Ashlyn Chronicles 1: 2287 A.D.

by Glenn Van Dyke

  Her tone changed to one of sadness. “I am also aware of the personal hurdles that you face upon your return as regards to Renee and your family, and that you are in desperate need of a solution. I want you to know that you do not bear this burden alone. You have my full support on any decision that you make. It will always be so.”

  Concluding, she said, “Until we meet again—sweet dreams.” As Ashlyn’s image dissipated, her sensual smile stole his breath.

  ***

  As the wave subsided, Avenger was left dark and serenely quiet. His heart thumped out of his chest, and the sound of it seemed to fill the entire bridge. Though Ashlyn’s image was gone, he held the visualization of her firmly in his mind. He did not completely understand how she was able to speak with him, but he now knew that the dreams were much more than he had thought them to be.

  The bridge suddenly lit up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve, chimes and klaxons sounding everywhere. Nearly every instrument panel returned to life flashing a "System is Off-Line” alert.

  Chief Preston entered through the bridge doors. “Sorry for the scare, Admiral. Our shields were collapsing, so I turned off most of the ship’s internal systems and routed the power to the shields.”

  “Well, it did the job. Good work, Chief!”

  “Actually, it wasn’t enough, sir. Not nearly.”

  “I’m not following you,” said Steven.

  “There was a massive energy surge that encompassed the whole ship. It only lasted a minute or so, but somehow, it reinforced the shields. It flat lined after the wave passed. It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever seen!”

  “Where did the surge come from?”

  “I have a team looking into it, Admiral. I’ll keep you informed.”

  “Do what you can to track it down, Chief. Or I just might send you to bed without dinner tonight.”

  “Wouldn’t want that. The galley is serving fish sticks tonight!” said Chief Preston with the exaggerated laugh of a man who had expected to die.

  “The galley serves fish sticks every night!” said Steven as he came to realize in this moment of lightheartedness that it had been far too long since he had laughed.

  “All stations, status report,” ordered Steven.

  “Damage Control is doing a micro-fracture scan of the entire hull. Estimated time until completion is approximately six hours,” said Jenkins.

  “Long range scans are all clear, sir,” reported the radar operator. “The flagship is either gone or hidden behind the sun.”

  The report from Mr. O’Brien came next. “Shields are down. Energy reserves are steady at .08 percent. Life support is non-operational until we have accumulated a 4 percent reserve. Most decks are dark. I recommend deploying the solar collectors until we can re-engage the Bussard scoop. With life support down, it is going to get mighty chilly in here. Gena’s calculations show that a stationary orbit about the sun at 14.3 million kilometers distance will negate the cold and give us maximum input to the fuel cells. We’ll need twelve hours to recharge the mains and an additional two for the reserves.”

  “Very good,” said Steven. “Helm, follow Mr. O’Brien’s instructions and be sure to keep the sun between us and the flagship’s last known position. Jenkins, how did we do with the radiation?”

  “That’s the strange part, sir,” responded Jenkins. “The numbers don’t make sense. Outside, we are glowing like the aurora borealis, but inside, there is almost nothing. I think it’s because of the energy surge that Chief Preston was talking about. Somehow, it repelled the radiation. It’s really a stroke of luck that we’re alive.”

  “Sometimes, luck is all we have,” responded Steven. “Start the external scrubbers when they come back on-line.”

  Avenger’s med team entered onto the bridge, checking everyone out.

  “How’s the crew?” Steven asked the nurse nearest him.

  “No casualties. A few broken ribs from the containment fields. A broken arm or two, one concussion. Not bad, considering. Are you all right, sir?” the nurse asked with genuine concern. “You’re really flushed.”

  “I’m fine. A bit tired. Nothing a little sleep won’t fix.” Steven wiped away a layer of beaded sweat from his brow with the sleeve of his uniform. In truth, he felt ready to collapse.

  The bridge doors opened as Brooks and Casey returned. Steven spun his chair around. “Cut it kind of close, didn't you?”

  “Actually, we didn't know if it was going to work at all. That trick of yours to disable Gena’s safety-protocols took us a bit off-guard. Even the Chief didn't know about that one,” said Brooks with a heavy plop into his seat.

  “Neither did I," said Steven in reply. "I just hoped Gena would obey an executive command, even if it did go counter to her programing.”

  Brooks’ mouth stretched into a broad grin. “So, what are we doing about the flagship?”

  “There isn’t much we can do until we recharge. My guess is that she’s dead. Nevertheless, I doubt she was able to escape the effects of the energy field dampening mines attached to her hull and still have the energy to formulate a jump. But if she did, tomorrow, when we’re up to full power, I’ll chase her all the way into Hell if I have to!”

  “Do you think Enlil is aboard the flagship?”

  “I don’t think so. The strategy they used was sound. They held back and let the fleet approach. But, I think Enlil is too arrogant to have held back. First, he had no reason to believe that anyone was alive. Next, he thinks we are too inferior to be a threat. So, no. I don’t think so. It was more the actions of a commander following protocol.”

  “Sir?” Mr. O’Brien stood before Steven looking as bewildered as a lost cat. “Sir, when we took the shields off-line, how did you know with such certainty that we weren’t going to have a hull breach?”

  A grin lit Steven’s face. “I didn’t! I’m just a lucky liar!”

  ***

  Sitting at the black-lacquer desk in his cabin, Steven leaned back and closed his eyes. “Computer, open log. New entry: Day 290, 2288, 0800 hours. Six hours ago, we found the flagship adrift behind the sun. After stabilizing its rotation, the remote cams we sent aboard her have verified that her crew is dead. To say that we were lucky is an understatement. When the fleet had jumped in-system, we caught the flagship off-guard. Sneaking out of the sun’s chromosphere, we came up from behind her. As we had strategized, the magnetic energy field dampening mines had drained all of the ship’s power, stopping her from formulating a jump. With her shields down, Avenger’s cannons unleashed a hailstorm of armor-piercing micro needles, each carrying a tiny cylinder of Neuron gas. Her crew never knew what was killing them. The vessel’s last offensive move was launching the doomsday missile toward Earth, which was shot down by Ashlyn Parker, a pilot assigned to the groundside laser detail.”

  Steven paused briefly as he thought of Ashlyn.

  “Now that we have the enemy flagship in our possession, I can’t remember when I’ve seen the crew’s morale so high. Never have they been more boisterous. The chief has reported that it will take four to six weeks to repair the damage done to the enemy vessel before she’ll be fit for duty. To top it all off, just minutes ago, we received perhaps the best news of all. When Gena networked with the flagship’s computer, she instantly began translating and rewriting all of the ship’s programs into English. The ease of translation was something we had not anticipated, but as life so often dictates, with every rising of the sun a few clouds are set adrift.

  “We discovered that even though the outward appearance of the flagship bears no resemblance to that of our own vessel, her tactical and operational systems are almost identical to Avenger’s, albeit on a much larger scale. However, since I’m not a believer in coincidence, I’ve assigned a team to search for an explanation to the anomaly.” Steven yawned. “Computer, end log.”

  Seeing the golden-framed picture of Renee on the floor beside the desk, he bent over to pick it up. Holding it in his hands, he stared at the blue eyes th
at had captured his heart sixteen years before. His lips melted into a narrow smile.

  Thinking of Renee, he admired her. Renee was soft, feminine, and yet, openly brash. She challenged authority when she believed her cause was just, and never would she ask anyone to do something that she would not willingly do herself.

  The picture brought him back to the day when, as a senior cadet just before graduation, he and six friends had gone to Paris on a five-day leave. It was on that trip that they acknowledged their unspoken feelings and confessed their love. “Eiffel,” said Steven. The tri-dimensional picture of Renee came to life, showing her standing at the railing of the Eiffel Tower, looking as beautiful and sexy as ever. Her long auburn hair fluttered weightlessly in the breeze. Her face was delicately narrow, her neck slender. The red and white checkered, Italian peasant dress she wore accentuating her womanly figure. As if it were a beacon of his desire, a ray of sunlight bathed her round cleavage.

  Bursting with excitement, knowing that it was Steven’s first trip to France, she pointed to the Seine below. Her spirit was infectious, and he felt the exuberance of a child seeing Disneyland for the first time.

  Smiling, Ren then turned toward the camera, gave her all-consuming gaze and smile, and did a twirl for him in her dress.

  “Eiffel, freeze.” Steven grinned in response to his good timing. He always tried to stop her twirl at that particular moment. For amidst her twirl, a gust of wind had caught her dress and lifted it, revealing her long legs and pantyless bottom. The view was a memorable tease. Among friends, it had been an ongoing joke between them. Steven claimed she had done it on purpose—Renee with a violent blush had said she had forgotten to pack her panties.

  It was hard for Steven to believe that so many years had passed. It seemed like only yesterday that they had married. Yet, through it all they had endured. She had been his support, his fortress of solitude. As Steven became lost to his memories, he knew that she was a woman worthy of a king’s ransom, and yet all she had ever asked for was his heart.

  Just hours before, having lifted the communications blackout, he had spoken to Renee. It wasn’t much of a surprise that Renee wanted to discuss Ashlyn. Renee told him the story of the missile that Ashlyn had destroyed and her suited free fall from space into the ocean. She also stated that the two of them had become good friends over the last months.

  It worried him that he might soon have to be in the same room with the two of them at the same time. He didn’t trust himself to act rationally. His every thought of Ashlyn intoxicated him.

  After nearly two full days without sleep, Steven should have been anxious to get some rest, but as he stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes, his only thoughts were of Ashlyn, knowing she was about to come to him.

  Chapter 7

  With the destruction of Enlil’s fleet, the element of surprise now on his side, Steven ordered that Avenger be ready to set sail for the Sirius system in thirty-six hours. As the crew prepped and restocked Avenger for the extended journey, Steven took a shuttle groundside to see his family.

  Walking the corridors at Sea Base, he contemplated what lay ahead. His heart raced in anticipation of this moment, picturing how he would sweep Renee into his arms and kiss her madly while the kids tugged at his uniform. After all the weeks away, it felt good to be home again.

  As the door to his cabin slid aside, he found Renee in the living room, asleep on the sofa. Steven gave a quiet smile, for it was obvious that she had tried to wait up for him. Clutched loosely in her left hand was her antique Harry Potter novel, her finger still marking the spot where she had stopped reading.

  Seating himself in the chair across from her, Steven studied the graceful sweeping lines of her body. She lay still, only the provocative points of her nipples moving beneath the pearly-white silk of her negligee. They rose and fell with each tender breath. The mere memory of her touch quickened his pulse and started his blood pumping.

  Renee’s fair complexion and auburn hair made a fitting backdrop for her. As he contemplated waking her, Renee shifted her positon, turning slightly toward him. A slit in her negligee that ran down its length slowly opened, sliding away from her towards the floor. A shapely, squared calf gave way to soft, trim thighs. The slide of the negligee stopped just as it began to reveal a tiny hint of fine hair covering the rise of her mound. His groin tightened, his mouth watering as his tongue feigned a stab, recalling times past.

  He remembered the night when he had made his big announcement to Renee about his commission to take command of a new Class 9 ship and the almost completed Challenger Deep Sea Base. That evening Steven had taken Renee out for a candlelight dinner at Poseidon’s Sea Food Grotto. The restaurant was a retired Class 3 Nautilus submarine that some enterprising entrepreneur had turned into a luxurious, Five Star tourist trap. Submerged up to the base of its conning tower, it sat on a brilliantly lit coral reef in Hanauma Bay, east of Honolulu.

  Having made reservations for the private admiral’s quarters, Steven played the occasion for all it was worth. After they’d enjoyed a bottle of Pierre Gimonnet and Fils and eaten a light but fancy lobster dinner, the waiter returned, presenting Renee with a covered, silver-platter of what she expected to be her favorite dessert; strawberries, deep-fried bananas, and ice cream.

  Instead, when he lifted the lid, she was surprised to see a decorative oyster shell with a starfish shaped napkin atop it. On the tip of the napkin lay a diamond solitaire engagement ring.

  Kneeling on the floor next to Renee, he gently took the ring and placed it on her finger. Renee looked up, and with tears in her eyes that sparkled like the diamond in the ring, she softly whispered, “Yes.” She then picked up the napkin, looked Steven square in the face and threw it at him. “You could have at least said the words, you big lug!”

  Her eyes suddenly lit up with understanding. “They gave you your own Sub Command! That’s why you picked this place!”

  Steven nodded yes and then shook his head no. “Well, sort of. She’s a bit more than a sub. She’s a Class 9 Nautilus—the first of her kind,” he said. “She’s not quite finished, but they want me to oversee the final stages of her construction. Her name is Columbus.”

  “Columbus? An exploration vessel? Space exploration?” said Renee, incredulously, putting the pieces together.

  Steven nodded. “You’re too smart for your own good.”

  Renee threw her arms around his neck.

  “President Tomlinson said that when she’s ready next month, he’ll be there to inaugurate her personally. He handpicked me to command her. In the meantime, we will be stationed at a base nearby. I’ll tell you more once we are en route. I am under orders not to share the location details until after we have set sail. And—,”

  “And—,” Ren repeated with a sly gleam in her eyes.

  “I picked you to be one of my officers!” added Steven.

  “I see. And what if I would’ve said no to marrying you?” she playfully queried as she glanced at the ring.

  “Then I would’ve ordered you to marry me!”

  “Sooo, Captain? Every time you want your way, you’re just going to make it an official order?”

  “Absolutely! Admiral’s privilege,” said Steven as he began to unbutton her blouse.

  “Admiral? They promoted you to Admiral?”

  Steven nodded.

  “Wow! Sooo—what is my assigned position to be, sir?”

  “Hmm, how about we start on the table. Then the chair, then—”

  “That’s not what I meant,” she said, poking him in the tummy.

  He unhooked her bra and dropped it on the floor. “Oh, you mean your assigned post?” Steven chuckled. “You’ll head up the Naval Science Department. You will have a full team under you—and you can go into your specialty, Biochemistry. That is what you’d always wanted, right?”

  He was happier for her than he was for himself. From the first day they had met four years ago, she had wanted to be a Biochemist, studying the chemic
al composition of living organisms on a molecular level. It had been her dream.

  Excited beyond words, she threw her arms around his neck. Her momentum forced him back against the wall.

  “Congratulations, Captain,” said Steven.

  “Captain?” said Renee, taken aback.

  “It comes with the job description.”

  She gave him a rib-breaking hug. “And what are your orders for me now, sir?” asked Ren as she unzipped his pants and grabbed him.

  “It seems you have a firm grasp on the situation, Captain! I defer to your judgment on how to solve the problem,” said Steven.

  “It’s a mighty big problem! I might need to work on this one all night!” said Ren as she knelt before him. “By the way, I never did get dessert. I hope it’s still coming?” she said sensually.

  “It will be in a moment!”

  Seconds passed. “Ouch. You bit me,” said Steven looking down at her.

  “Just reminding you who’s really in charge, Admiral.”

  ***

  A soft tremor, an after-effect of the gravitational changes from the destroyed Moon, roused Renee. For Steven, the timing was impeccable. Seeing Steven seated in the swivel chair across from her, she rose and crossed the room to him. Standing sensually before him, she unfastened the thin string tie about her waist. The white negligee fell open and like liquid slid off her shoulders to the floor.

  “You have no idea how badly I’ve missed you. By the way,” she added, “happy fortieth birthday, Admiral. Prepare to be boarded.”

  ***

  Morning had come all too soon for such a sleepless night, but what a night it was.