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

by Don Foxe

  “The witch from Devisator is here to see you, Governor,” she informed him with obvious disgust. “She is in the reception area.”

  “She is not a witch,” Soren responded, amused. “She is ugly as one, and her kind make some interesting concoctions, but there is nothing supernatural about the Devee. They just have a history of potion experimentation. They trade their potions the same as the Pagoran once traded wormhole charts. Send her in.”

  Eskil left to summon the witch, happy for the absence from her reception area, but unhappy about the Devee alone with her boss.

  The Supreme Governor General of the Aster system rose to greet his guest.

  “Sypha Chai of the Devee,” he said, and waved his hand at a chair before his desk. “You are always welcome on Aster Farum 3.”

  The tall woman, dressed in black with blood red stripes down the flowing sleeves of her billowing top, and blood red shoes that peaked from beneath a flowing black skirt, took the offered chair. Her hair in dreadlocks, and a gold ring pierced the corner of her left eyebrow. She had small eyes and a long nose. Her lips thin and tight. She placed a metal case beside her chair.

  “Supreme Governor Soren, always a pleasure to see you each year,” the woman said.

  “You have the tea?” he asked. His eyes moved quickly to the case, and then back to her.

  “Of course,” she replied. “I assume the trade goods are being delivered to my ship.”

  “As we speak,” Soren said. “Plus thirty Caulvene from Aster Farum 2 for your experiments. A mix of male and female of varying ages. I believe there is even a new born among them.”

  The Devee transferred the case to her lap and opened the locks in some fashion Soren could not make out. She turned it around to show him the contents. Twelve small vials of yellow liquid encased in foam.

  “For you and your eleven chosen. My own special Longgevi-tea blend. Mix it with warm water, add a little syrup, just for taste, and you gain another year of slowed aging. What has it been now, Supreme Governor, one-hundred years we have been partners?”

  “Nearly, Sypha Chai,” Soren agrees. “It has made me and my chosen worshipped and feared among all the races of the Aster system. It is also a closely guarded secret, yes, Chai?”

  “I make this blend only for you, your eleven, and your son,” Chai assured him. “It will always be a secret. Besides, I have only been able to create a formula that works for Mischene. Pity. I would be the most powerful woman in the universe if I could unlock the key to making Longgevi-tea successful for others.”

  “Speaking of Atticus,” Soren interrupted the Devee’s thoughts of glory. “I think you might miss your next appointment with my son. I fear the Prophet’s lifespan may need to be shortened. I will, of course, purchase his vial.”

  “I am so sorry, Supreme Governor,” Chai said. “I already visited Zenge Prime and delivered the Prophet’s blend. Had I known sooner, I would have chosen a different route,” the chemist said, adding a bow of her head.

  “It is as it is,” Soren said, softly. “Please plan on stopping by Aster Farum 3 before Zenge Prime next year.”

  “Of course, Supreme Governor. I must return to Devisator now. My experiments await.”

  The Sypha left, and Eskil returned. “Admiral Lexton is waiting.”

  “Send him in,” Soren placed the contents from the metal case in his wall safe. He was anxious for his tea, but would wait for a more private time.

  Lexton, tall and thin, with darker skin than Soren, the same white hair, cut much, much shorter. He wore his traditional black uniform with silver braid. He took the chair the Sypha vacated. He did so without waiting for permission.

  “My people have analyzed the data from the attack on Fell by the Earthmen,” he said. “The launch had to remain far away, near enough the wormhole to escape, but we still have more information than we did before.”

  “Such as?” Soren asked.

  “The Earth space fighters defeating the ships I dispatched to collect the Osperantue cruise ship were not simply lucky. Earth forces are well-trained, strategically smart, and extremely determined. They most certainly possess space-fold travel, which alone makes them more advanced than any other world in the known universe. The white-noise distributors our scientists created to overcome their sonic force fields were successful, but worthless. The ships operated at such speeds, and with such precision they didn’t need a defensive shield. I would give a battalion for one pilot as capable as any of those on these data tapes,” the Admiral groused.

  “Let’s not give the enemy too much credit, Admiral,” Soren warned. “We need to keep perspective. We are the Mischene Empire. We will defeat every obstacle that stands in our way. Please keep that in mind.”

  “They have adapted the sub-atomic particle weapon they used for planetary defense on Rys for their ships,” Lexton continued, unfazed by the Governor’s comments. “Six three-man fighters destroyed, and please keep count, Supreme Governor, two of our battleships, four of our escort destroyers, a Class One Convoy Battle Cruiser and the plasma cannon emplacements on the surface, while suffering the loss of two of their own.

  “The entire strategic air cover for Fell eliminated in a matter of hours,” Lexton said. “If this Earth decides to turn its attention on the Aster system, we will be in a fight for our existence.”

  “Anything else?” Soren asked calmly.

  “They appear to have an alliance with the Rys planet and access to their crystals. They may soon hold Fell, and access to the technology hidden in the bunkers that we have not been able to break into. We have no idea the total number of ships or types they may possess. We know they have at least one larger battle ship. It was used in their solar system and in the Quentle system. They did not bother to bring it to Fell. They could have a fleet of ships capable of space-fold, with weapons capable of shattering force fields. They may have the ability to unite all the known worlds against us. Would that be enough, Supreme Governor?”

  “Watch your tone, Baynard. We are friends and I value your insight and opinions, but I am, as you say, Supreme Governor General of the Aster system,” Soren warned his chief military commander in the same calm manner as before. “What we need now is cool heads, and a new plan.”

  “Your strategists wanted Zenge to attack low-tech worlds in the opposite direction of our current mission scheme. They thought we could lure the Earthmen away from Aster system, and maybe into a trap. You no longer agree?” the Admiral asked with less vitriol.

  “Strategists are good at war-games, Baynard. What we face now is more political, and I believe I am more deft at those tactics,” Soren replied. “It is time we made better use of our Prophet. I believe we can begin a campaign designed to convince people the Zenge are under his spell. He is supported by a faction of Mischene radicals. Radicals with sufficient power to keep the loyalists underground. Until we could amass the strength to defeat them, and the Prophet’s insidious plans of galactic genocide.”

  “This is why you’ve kept Atticus at arm’s length for so many decades.” Lexton made a statement, not a question. “In case something like this ever occurred. You would have a scapegoat, a distraction for others to vent their rage upon.”

  “It always pays in politics to plan for many contingencies,” Soren replied. “The politician who can plan long term always maintains the advantage. My son, my own flesh has taken the virtues of the sacred Tahbita and twisted them into some insane religion. A cult that in no way reflects the values of true Mischene. His actions will be a torment for me to carry for all my years to come,” the Governor spoke with conviction and sadness, preparing for his upcoming performances.

  “And the Mischene’s manifest destiny?” the Admiral asked. “Do we give up all of our goals to avoid war with this Earth?”

  “We give up nothing, Admiral, except a little time,” Soren answered. “We need time to learn more about humans. We need access, so we can discover the secrets of space-fold travel, their weapons, and whatever else th
ey may have that we will take and use to conquer the galaxy.”

  “And once we have done these things?”

  “We destroy Earth, and retake all they have taken from us. We make every world who stands against us pay the ultimate price. In the end, when all is done, only the Mischene are the chosen of the Creator, and we alone will rule.”

  “How do we start this new plan?” the Admiral inquired, more convinced now than before of an opportunity to defeat the Earth forces.

  “They have Fellen and Rys alliances already,” Soren said, getting up to walk as he talked. He began to formulate his plan on the move. “This we surmise from their defense of Rys and their appearance on Fell. But they also have ties to Osperantue. They intervened and prevented the taking of the cruise ship. That same cruise ship appeared after they wiped out our air and space assets on Fell. Yes, Baynard. I receive reports. Sometimes before you do.”

  He stopped and gazed upon the closed fist emblem on the wall. The representation of the Fist of Tahbita. The core group believed and schemed for Mischene supremacy.

  “You will send ships and troops to Osperantue. Loyal Mischene will free the planet from the Zenge marauders and the traitors who invaded by order of their false Prophet.”

  “Exactly how do we accomplish this?” Admiral Lexton asked. “We can convince the Mischene aboard the ships to give us entry. Those who resist can be taken, but once the surprise is gone, how do we defeat the Zenge army on the surface? They are armed as we are, and they fight until death. I would be sending my people into a firestorm, and we will need those assets later.”

  “But, dear Baynard, you forget the lesson learned from the first world the Zenge were set loose upon,” Soren said.

  Recalling Zenge history, Lexton said, “They wiped out the entire population of the planet in bloodlust.”

  “We inserted shock nodes into their communications collars,” Soren reminded him. “I do believe they have a death level setting.”

  “We take over our own ships and we eliminate the Zenge,” Lexton said. “The Osperantue races will see us as saviors. They send word to other worlds of our triumph over the evil Prophet and the misguided Mischene radicals.”

  “Don’t do it too quickly,” Soren warned. “Take your time. Let the races on Osperantue suffer at the hands of the Zenge, even as your valiant soldiers strive to save them. Order your commanders to use the death settings when no one but loyal Mischene are around to see.”

  “And fire lasers into every dead Zenge, just in case someone checks,” Lexton added.

  “That’s the spirit, Admiral. You have the concept and the vision, now you need to make plans to accomplish your mission. I will make sure Atticus is kept in the dark. I will also need to select a few Mischene martyrs. We will need to make a show of retaking Aster Farum 3 from the fanatics. I’m afraid some of our friends may have to die to make it convincing.”

  “Collateral damage occurs in every war,” Lexton said as he stood. “I’m sure their sacrifices will be rewarded by the Creator. What about the other planets and the factories on the moons? If anyone enters Aster system, they will see we still control those places. Does your plan include releasing all we have accomplished?”

  “No, certainly not,” Soren replied. “We must maintain our control of the system, and we must continue to build our war machine. We will keep Aster system quarantined. If anyone asks, we tell them the Prophet’s fanatics, Mischene and Zenge, in those locations are too entrenched for us to move against without, as you say, too much collateral damage.

  “We will say our ships blockade the system to prevent the evil here from spreading, and to stop the Prophet from sending reinforcements. It would be incredibly dangerous for ships to enter the Aster system until we regain total control.

  Soren ended the meeting. “Admiral, you take care of the Osperantue operation. I will mount the propaganda war.”

  Lexton exited. Soren was left alone with his thoughts and plots. He gazed up at the portrait of himself, standing tall and proud, white mane blowing in the winds of change.

  “Yes, rewarded by the Creator,” he repeated to himself, staring at his image.

  EARTH

  Hadritak sat. Guy Arcand, UEC representative from Canada stood at the window, looking across the UEC complex. Arcand would be named the head of the Board of Governors within days.

  “The people supported the decision to help liberate Fell,” Arcand began. “But when reports of casualties started coming in, and the number of humans dying mounted, those same people began to question our decision to fight for aliens. News reports gave people a bad taste for the conflict. Happening one-trillions miles away, made it more distasteful.”

  Hadritak said, “We also have a religious crisis brewing. The arrival of non-terrestrials means the whole question of God and man has been revisited. All around the world, religious leaders are trying to maintain order. Is there a God? Do aliens believe in God? Loss of faith is a difficult enemy to fight. Religious groups are asking if aliens represent God, the devil, or something worse.”

  Arcand continued from there. “We’ve had to keep the refugees in New Zealand protected. Space Fleet has been reassigning aliens off space ships and into no-fly positions on the platforms, or to Earth.”

  “It isn’t just religions,” Hadritak said. “The UEC must react to what is happening with the general population. Over half of the Board of Governors have been replaced. The new governors expect Space Fleet to act more professionally, and become more of a system defense force. You must require Admiral Singletary to move in that direction. New screening methods must be enacted for any and all non-humans who associate with any of our military branches.”

  “Active attempts to make contact with alien lifeforms needs to be postponed.” Arcand said.

  “Delayed,” the Arab agreed. “There is more at play, Governor Arcand. We face a conflict of ideology and reality. The people want to become re-isolated from the galaxy. A majority believe Earth has been thrust into galactic political upheaval before we were ready. First contact occurred before anyone expected it to happen. Discovering we have hundreds of neighbors, and they were embroiled in a major war, is making people wonder who is right and who is wrong. We’ve taken the word of the refugees, but can we trust them? People, fearful people, believe Earth needs to take a step back. Spend more time learning what is out there, and then create policies. No more action without information.”

  “Isolationism? How can we ignore what we have discovered? Aliens, good and bad, exist.” Arcand looked to the man from the Middle East for advice. For direction.

  “I said a strange thing is occurring,” he reminded him. “Because of our successes fighting the Zenge, and the Mischene, some very influential people see Earth as a potential power-broker in the galaxy. Our superiority with space-fold travel, weapons, tactical planning, and now communications and technical advances leave some convinced we are a major player in the universe. In spite of our late arrival, we’ve arrived with the biggest stick.”

  “Advances provided with the help of aliens,” Arcand inserted. “Fairchild found space-fold. We’re good at war. Earth has been at war with itself for hundreds of thousands of years. It’s a cottage industry. Communications and energy source advances came from Fell and Rys. What do we do about those relationships?”

  “The UEC is putting them on the back-burner,” Hadritak said. “All agreements, alliances, treaties and compacts placed on hold. We will not maintain a force on Fell. All personnel will be recalled to Earth. Earth must look out for Earth first.”

  “The pendulum will swing back,” Arcand said. “People are not stupid, just scared. Once they have time to calm down, and when all of the facts are presented, Earth will get back in the game.”

  “And the threat represented by the Zenge and the Mischene? Do we wait for them to attack?”

  “We will prepare to defend our solar system from an attack,” the Canadian declared.

  “That is a good thing, Guy,” H
adritak agreed. Then planted the seed. “It would be a better thing If we also make plans to attack the Zenge, or perhaps the Aster System, first. If we must fight for Earth, it would be better done at a time of our choosing, where collateral damage will be theirs, not ours.”

  “You may be right, my friend. Earth first.”

  FIN ISLAND, VANCOUVER, CANADA

  Daniel Cooper opened his eyes.

  THE END

  

  CONFLUENCE

  ALLIES AND ENEMIES

  Book Three in the space fleet sagas

  DON FOXE

  Copyright © 2017 don foxe

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Written by Don Foxe. donfoxe.com

  Produced by Caballus Press, USA Division

  www.caballuspress.com

  Stock images are used for illustrative purposes only.

  Some stock imagery from Pixabay.com and Unsplach.com.

  ISBN: 9780998804453

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2017949973

  Acknowledgments

  Nancy Thurmond for editing. In those places you find the grammar questionable, those are my decisions to add style over substance. She shakes her head, but allows me artistic license.