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

by Don Foxe

  “Three-days, eighteen-hours. However, the 109 will receive communications before us. They can retransmit to Earth via STORM-HATCH. We should know more within three hours.”

  Not one to value patience, three hours awaiting news did not sit well. Nor was he a proponent of the changes within Space Fleet during the preceding five years. He called the SFPT-109, John F. Kennedy, ‘the Kennedy,’ and not ‘109.' Most Fleet personnel spoke of the ship as the 109 and the Artificial Intelligence operating the ship’s systems as Kennedy. Giving the AI a de facto name seemed wrong to the Admiral.

  As a youngster he saw the stories about Lethal Autonomous Weapons Systems (LAWS) driven by artificial intelligence devastating areas and killing people following the Pandemic. As a result, AI-operated systems took a set-back for decades. He foresaw nothing but problems resulting from their reemergence on Space Fleet ships.

  “Is the Roosevelt still at Fell?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. Delivering the last load of supplies before Counterstrike personnel begin returning to Earth,” Stewart answered.

  “Forward Captain Harrington an update and order the SFPT-99’s immediate return,” he said. “With the convoluted way space-fold works, Captain Harrington might reach the alien ship before Captain Sligh.”

  “Actually, sir,” Stewart’s tone hesitant. Correcting the Admiral never a pleasant experience. “The 99 needs to exit the Fell system before reentering space-fold for the trip to our solar system. Captain Harrington will arrive in our system in four-days, twelve-hours.”

  “Order them back anyway, Lieutenant,” Singletary replied, biting off each word. “Inform me immediately when we receive word on why that ship is here.”

  He shut down the inter-office coms, not waiting for a reply. He pushed the data pad with reassignment orders away. The recent forced retirement of Admiral Pamela Patterson, and his subsequent promotion, meant this would be his first actual test as Fleet Admiral in charge of providing security for the solar system.

  He should be issuing orders. He should be considering different scenarios to handle whatever might come his way, but he did not want to overreact. He preferred people think of him as calm and in control of the situation. Best not to make moves others could criticize later.

  The knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. It opened slowly. Krista Stewart looked around the edge.

  “Should I inform the UEC?” she asked.

  The UEC represented the central governing body for the planet. Space Fleet acted as a military force under their auspices.

  “Inform Governor Arcand,” Singletary said. “Tell him I have everything under control. And tell him I will keep him apprised.”

  The Aide’s head disappeared. The Admiral’s fingers tapped nervously atop his desk while he wondered if he overlooked anything else.

  He turned the coms back on, in case Stewart thought of something else he should do.

  Space - Between Jupiter and Saturn

  “Captain, it’s an Osperantue freighter,” ENS Michael Cuthbert reported. The officer at the 109’s communication console continued, “The ship is emitting an open hail across several channels. I can stream video and audio.”

  Faulkner Sligh, former commanding officer for Space Fleet shuttles and temporary Captain of the SFPT-109, wanted nothing more than for nothing more to happen before his impending retirement.

  “Put it up, Ensign,” he replied. “Everyone remains on battle stations. ENS Perrelli, monitor all scans. Let me know if that ship acts peculiar in any way.”

  Tony Perrelli nearly asked how he would recognize anything peculiar from an alien ship, but caught himself. “Yes, sir,” he replied.

  An image materialize on the forward Super High Definition (SHD). Humanoid with pale pink skin, wide-set doe eyes, wide nose, and thin lips. A Bosine; apparently female.

  The com-trans converted Osperantue to English.

  “I am Commander Sella Vasch of the Osperantue Freighter, Northern Sky. We are a civilian freight hauler and trader. We have no weapons. We come to meet with the humans who freed Fell to inform you Osperantue has also been liberated from the Zenge.”

  “What’s the delay?” Sligh asked.

  “Two-hours, forty-one minutes,” Cuthbert answered.

  The captain ordered the pilot to drop out of space-fold. Because the aliens did not possess tachyon-based communications equipment, his ship needed to reenter natural space to reply. He would use their older coms-system to broadcast a message the Osperantue could receive.

  “Commander Vasch, this is Captain Faulkner Sligh of the United Earth Space Fleet vessel John F. Kennedy. We are making way for your location. Please come to a halt and hold. We will arrive in seventy-five hours.”

  Seventy-five hours passed with a combination of fear, trepidation, expectations, and excitement aboard the 109, at Space Fleet headquarters on Earth, and among the United Earth Council representatives informed of the alien ship’s arrival. Mars Shipyard and Docks (MSD) and the Earth Moon Space Station (EMS2) maintained constant scans and visual surveillance of the Osperantue freighter.

  The PT-109 entered natural space 50,000-miles from the Osperantue ship. With the two ships sharing proximal space, relying on older communications tech did not present a lag-problem.

  “Commander Vasch, this is Captain Sligh. We scanned your vessel. I see no indication of weapons, however, I must be careful. I would like permission to access your systems to make sure you are who, and what, you profess.”

  “I am happy to oblige all requests,” the Bosine replied. “Is there anything I must do to provide access?”

  Kennedy, the ship’s AI, answered. “I have systems entry already, Commander Vasch. It appears you are exactly what you say.”

  “Welcome to our solar system, Commander,” Sligh said. He accepted Kennedy’s assessment without comment. “We were under the impression Osperantue had been invaded and overrun by Zenge, following the orders of the Mischene.”

  “Yes, Captain. I was dispatched to inform Earth a grave misunderstanding has occurred. Six months ago, Mischene battlecruisers and troops loyal to the Aster Farum 3 government arrived in our system. They destroyed the Zenge space ships in orbit. They battled the Zenge and Mischene traitors on Osperantue. They freed my planet.”

  “Commander Vasch. Earth has an expeditionary force currently on the planet Fell. They defeated the Zenge presence on that world. The Zenge were led by Mischene officers and protected by Mischene battle ships. Can you be a bit more clear for me? You say Mischene forces liberated Osperantue from Zenge and Mischene traitors?”

  “Exactly, Captain Sligh,” the officer responded. The earnest timbre of her voice not lost in the communication or the translation. “The Zenge operate under the direction of a Mischene traitor who calls himself the Prophet. He radicalized a segment of the Mischene population, including several powerful people on Aster Farum 3. This Prophet, and Mischene converts to his religion, indoctrinated and trained the Zenge warriors. He is responsible for the attacks on Trading Alliance Worlds.”

  “Commander, a moment, please,” Sligh said, and signaled the Coms officer to disconnect sound. “Counselor Bouvier, opinion?”

  Genna Bouvier, Ship’s Counselor, sat at the Operations and Tactical Console. The attractive strawberry blonde, with deep blue eyes and freckles, appeared young for the role of Counselor aboard a Fleet battle ship. Bio-electronics embedded in her brain before birth connected her directly to the ship’s AI, creating a human-machine bond. The first viable human avatar to an artificial intelligence, created to prevent a sentient technology from insanity. She and Captain Daniel Cooper made first contact with extraterrestrials, and she possessed more experience than anyone else on board with Zenge, Mischene, and aliens in general.

  “I cannot honestly say,” she replied. “Commander Vasch believes what she says. Kennedy’s bio-scans indicate no attempt at deceit. We knew about the Prophet, but intelligence considered him a pawn of the Mischene government. I suggest you try to learn m
ore.”

  Sligh signaled for audio to resume.

  “Sorry for the interruption, Commander,” he said to the image on the bulkhead. “How did the Mischene come to the aid of Osperantue?”

  “The Mischene loyalists, under Governor General Soren, removed the Prophet’s people from influence in the Aster system. My understanding is the Mischene extremists supporting the Prophet represented a small segment of their race. When the Prophet sent his commandeered fleet, officers, and Zenge terrorists to attack other worlds, his assets became spread thin. This allowed the Mischene loyalists under Governor Soren to retake control of the Aster system. Six months ago, the Mischene loyalists arrived at Osperantue to confront the Prophet’s forces. They eradicated the invaders.” Commander Vasch took a moment to calm herself, excited by the retelling of the story.

  “Governor General Soren, himself, came to Osperantue to apologize for the actions of the Mischene traitors. He promised all the aid the Aster system could provide. They delivered supplies at no trade cost, and provided help to rebuild infrastructures destroyed by the Zenge. He promised Mischene loyalists will offer the same assistance to every world the Prophet’s cult attacked and plundered.”

  The doe-eyed freighter captain looked away. She reached for something off-screen before returning to her narrative.

  “The Governor received reports the Trade Alliance Worlds believe the Mischene supported the Zenge attacks in the galaxy.” Vasch gave Sligh an intense look as she continued. “The Mischene loyalist want to make this right, Captain Sligh. They want the galaxy to understand a few Mischene extremist do not represent Aster Farum 3. That is why I volunteered to bring you this message.”

  The freighter commander read aloud from a hand-held flex-sheet.

  “I, Governor General Soren, and the honest and honorable citizens of Aster system, especially the Mischene race, feel morally responsible for the death and destruction the Prophet unleashed upon members of the Trading Alliance. The Prophet is insane and misguided. He and his core supporters do not represent the average Mischene.

  “I am aware of planet Earth’s actions to repel the traitors from the Quentle system, and the heroic efforts of humans to defeat the invaders on Fell. I offer to provide any and all support requested by Earth’s forces in their efforts against the Prophet and the Zenge fanatics. Aster Farum 3 wishes to extend aid, supplies, or assistance required by the Fellen to speed their planet’s recovery.”

  The Commander looked up from her note to address the human. “On board, I carry medical supplies for the people of Fell, provided by the Mischene loyalists. This small gesture is a first step in repairing the harm done by the Prophet.”

  “Why bring them to our solar system?” Sligh asked.

  “Fear that when I arrived in the Fell system, under the current situation, your people might fire first,” Vasch admitted. “The Mischene are aware Earth ships use space-fold technology to travel between star systems. They recommended I deliver the supplies here, along with an explanation, and ask you to pass both along to Fell.”

  “Captain Sligh,” the ensign on coms interrupted. “You have a priority call from Fleet Admiral Singletary. The Admiral has been monitoring your conversation.”

  Captain Sligh turned to the monitor. “Commander, I appreciate your volunteering your ship to bring us this news. As you know, our forces have been through a protracted battle and we are all a bit on edge. I would appreciate it if you would allow a security team to board and inspect your vessel.”

  “Of course, Captain,” the Bosine agreed. “I fully understand and extend a welcome to you. My ship is yours to command.”

  “Thank you, Commander Vasch. My security chief will contact you in a couple of minutes to determine the best way for our people to transfer to your ship.”

  Sligh ordered his coms officer to close current communications, instruct Space Fleet Marine Major Duval to contact Vasch, and put Admiral Singletary through.

  The face on the SHD changed from the Bosine captain to the dark scowl of Space Fleet Admiral Terrance Singletary.

  “I suppose it was necessary to keep me waiting, Captain,” the Admiral started. “Make sure everything you download from the ship’s computers is sent directly to Fleet Intelligence in Toronto. Keep your weapons up and your people alert. Wait for the arrival of the Roosevelt. By the time Captain Harrington is on site, I will have had the opportunity to parse the information. I will decide, at that time, what to do with the aliens and their ship. Singletary, out.”

  The image of the thin black man in his grey uniform disappeared, replaced by a virtual representation of the Osperantue freighter floating in the void.

  Genna swiveled to face her commanding officer. “You did well, Captain.”

  Sligh nodded his appreciation. Further decisions would fall on Harrington, who held seniority. He silently asked the space fates to not let anything happen before the arrival of the 99.

  CHAPTER 3

  Space Port Harmony - Planet FELL

  Elena Casalobos, Air Commander for Operation Crossroads, waited in the central command hut. The first building constructed by Earth forces at Harmony, formerly the Fellen space port of CHangoria 2. It became the OAT - Office for All Things. The structure, framed in metal alloys and clad in wood from local trees, blended with the older Fellen buildings. It housed the most advanced communications array ever created.

  A Solid-State Tachyon Operations and Retrieval Monitor (STORM) display sat on a wooden table. More than a simple monitor, it could contain a captured tachyon particle in order to imprint information for transmission. It could also download and display distortion-free data.

  Transmission or retrieval of communications and data happened through the Hernandez - ASparquila Tachyon Communications Housing (HATCH). The HATCH resembled a laser rifle surrounded by wire mesh. One rested on a swivel attached to the roof of the building.

  STORM-HATCH or SH allowed real-time interstellar communications. The tachyon-based system enabled ships traveling is space-fold to send and receive communications. Until the breakthrough, ships in space-fold remained out-of-touch, forced to drop into natural space to send or receive messages.

  A beefy, muscled Russian, legs stretched out in front of him, rested on a chair beside the Spanish Casalobos. Colonel Anton Gregory commanded ground forces for Operation Crossroads. The two commanders were Space Rangers, genetically reengineered humans, and friends for over thirty years.

  A holographic mini-version of Admiral Singletary appeared above the STORM console. Their images would similarly appear atop the unit in an office adjacent to Singletary’s.

  “An Osperantue freighter arrived in our solar system.” The conversation begun without introductions or pleasantries offered by Space Fleet’s highest ranking officer.

  “We know this,” Gregory said. “It is why you recalled Captain Harrison and the 99.”

  “Yes, but what you do not know, Colonel Gregory, is the Osperantue claim their planet has been freed of Zenge invaders by what they describe as loyal Mischene military units,” Singletary said.

  “We know that, too,” Casalobos replied. “We heard the conversation between Captain Sligh and Commander Vasch. We received copies of the data files downloaded by Kennedy.”

  “Who, exactly, authorized your access to any of this?” Singletary demanded.

  “Space Fleet,” Casalobos replied. “Communications’ standing orders include keeping us informed of anything with the potential to impact our mission. I’d say an alien vessel showing up with news about Mischene and Zenge fits the bill.”

  “I assume Patterson set those orders before retiring,” the angry little holo-image said. “Someone should have informed me following my promotion.”

  The Spaniard and the Russian said nothing to agree or disagree. Only one month away from returning to Earth, rocking a space boat this far from home made little sense.

  “Fine,” the Admiral finally said. “Captain Casalobos, task one of your fighters to recon Ospe
rantue. I want to know if what the freighter captain says is true. Have them report directly to me. To me first, Captain. I’ll decide if they should inform you of what they find, and whether they should return to Fell or proceed directly to EMS2.”

  Elena sat forward, about to rock the boat violently, when Anton placed a restraining hand on her arm.

  “Yes, sir,” she responded.

  “Colonel Gregory, I’m ordering you to speed up the departure of personnel and equipment. I need all of my assets on hand. I intend to prepare Space Fleet for a sneak attack.”

  “Yes, Admiral. But there is one little thing.”

  “What little thing?”

  “Not everyone wishes to return,” Gregory informed his commander. “A few thousand people have decided they like Fell. They handed in resignation papers.”

  “How many exactly?” Singletary demanded. Holo-images do not always display colors and tones well, but the new tachyon system apparently did a better job. The Admiral’s face grew darker.

  “Twelve-thousand six-hundred and forty-one,” Gregory replied. “Not counting Dr. Hiro Kimura. He is actually a civilian, and does not require a resignation.”

  “Tell them all no, Colonel,” Singletary replied. “We are at war. I will not allow mass desertions. Anyone refusing the order to return will be courtmartialed and placed in prison.”

  “We can’t do that, Admiral,” Elena spoke up. “The people who joined the mission are all volunteers. None signed oaths to UEC or Space Fleet, unless they were already members of UEC military branches. Even then, when you declared Operation Crossroads as complete last month, it released them from service. Anyone serving UEC military branches, and having served their allotted time, have the right to resign.”

  If an image could explode, the interior of the hut would be charred.

  “Captain Casalobos. Colonel Gregory. You will not leave one piece of equipment or one iota of supplies behind. If those deserters wish to remain, then we are better off without them. But I will not leave them anything UEC-owned. Is that clear?”