, a hole to another dimension.”

  “That would be like creating a ripple in space-time,” Alan remarked. “What does And
romeda think?”

  “She doesn’t, that’s what this meeting is for,” Frank replied. “Any other thoughts Tim?”

  “Not at the moment, sir. I need to study this more.”

  “Ned, how about you?”

  “The same sir. We need some time to theorize on what's happening here.”

  “OK, but time is the one thing we don't have. Do your best,” he added.

  “Mark! Have you been able to get any data on that weapon?”

  “Some. The aliens have created something close to what seems to be Antimatter,” he said. “That’s why the weapon is so destructive, and very dangerous for them as well.”

  “Go on,” prompted Frank.

  “Well, during our first encounter with the aliens. I thought that they must have been having a helluva time keeping it stable. The central tube must be a magnetic hell. But, I really need to study it more.”

  “OK, I think we'll stop there for now. Keep at it, and we'll have another meeting in twelve hours. That's all for now, thank you,” Frank finished.

  “Short and sweet,” Mark muttered, as they all got up to go.

  As they left, Frank watched Susanna closely. I haven’t seen her before. Why? He wondered.

  He punched her name on his tactical pad's private channel, bringing up her status. After a moment, her history was there.

  Susanna Bronti James. Encryption and data analysis specialist at the SpaceFed. She had spent five years at Data Analysis-University Two years as a professional sports masseur. His eyes blinked at that; then he read on. Thirty-five years old, born in England. Single. Parents died in a shuttle accident. She was the niece of Jack Medcalf, the Head of the Space Federation's UK branch.

  So, she's Jack's niece. He kept her quiet, he thought, at the same time feeling aroused by her. It was the first time he had felt this way for a while. But he ignored it and left, heading to his cabin.

  He lay in his cabin, thinking about the alien’s advanced weapons. Then his train of thought was interrupted by Andromeda.

  “If you don't mind my saying so, you seem to have feelings towards Susanna that you don't have for me. Why?”

  He thought for a moment. “You and I are linked as a fighting team. We need to be able to act as one in everything,” he paused, thinking how to say it. Andromeda wasn’t flesh, and what he needed now was a different sort of companion.

  “I understand Frank,” she said.

  He had forgotten to unlink. “I’m sorry,” he said. But Andromeda didn’t reply.

  “Captain,” continued Andromeda. “Some of my analysis functions are back, but not yet reliable enough.”

  “Don’t worry, we'll manage.”

  “I'm sure you will. I'll turn our mind-link off for now until something important comes up.”

  That wasn’t like Andromeda, he thought. Then went back to thinking about the alien problem. He started keying different action scenarios into his tactical pad. Just like playing computer games, but for real. He thought to himself.

  After many attempts and failures, the idea emerged in his mind. Just possible, but it was something. Perhaps the solution could be the black patch that appears at the back of the alien ship, just as it starts to build up the power to fire.

  If we can disrupt the generation of this patch. The instability caused throughout the centre of the ship could disintegrate it. Possibly solving our problem. A chance, yes. But a very slim one. Then again, we don't really know what it is yet?

  His annunciator panel bleeped, breaking his concentration.

  “Yes, who is it?” he called.

  “Hi, it’s Susanna, Susanna James.”

  Frank smiled, ordered the door to open, and in she stepped.

  “You sent for me Captain?”

  “No... Ah! One moment, please. Andromeda!” he called.

  “Yes, Frank.”

  “Is this your handiwork?”

  “Who. Me?” Andromeda asked, chuckling.

  “I'm sorry Susanna. I’m afraid she reads some things differently than we do.”

  “You've lost me, Captain. Am I missing something?”

  “No, I don't think so,” he replied, noticing that she was wearing the same clothes she had worn earlier.

  He looked surreptitiously at her and thought he could sense some interest, from her towards him.

  But out loud, said. “This is Andromeda getting the wrong idea of what I wanted. Or maybe not.”

  She blushed, realising what he might be thinking.

  “And?”

  “Well you,” he stopped himself. ‘This is not the time,’ he thought. ‘But wow, she really is something.’

  “I'm, well, really sorry you've had a wasted trip,” he said with a soft smile. “But I really need to get back to work,” he added. While thinking, before I'm tempted too far.

  “Oh, I'm not sure the trip was wasted,” she replied with a smile. Then turned, paused for the door to open, and left.

  After tapping more action scenarios into his tactical pad, Frank finally ran out of ideas and directed his thoughts to re-instate the link to Andromeda.

  ‘Any developments I should know about?’

  ‘No, Captain. I'll wake you if any should happen.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  After a few hours’ rest, he freshened himself up, ready for the continuing meeting. Five minutes later he was chairing the conference again.

  “Brian, have you uploaded everything new to our pads?”

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “Please Brian, first names will be acceptable here. Have you and Susanna deduced anything more from the alien's original transmission?”

  “Sorry, but it's a dead end, Frank,” he pushed his black hair back and went on. “On the original recording, the voice is crystal-clear. But there's nothing else. Our transmissions, usually, have heterodyne-noise or something in the background but, like the patch, there's nothing to work with. Nothing at all.”

  Frank thought a moment before going on. “So, both you and Susanna can add nothing else now?”

  “Correct,” said Susanna. “Both our data and encryption departments are desperately trying to find something to get our teeth into,” she finished.

  “OK, Tim. Has your astrophysics department anything to put a smile on our faces?”

  “Well,” Tim started. “We both now believe that the black patch is nothing more than the Thin-matter in space. Which is being sucked into the energy creation point,” he said, looking at Mark, the weapon’s specialist.

  “In fact, we all agree that trying to disrupt it would be impossible.”

  “Is that your view as well, Mark?”

  “Yes. I agree with him, Frank.”

  “Well, that's my theory disposed of. It was just a guess really, anyway.”

  “It’s not all bad, Frank,” Mark replied. “For example, they can't fire their primary weapon unless they can line their weapon on us, and line it up bow first. Then, even so, Andromeda's defences should still win.”

  “So, they can't direct the beam?”

  “No, the energy required for the magnetic fields to direct the beam would be so enormous that it would probably blow off half of the ship’s bow.”

  'Not too bad then, after all.' Frank thought.

  “Andromeda, are you up to speed yet?”

  “Almost, and faster than I expected Frank,” Andromeda answered. “However, I have some questions that I don't have any reference points for.”

  “Ask away.”

  “Mark. Why isn’t the beam steerable, if it even exists at all?”

  “I'm not sure what you mean?”

  “Well, if your assumptions are right, we're talking about steering Antimatter down a tube. Yes?”

  “Yes. Sequential fielding should work, but the timing would be absolutely critical.”

  “So, wouldn't a better answer be to shock the ship, at that critical moment when they are generating the Antimatter for the weapon?”

  “I guess so, but how would we
know when that was?”

  “Ask Susanna,” Andromeda suggested, a hint of frustration sounding in her voice.

  “What are you talking about?” Susanna queried.

  “The twinkle, as the dark patch dissolved.”

  Susanna studied her pad and saw. Of course, the twinkle. Then with the sudden realisation, she stood up, her shirt almost bursting open with her excitement.

  “I see what you mean. We can work out an algorithm that gives us the firing point in time, between the Antimatter weapon’s initial energy build-up and that twinkle.”

  “Do you know what the twinkle is Susanna?” Andromeda asked her. Already knowing she did.

  “It's local-matter rushing in to fill the hole.”

  “So, you and Brian have new data to work on. Yes?”

  “Indeed.”

  “So, you’re right. It isn’t all bad,” Alan said. Everyone looked at Alan and smiled.

  “What?”

  “We always thought of you as a pessimist Alan,” Frank remarked. “Perhaps you're not really, after all.”

  “That’s unfair,” Alan muttered, feeling picked on.

  “Captain, what do you want to do now?” asked Andromeda.

  “We'll stay here for another day, then we must leave. Susanna, please let me know when you and Brian have a result.”

  “Will do Frank.”

  Susanna was the last to leave.

  The time’s right, he thought as she turned to face him from the open door, then winked at him and left.

  Chapter 12.

  A moment of heaven.

  By the middle of the second day, all the repair work on the Andromeda had been completed. With some of the ship's force field emitters, being replaced by an improved version developed by Mark Trask's weapon’s division.

  “Andromeda, what's our status?” Frank asked.

  “I'm ready. But the algorithm that Brian and Susanna are working on has been modified again after the last test run.”