Space Fleet Sagas Foundation Trilogy: Books One, Two, and Three in the Space Fleet Sagas

by Don Foxe

  “Captain Cooper?” the coms officer’s voice came over the cabin speaker.

  “Yes.”

  “Captain Poonch requests your presence on the command bridge, sir. The Zenge are moving.”

  Moving which way, Cooper wondered. Then said, “Sky, you stay here. Take a shower, even though it is cold. You have a lot of grit on you from those access tunnels. Storm, you come with me. And Sky, after the shower go to bed. You’re exhausted, and no good to anyone without rest.”

  Sky did not try to object, nodding her head in agreement.

  Storm and Coop left for the command bridge. No point in wondering aloud about what was happening, they walked in silence.

  Poonch stood before the video wall, hands clasped behind his back. He looked over his shoulder to note the arrival of Coop and Storm, then returned to the screen. Even with the super HD optics, there was little to see. Just dots on a black screen.

  He brought the two up to date while continuing to watch the screen. “They are making way straight at our current position. I have no doubt their scans located us. We were wrong about the number of ships. There are eleven. We have been tracking them for an hour in to determine speed. There are three out front moving at 80,000 mph. Three more of similar size following at about 76,000 mph. Two more at 75,000 mph, and these two are different in shape, but too far away to determine exact types. An immense one at 73,000 mph, and two much more smaller ships at the rear, traveling at 40,000 mph.”

  “We estimate the first three Zenge ships will catch us in three days, twenty-two hours, and fifteen-minutes, if we restart engines and leave now. If we remain in drift, the time before they reach us is cut in half.”

  The Star Gazer’s captain turned to face Coop and Storm; speaking to them as equals. “Recommendations?”

  “Start engines and run,” Coop said without hesitation. “If we can stay ahead for another four days, there is a chance the 109 will arrive before the Zenge ships catch us. We need to give my people as much time as possible.”

  “Agreed,” Storm said.

  “Agreed,” Captain Poonch echoed. “I will make a ship-wide announcement. Those on board need to know the Zenge have begun pursuit. They must also know we will not allow anarchy, or displays of illegal behavior. This ship does not have ship-to-ship weapons, but we do have an armory with hand-held, and shoulder fired lasers. I will assign fifty people, and have them ready to move immediately to any deck which signals an alarm.”

  “Do you expect that kind of trouble, Captain, “ Storm asked.

  “No, not actually. All of the races from Osperantue are peaceful by nature, but I did not expect a rape to occur on my ship either. This time I will be prepared.”

  Turning to his right, he addressed the crew member at the first station. “Restart engines, and full speed to the nearest planet. Neptune, Captain Cooper called it. Maintain non-essential systems at minimal output. Store as much energy as we can. I want to supplement the dynamo, and the forcefield with as much power as possible when the time comes.” Turning to Cooper: “Any other suggestions?”

  “Not a suggestion, but an operational imperative,” Cooper responded. “We need more information on those ships. As enhanced as Storm and Sky made your systems, we will not know what we face for another day or two. I would prefer to have more time for planning.

  “I’m going to take Angel 7 out, shadow the Zenge ships, and gather as much intel as I can. I need about five hours of sleep. Let’s say I plan on departing in six hours. Can you have Commander Cornitsch clear the bay in four hours? Plan on depressurization and open hangar doors in six?”

  “Do you think that wise?” Pooch asked. “If they see you it could go badly. As of this moment, the Zenge have no idea we are anything but a cruise ship running away. Why give them a sign another world may be involved?”

  “They won’t see me,” Coop assured him. “Angel 7 is designed for stealth. Unless they have extremely superior scanning systems, she’ll go undetected. Besides, I don’t have to get too close. Only near enough to get the intel and fold back to you.”

  “I will inform Commander Cornitsch of the time-table,” Poonch replied. “You should go and rest, Captain.” The Bosine surprised Coop with a well executed salute. Despite the fact neither wore lids, Cooper returned the salute smartly, with an “Aye-Aye, Skipper,” further confusing the Bosine with human protocols.

  Returning to the cabin, Cooper gave Storm the marching orders for the coming hours.

  “Sky will come with me on Angel 7. She will handle the scans, and help me identify ships, weapons, and anything else we find. You will take control of Coms on the bridge and monitor the Zenge. Stay in touch with us on Angel 7. Watch for the return of the PT-109. If anything unexpected happens, I will get as much intel to you as possible. You may need to break it down, and make it available to Space Fleet.” Cooper waited for an objection. She said nothing to contradict his plan.

  “Questions?”

  “Just one . . . what’s intel?”

  Chapter 26

  Coop sat in the pilot’s seat and Sky in the co-pilot’s. He keyed his mike, and called, “Star Gazer.”

  “Star Gazer, copy,” came the reply from Storm, who had taken the Coms chair on the command bridge, per agreement with Captain Poonch.

  “Commander Cornitsch, do you copy?” Cooper asked.

  “Cornitsch copies,” the Commander replied. “The hangar has been cleared. Depressurization begins in one minute. You can unclamp, then move to the main ramp access doors on my command,” he told the pilot.

  “On your command,” Coop replied. “Storm, has anything changed with the Zenge?” He was using the ship’s communication system, and not the private chat line via the translator.

  “No. They are still moving directly toward us. We are at full speed. The initial group of Zenge ships will overtake in three-days, fifteen-hours. Confirmation of eleven ships in total. The last two have been picking up speed, and now travel at a little over 70,000 mph.”

  “Captain Cooper, you may proceed to the hangar doors,” Cornitsch’s interrupted. “Depressurization completed. We will open on your request.”

  “Thank you, Commander,” Cooper answered. “Mag-locks disengaged, and landing gear retracting.” He manually piloted the ship out of the side bay and into the cavernous main hangar. A deft touch with thrusters kept him a few feet above the deck, moving slowly toward the giant doors designed to deploy on hinges to create access ramps for the cruise ship.

  “Everyone listen up,” Cooper said, getting the attention of everyone keyed in to the current coms channel. “When I exit the Star Gazer, I will use thrusters only. Since the ramp will open in the same direction the ship is heading, I will exit and drop beneath the path of the Star Gazer. Then, and this next part is a bit tricky, I am going to directly engage space-fold drive.”

  “Captain?” the questioning tone from Captain Poonch. “Can you do that? I am certainly no expert in space-fold technology, but taking a ship from a stand-still to those speeds without a transition sounds dangerous.”

  “Honestly, Captain, it may not work,” Cooper admitted. He continued, “I ran numbers through the computers this morning, and I can’t find any reason it could not work. If we can see, and scan them from here, they can certainly see us. They would immediately pick up the engine flare from my sub-light. There is nothing for them to see, if I move away using space-fold.”

  No one else questioned the move, accepting it would either work, or not, and understanding the need for the Earth ship to remain covert.

  “Commander Cornitsch, doors please.”

  The double hinged doors fell away from Angel 7’s nose. When the blinking light above the doors’ frame turned solid, indicating completion of the ramp’s deployment, Coop nudged the ship forward. She flew in front of the Star Gazer for a moment, and with a movement of Cooper’s left hand, dropped below the giant cruise ship. Then she was gone.

  On board the Star Gazer, Poonch asked Storm, “How far
did they intend to travel by space-fold?”

  “Captain Cooper neglected to say,” an obviously angry, and anxious Fellen replied, eyes on the forward screen, and ears intent for a signal from Angel 7.

  The command bridge was eerily quiet. Slight beeps and whirls as monitor stations cycled through standard operations, but not one crew member spoke. Most hardly breathed.

  At exactly twelve minutes after departure, Cooper came over the main com channel, “Storm? Do you copy?”

  Storm was unaware when everyone around let out the same held breath. “I can hear you.”

  Four minutes later: “There is a two minute delay each way from our current position to you,” Cooper explained. “We are 12,294,638 miles out. The jump to place us behind and below the Zenge will take approximately three minutes. There is a piece of a shattered moon located near enough to allow us cover. From there we will passively scan and observe their ships. We will not communicate. We will remain covert, and continue observations for six hours. Our return to Star Gazer will take another fifteen minutes.

  “Counting from the time you receive the end of this communication, in six-hours fifteen-minutes, have Cornitsch open the hangar doors and prepare for Angel 7’s return. Leave the doors open for no more than thirty minutes. If we are not inside of the time limit, we will try recontact and recovery later. No need to reply, Storm. We are already gone. Angel 7, out.”

  Storm informed Poonch she would return to the bridge in five hours, and exited. The computers would alert her to any changes by the pursuit ships, or the arrival of the PT-109. Poonch understood not wanting to wait nervously with nothing to do but worry. He informed his First Officer he would return to the bridge in four-hours thirty-minutes, and took his leave.

  The First Officer took the command chair, and began issuing orders to Commander Cornitsch regarding maintaining the bay, and the time line for Angel 7’s return. Cornitsch, who had been included in the coms link, replied to the First Officer, but already rested his feet on his console. An alarm set to wake him in four hours.

  For the ensuing six hours, only the crew on Angel 7 would have anything interesting to fill their time.

  Chapter 27

  The two on Angel 7 had nothing interesting to fill their time.

  The space-fold jump had been timed and positioned perfectly. They emerged beneath an iron-ridden piece of moon which shielded them from the Zenge.

  Sky had been incredibly impressed with space-fold. Surprised it could operate totally independent of other drive systems. She was amazed how it was accurate to less than one-hundred miles from its target. Most incredible, it operated within the debris and obstructions which filled a solar system without running into any of them. More impressed a ship the size of Angel 7 utilized one.

  Once secure none of the enemy ships indicated awareness of their presence, Sky set up scans. They would take a number of passive readings on the ships. Active scans would have penetrated the ships’ hulls, alerting the enemy of the operation. The passive scans alone would not provide them life-form readings, or let them know exact locations for any systems, engines, dynamos, batteries, or weapons aboard the ships. Deductive reasoning could fill in the gaps.

  She also deployed a video drone, which slipped away from the ship, and around the edge of the rock they hid beneath. In essence, a miniature satellite with high-end optics. The com-tac monitor streamed the video. They would take video of each ship in the Zenge armada, starting with the first three. She intended scanning each ship twenty total minutes before moving to the successive vessel.

  Their aspect was behind and below, but with enough of an angle to see the port side of each ship. Unless there was something unique on top, or only the starboard side, they should get enough information to determine what they would face in three days.

  “Everything is automated now,” Sky told Coop. “If we move to the cabin, we can watch the monitors, and get an idea of the types of ships the Zenge have sent.”

  Coop agreed, and they relocated to the galley.

  “The first three ships are Zenge. It was the main type used when they attacked Fell.” Sky was seated at the table, facing the monitor. Her arms were crossed, and her chin rested on them. “There were scores of ships from other worlds, most refitted with weapons. But these were the main attack ships.”

  Coop said, “Let’s designate the first three ships as Zenge Primary. Do we have dimensions?”

  “Length is 2,000 feet at the center line; the forward 500 feet slopes to a flat nose; aft is 800 feet of a more gentle slope. 800 feet tall on center, and 400 feet wide across the aft keel,” Sky replied. She was reading from a display at the bottom of the com-tac monitor. From this distance, and considering the inset readout was not sizable, Cooper realized Fellen, at least this Fellen, had incredible eyesight. Three icons now read ZP1, ZP2 and ZP3.

  For Coop, the description sounded vaguely like the shape of an ocean submarine, including a com tower, but with no fins and no propellers. Not built for atmospheric travel, or for water. A simple, efficient design for space travel. No bells. No whistles.

  “If we take what we can see, and double it for what we cannot see, the Primary ships have a dozen laser cannons mounted around the hull,” Sky said, adding her assumptions to the assembled data on the ships. “A command bridge, and communications tower combination on top and two-thirds its length from the nose. Directly behind the bridge is another structure. My best guess, it houses the dynamo for the electro-magnetic forcefield. It isn’t the safest location, being exposed, but the proximity to the bridge would give that area the strongest field protection.

  “Rear, and about a third of the way up, is a hangar door. It opens wide, not down, so they either use external ramps, or they have an internal ramp which extends after the door opens. Their power plants are most likely located beneath the hangar area . . . the bottom, and farthest rear portion of the ship. I can see what looks like venting under the stern hull. Their engines are probably directly above.

  “We are passive, so I have no idea how they have segmented the interior. We will not know storage, armaments, number of personnel, or anything else until we use more active scans.”

  “Is there anything unique about any of the first three?” Cooper asked.

  “Paint,” Sky replied. “They don’t care about how the exterior of their ships look. They have rust stains, blast marks, scratches, and scruffs. One of the ships appears to have a substantial section that has been replaced. The welds are heavy and sloppy. The com towers and bridge areas have similar scanning and information arrays. The ship in the lead seems to use more up-to-date technology.”

  “Now we spend an hour recording video. Tell me something about Fell,” Cooper said. Because he wanted to pass the time, and because he was curious.

  Sky sat up, and then settled into the seat to get more comfortable. “Fell is the second planet in our solar system. Our star is smaller than yours, and more red in color. It puts out a great deal of radiation, but Fell has a thick atmosphere. Fell is smaller than your Earth, and covered in thick, rich vegetation. The planet has polar ice-caps, and the transition from forests to caps, at both poles, means traveling over or through mountains we call The Crowns of Fell.

  “The sky is habitually cloudy, but there is sufficient light for plants, and enjoying the day. It rains nearly every day across the planet. Normally late. Just before sunset. We have two major oceans, and many, many rivers. Our ancestors commonly travelled by water.”

  “Cities?” Coop asked.

  “We do not have real cities. The Fellen are still a tribal people. Most people live in clan villages. We have six space ports. They are located in wide expanses where forests were cut down, and the wood used to build everything from storage to shops. Space ships, both ours and visitors, dock at these ports. Travelers and traders who visit Fell stay in these areas. They are as close as we come to having cities.”

  Sky became quiet, and Coop left her to think about her home world. When her sh
oulders hunched and she frowned, he knew she was remembering her planet was under attack.

  “Time to survey the three following ships,” Sky said a little while later, dropping her head onto her crossed arms, and watching the com-tac monitor.

  “Three more Primaries, but older, more beat up, and a bit slower. Probably older power plants. More blast marks as well. These three have been in battle more than the first three, or their captains were not as good at getting out of the way of enemy fire.”

  Three more icons changed: ZP4, ZP5 and ZP6.

  They watched for a few minutes, seeing nothing uncommon from the first three. Sky allowed the video to run, capturing as much information as possible as the ships followed the initial three on the trail of The Star Gazer.

  “Family?” Cooper asked, fearful of causing pain, in case her family had been aboard one of the destroyed ships.

  “I have three sisters,” she told him. “One older, who is off to another system creating a communications array for advanced space ships, and two younger still at home.” Her face darkened, actually turning her soft blue tint a shade deeper. “I have two older brothers. One is a technical advisor, and in charge of an engineering lab located in the northern Crown. The other is a communication’s officer aboard a Fellen space ship which was away on a trade mission when the Zenge attacked.

  “My father is a famous engineer. He was the one who created the chip which allows a single user of a translation ring to both speak, and understand someone who does not wear a ring. Until my father’s chip, both parties needed to wear rings to hold a conversation. My mother is the family business person. She makes sure our family, and our tribe always get fair deals on trades and work we contract.”

  “Your father doesn’t have three or four wives?” Coop asked, remembering the statistics about women to men Sky had quoted before.

  “It is the norm, but my father is not normal,” she said, smiling. “He met my mother, fell in love, and wanted no others.”