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

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Space Fleet Sagas Foundation Trilogy: Books One, Two, and Three in the Space Fleet Sagas Page 79

by Don Foxe


  “Captain Black,” Claflin called out. “Heard you had a bit of difficulty. Suppo, you here to personally deliver a crystal?”

  “Getting the specs to make sure I get the right one,” Smith answered.

  “Coms not working?” the security chief asked.

  “Haven’t seen the 89 up close since she launched,” Smith replied. “I hoped Captain Black would give me a tour.”

  “Which I would except I’m in a hurry,” Black said. “I need a back-up crystal, and I need to get back on patrol. Is there something I’ve done to warrant your visit, Chief, with a half-dozen security agents?”

  “Unexpected visit. My job to check on anything dodgy,” he said, body relaxed, bright smile. “What was Lt. McCormack’s excuse for meeting you?”

  “I was in the Officer’s Lounge when I got word of the 89’s arrival,” Smith answered for Black. “She simply came along. When the Captain told us there wasn’t time for us to board, Lt. McCormack left.”

  The Brit removed his cap and scratched the back of his bald skull.

  “Sounds reasonable, but a load of bullocks,” he said, returning the cap. “Emergency visit by a ship that just left EMS2, and I find Daniel Cooper’s two best mates on MDS having a private chat with the ship’s Captain.” Claflin pulled the laser pistol from its holster, and six shoulder-fire rifles behind him rose.

  As the Chief of Security made his move, the airlock/gangplank behind Black opened. In quicktime a dozen Space Fleet Marines deployed, weapons already up and ready. They took a line across the corridor, facing the security agents.

  “The Camarilla is busted, Claflin,” Black said. “Do you want to die for nothing?”

  “Die? Not me, Amanda. I’m a Space Ranger. I think I might just be able to take you all, even if you have a few more guns.”

  “And I may change the odds back into Captain Black’s favor,” Col. Anton Gregory said, stepping through the gate to stand between Black and Smith.

  “British Special Forces versus Russian Spetsnaz,” the Brit said, bravado still unwavering. “I’ve always believed your reputation was overblown.”

  “And what about Marine training, Benny?”

  Tab emerged from the airlock.

  “Do you think you can take on two Space Rangers? One of whom with a personal debt to settle with you?” he asked.

  Before the traitorous head of security could reply, Heidi McCormack returned, followed by a large number of armed Fleet military personnel.

  Claflin watched his security agents lower their laser rifles to the deck, and raise their hands to the ceiling.

  He spun his pistol and offered the grip to Gregory.

  “I surrender, and I formally request protection from Barnwell.”

  CHAPTER 27

  FELL

  “For a small ship, she certainly appears formidable,” the Lisza Kaugh prince said, remarking on Cassandra’s visage. “She looks like something that would come out of the ocean’s depths and swallow you whole.”

  “She will bite,” Coop agreed. “The crates?”

  Yauni gestured for the two crates.

  “The smaller one contains six of the new black diamond laser pistols. I did not include holsters, as ours would be much too big for you to wear. The larger crate holds a half-dozen updated laser rifles. Each crate contains a replacement diamond that is fully charged.”

  He handed Coop a data stick and told him, “This is the method of creating an electron bath used to recharge the diamonds. No one knows yet how many charges they will accept, but our scientists believe they will be around and working for many, many years.

  “I realize you cannot win a war with a dozen new weapons,” Yauni said, “but I hope when Earth sees what Rys can offer, they will want to open trade channels again. It pays to advertise.”

  He motioned for the third crate, and the smallest of the three.

  “This is your surprise,” he said to the human. “Some of our younger scientists are experimenting with building their own space-fold array. Now that they know it is possible and not a myth, it gives them something to do in their free time.”

  “Nathan Trent and Manny Hernandez told me the right combination of cut crystal, facet angles, proper laser intensity, from multiple lasers of different strengths, and how much electricity to mix in would take billions of years to luck upon,” Coop said.

  “Probably correct, but youngsters need distractions,” Yauni replied. “Even failed experiments sometimes produce positive results. They experimented with a black diamond cut in what your people would describe as an Asscher. After they placed the cut crystal upright, they fired a laser into it from the front, and another from the rear. Instead of a space-fold, it created a force wall.”

  “A force wall, not a force field,” Coop said.

  “Similar, but only a wall,” Yauni replied. “They could manipulate the wall forward or back by changing the intensity of the laser beams. But these were young scientists, so they had to try more. They spun the diamond in a vertical circle, and the wall became a well. They spun it in a horizontal circle and it became a short tunnel.”

  Yauni patted the crate, and said, “Then they spun it within a gyroscope, and they created a bubble. Not a large bubble. Maybe just big enough to cover a 75-foot by 75-foot area.”

  “An area that would cover a small ship, like this one,” Coop said, indicating the Wraith, 72-feet long with a 56-foot wingspan.”

  “It can also be used to protect valuable assets, such as cannon emplacements,” Yauni added. “Our cutters are in the process of shaping more black diamonds to ward strategic areas against attack. But it does have one draw-back we are attempting to solve.”

  “That would be?” Coop queried.

  “If you are protected by the field, you cannot fire from within it,” Yauni told him. “It works as a shield in both directions.”

  “Then why would you want to use it?” Coop asked. “It acts as a defense, but you cannot use your offensive capabilities.”

  “A temporary set-back,” the prince assured him. “You would want it, especially aboard a space ship, because it is does not use electric or magnetic influence to operate. An EMP blast would have no effect. White Noise, that can disable your unique sonic forcefields, has no effect on a crystal bubble. Consider it a back-up to your primary system. It takes up little space, produces no radiation or electrical discharge, and is simple to operate.”

  “I would make a suggestion,” Coop said, and Yauni indicated that he should continue. “If you plan on developing a force field generator that cannot be defeated by methods we now know about, you might want to come up with a method that will defeat it before you begin offering it for barter.”

  “In case the wrong people were to use it for the wrong purposes,” Yauni said. “We agree, Captain Cooper. The prototype you now own is the only one that will leave Rys before we know how it can be turned off from the outside. Besides, it may be years before we can figure out how to send objects from inside to outside. It is a good thing the traders of Rys take a long view.”

  “I appreciate the gifts, Prince Yauni. Please give my regards to your parents. I hope relationships between my world and yours return to normal soon,” he said.

  Coop secured the crystal-force barrier components in Cassandra’s rear storage. He removed two of the updated laser rifles and placed them within the ship’s armory.

  The six pistols and the remaining four rifles he turned over to Cindy Shah.

  “You and Mags had time with Yauni’s pistol. Comments?” he asked.

  “They integrated a black diamond power source requiring a whole lot less housing,” the former Space Marine and weapons expert replied. “Alloys were chosen for the pistol that handle the power and heat while remaining compact and light.”

  “Do you think we could make a few adjustments to the Serpa holsters, and modify them to work with the new design?”

  “Damn Skippy,” Cindy answered, adding a smile. Any weapon’s expert loves a challe
nge. “Give me an hour. With the right tools, I’ll compensate for the pistol’s profile.”

  Coop left Cindy to her work, and found Hiro. The Japanese Space Ranger sat in the co-pilot seat listening to Mags as she listed components and capabilities of the personal fighter aloud from the pilot’s seat.

  “Comfortable?” he asked, lowering himself into the ship.

  “Heaven,” Mags answered. “She’s a luxury sports car with cannons. Every girl’s dream.”

  “Take Hiro for a ride,” Coop said. “In and out of atmosphere. You can get a feel for how she handles, and Hiro can make sure you bring her back to me.”

  Mary Margaret Moore literally squealed as she jumped from the seat to bear-hug Cooper.

  “Get off,” she ordered. “We’re ready for flight.”

  Hiro gave Coop a shaky thumbs-up before he exited through the roof access hatch. The tripod landing gear began to rise before he jumped from wing to surface. He ran to avoid the under-wash as Mags took the ship into an emergency liftoff. The tiny ship disappeared into the overcast sky within seconds.

  He found Sky and Storm with Cindy at a table set up outside of a storage hut. They were joined by a half-dozen Earth ex-soldiers and a large land vehicle. The truck performed as a mobile service platform. It was backed up to the table.

  When Cindy saw Coop she said, “I couldn’t figure out a way to get the Serpa to take the front array box and allow a quick draw. I called on a couple of gunsmiths who stayed behind. One is also a machinist.”

  She handed Coop the laser pistol. The rectangular forward array box, that also acted as a grip, had an added hinge. The array-box rested flush against the bottom of the pistol barrel.

  Next she handed him a modified Serpa Y-holster. Coop unhooked his belt buckle to thread the Serpa through. He secured the holster to his thigh with velcro straps. Finally, he placed the pistol in the holster.

  Quicker than a cat, he drew the pistol. As it snapped into firing position, an inertia hinge released the forward array. The weapon ready to fire.

  “Push the box a bit forward, then up to lock it under the barrel,” a short, compact man with buzz cut and stubble on his chin instructed. Coop followed the directions. The box locked in place. “Now you can holster it,” the man said.

  “What do you think?” Cindy asked.

  “Damn Skippy,” he replied, using her phrase. “How many have you re-machined?”

  “Just the one,” she admitted. “John and Boris,” indicating the two gunsmiths, “just completed the hinge action, and I just finished the minor changes to the Serpa. Give us two hours and we’ll have all six sets ready for you.”

  “I only need two,” Coop said. “The others stay with you.”

  “Well, as long as you’re leaving them, I think the three of us may spend a few days in R and D,” Cindy said with a smile. “We have an extra diamond for each pistol and rifle. I think we might just try and reverse engineer the mechanics. Let’s see if we can build our own.”

  “My family and I have been working on the problem of communicating with Kennedy or Elie undetected,” Sky said. “We’ve incorporated a second tachyon beam to the HATCH transmitter. One with a completely different signature. The second transmission is a shadow following the primary beam. We can transmit a message and only someone looking specifically for the shadow transmission will recognize it.”

  “You did that in two hours?” Coop asked in awe.

  “Actually, my family started working on the problem when you first mentioned it,” she told him. “ASparilla has tinkered with such a covert ability for a while,” she admitted. “We must have the physical STORM-HATCH systems in order to make the changes. Right now Cassandra will be the only ship capable of utilizing the private channel to both send and receive.”

  “Which is great for keeping our contacts secret,” Coop said. “It doesn’t get us in contact with Kennedy or Elie.”

  “Storm and I believe Kennedy may be able to modify the STORM aboard the 109 to receive the secondary messages, if she knows a secret transmission is present,” Sky replied.

  “We would have to tell her, and that would be overheard,” Coop countered.

  “Unless a secret code existed,” Storm said. “When we rescued Sky’s family from the bunker on Fell, and we learned about the Mischene, I remember how you kept Captain Canedee from panicking when we returned.”

  “We pretended we never got close to the planet and the mission was a bust,” Coop responded.

  “You warned Kennedy not to broadcast the 109’s scans revealing that Angel 7 returned with more lifeforms than went out,” Storm said.

  “Just another rodeo,” Coop said. “The code phrase we developed that meant go along for the ride. Play along.”

  “I will send a message to Nathan Trent,” Sky said, “and ask him to pass a personal message to Elie. It will include the phrase ‘just another rodeo,’ connected to Fell.”

  “Elie may not understand, but she’s bright enough to keep silent,” Coop said. “Kennedy monitors every communication, and she will know the message is actually for her.”

  “We will continually broadcast short bursts to the 109, but with no obvious message. Hopefully it will appear as simple distortions or static,” Storm continued the plan. “If Kennedy figures out the riddle, and can access the shadow, she will devise a way to contact us. Do we try?”

  “Go for it,” Coop answered. “If we don’t hear anything back, we’re no worse off.”

  Coop thrust into Sky, who lay beneath him, matching his enthusiasm with her own. Storm did things with her mouth and tongue that alternated between intense pleasure to simple intensity.

  He kept switching from keeping his weight off Sky by propping himself on elbows, to giving in, pressing his weight against her breasts. Storm rubbed her chest against his butt, slowly working her way along his back. He felt her body lift off, a final push by her knees driving him deeper into her cousin. For a brief second he considered pulling out of Sky to switch to Storm, but the thought vanished as Storm repositioned herself on the covers layered across the floor.

  Leaning to his right, his face disappeared between her thighs. Storm began her low moaning at the same time Sky’s legs locked around his low back. Storm screamed. Coop barely heard, her thighs pressed tightly against his ears.

  He did feel Sky’s orgasm, and her fingernails rip along his shoulder blades. Ready himself, he held for Storm to climax. When she bucked, he released.

  He lifted off of Sky, moved atop Storm, and greedily plunged his full length into her. Lifting his hips, his hands grabbed Storm’s muscled legs and propped them over his shoulders. With her tilted up, he pounded the blue beauty until he orgasmed a second time.

  Storm, eyes blazing orange and red, breathing too rapidly to make her normal noises when having sex, bit down on his chest, fangs piercing the skin. She climaxed as the taste of his blood dripped onto her tongue.

  Later, as the three lay together, recovering, Storm said, “Sky needs to tell you something.”

  “This may not be the best time,” Sky said.

  “Sky has always wanted children,” Storm said.

  “True,” Sky whispered. “Maybe not as many as my mother, but at least three or four.”

  “But humans and Fellen cannot mate,” Storm said. “The sex is possible.”

  “The sex is wonderful,” Sky interjected.

  “But she cannot have your children,” Storm added.

  “I thought about adopting, and I am interested, but I know I want the experience of birthing,” Sky said.

  “Sky believes it is important that you know this, and that she loves you.”

  “I do love you,” Sky whispered.

  “But continuing a relationship would be for sex alone.”

  “The sex is wonderful,” Sky repeated. “But I must consider a Fellen as my husband. Eventually.”

  “Since everyone on Fell realizes Sky and I spend all of our time with you, it may cause Fellen males to maintai
n a distance.”

  “You can be intimidating,” Sky completed Storm’s line of reasoning. “It may be best if we begin to spend less time together.”

  “But I have never wanted children,” Storm continued.

  “True,” Sky said. “Since we were small she has promised she would never be tied down by family.”

  “I love my family,” Storm whispered. “But I want to experience as many worlds as I can. I want to take risks. I would not do such things if I had the responsibilities of a mother.”

  “Storm enjoys the sex even more knowing she will never become pregnant,” Sky explained.

  “The sex is wonderful,” Storm agreed. “I will continue to have what Mags calls ‘wild, monkey sex’ with you for as long as you will have me.”

  “And I will continue to have sex with you, just not as often, and, perhaps, not as obvious. People will begin to see us as friends, not mates,” Sky informed him.

  “I also have no problem sharing,” Storm added. “It is comfortable sharing you with Sky. We have shared everything for as long as I can remember. But I could see someone else joining us. I really like Elie.”

  “She does like Elie,” Sky said. “But it does not have to be Elie.”

  “No,” Storm chimed in. “I’m sure if you want to have sex with another female, I would find her attractive as well. You have good taste.”

  “Speaking of,” Sky said, her head lowering. Storm took the opportunity to straddle him, pushing her chest into his face.

  CHAPTER 28

  ASTER SYSTEM

  “It’s been two months,” General Kasper Trewellan, the Prophet’s military commander, said. He addressed Atticus Soren, the Sacred Prophet of the Tahbita aboard a stolen battlecruiser converted into his flying palace and command center. “What are we waiting on? Willmer could open the gates of every military installation on AF3 and we can finish this in days. We could then advance on AF1 and AF2 and conquer both with no resistance.”

  “Patience, General,” the Prophet said from his throne. Construction workers combined twelve cabins, six each on two decks, and turned them into one grand chamber with ceilings twice their normal height. “We have no need to hurry. The longer we keep them pinned in their cages, the more likely many will simply turn themselves in and join our side.”

 

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