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

by Don Foxe

  Twelve blasts tore through the maintenance tunnel, effectively cutting off every major operational system within the battlecruiser, just as the bridge crew woke the captain regarding an open dock door.

  No more than two-hundred feet into the void of space, Mags initiated the Rys force field bubble and set sub-light drive for Aster Farum 3.

  CHAPTER 38

  ASTER SYSTEM

  Elena Casalobos sat behind her desk in the Captain’s office. She set down the data pad with updates on casualties, after-action reports on surface battles, and demands for information coming from both Space Fleet Command and the United Earth Council back on Earth. She let the tension escape with a long exhale.

  This was her office, with her bridge to her right, and her quarters to her left. She dreamed of flying through outer space in command of a beautiful ship with a trusted and valiant crew since she first heard the United Earth Council and the newly formed Space Fleet needed volunteers to create the Space Rangers.

  “Coop, you should be sitting here,” she mused aloud.

  Her communications officer on the bridge interrupted her thoughts.

  “Captain, we received a hail by an unidentified ship within the vortex. The pilot said to tell you it was Magpie, and she just stopped by for some girl talk.”

  Elie smiled, shaking her head in amusement and disbelief. “Put her through,” she ordered. “Magpie? This is Loba. It’s a little late for Christmas shopping?”

  “Hey, Elie,” came the voice she heard from the co-pilot seat of fighters for several years. “Actually, I brought you a couple of gifts. I’m on the official channel so I can dump data to you. Kennedy, you eavesdropping?”

  “I am directed to monitor all official communications, Lt. Moore,” the AI’s female voice responded. “I would not characterize it as eavesdropping. I am more of an official busy-body.”

  Over time the AI developed something of a personality, especially among humans the ship considered as friends.

  “I’m sending you a data-dump from the Prophet’s battlecruiser,” Mags said. “It has all kinds of information on everything Zenge and the plans for galactic domination. It also includes the codes for the Zenge shock collars. I believe they may help with the situation on the surface of AF 3.”

  Captain Casalobos sat straight up in her chair.

  “Madre de Dios, Mags. How in heaven’s name did you get those? You shouldn’t even be in the system yet. It’s too early to have gotten here from Fell based on when you departed.”

  “Have your Tac-Ops chair check on the two battlecruisers in the vortex,” Mags replied. “I’ll wait.”

  Elie immediately called the Tac-Op station.

  “The one we believe is the Prophet’s ship appears dead in space,” Sindy reported. “The other one is making way for the AF3-AF2 corridor and the wormhole gate located there.”

  Genna broke in to inform the Captain, “The orbital arrangement of the Aster system that creates the vortex has shifted enough for the vortex to begin losing cohesion.” In a day or two the region will return to natural space. Captain, the smaller enemy ships are only two hours away. They will be within range to use their laser cannon soon.”

  “What did you do?” she asked, already knowing part of the answer.

  “Hey, I just drove the bus,” Mags replied. “A ninja wannabe got the codes and data while some pretty boy offed the Prophet and set his ship on fire.”

  Mags told her Hiro came along, and Coop, of course, but without using names.

  “Soren is dead? Confirmed?” she asked.

  “I don’t have video, but yes, he’s dead. There are hostages on the ship, which is why it was disabled and not destroyed. Hopefully the good guys in the system can find a way to convince the Mischene on board to surrender and return them.”

  “Anything else?” she asked, almost afraid of the answers.

  “We have three of the hostages on board. They are beat up, Elie, and will need medical as soon as I can get Cassandra to you,” Mags told her. “In fact, since there are a bunch of nasty boogers between us and you, and I really don’t want to fly around them in this crap hole called a gravitational vortex, we’re going to start hitting them from the backside. You might want to warn your group. Cassie says they are in range of your weapons now.”

  “And we might hit you by mistake,” Elie said. “Go around, Mags. We have enough firepower to take them on.”

  “One, I want a shot at them. Two, you should save ammo. You may need it before you get resupplied by Earth. Three, you got no chance of hitting us, hurting us, or even seeing us. Commencing run on the enemy dumb-shits in five minutes. Can you believe they just line up like a marching band on a football pitch? Guess it’s good for us these guys just cannot get their heads around the concept of multi-dimensional space. They’ve only had like five-thousand-years. See you soon, Loba. Magpie, out.”

  Casalobos headed for the command bridge.

  “Kennedy, get pertinent data from Soren’s ship to Nadia at systems so she can enter those codes and shut down the Zenge on AF3. Inform Major Duval what is about to happen. Contact the Mischene Command Center and let them know we are going to start disabling the Zenge.”

  She entered the bridge, still giving orders to the AI. “Tell Pegasus and Roosevelt to begin targeting the incoming enemy ships. Warn them a friendly is in the same space and will be assisting. Tell them not to worry about hitting them. Target fire and not spread. We do need to conserve weapons’ stores. Save the tachyon cannons. Railguns and lasers first. Torpedoes or missiles if any of the ships get within 10,000 miles.”

  She did not wait on or need a response from Kennedy.

  “Nadia?” she called, and the systems operator gave her a thumbs up. “Sindy?” she addressed Tactical and Operations.

  “Weapons up. CDG ready on your command,” Senait responded. Elie took a moment to realize she now commanded a Cruiser Destroyer Group (CDG), the CV of CVBG out of action and sitting on AF3.

  “Targeting computers tracking port to starboard with overlaps on all three ships,” Sindy told her. “Spirit Squadron is on the ground near the Fairchild and prepared to join if requested. Covane is in touch with Duval and the surface military compounds under siege. She says if you want surface batteries to assist with the incoming armada, release the locks and they will be happy to help. No one within the system detects your friendly ship,” she added.

  “Nadia. Send the order to the shock collars to disable, not kill. Sindy, tell Covane thanks, but hold surface weapons unless requested. All vessels fire . . . now.”

  “Commencing run,” Coop said aloud. Mags, back at co-pilot, operated weapons’ targeting and utilization. Hiro stowed the women into bunks. He offered restraints, but all three paled and denied them. The high-tech gravotonics used on Cassandra should keep them secure, even during the most abrupt maneuvers.

  Earlier Coop gave Ashana the sheath to the knife. She kept it close, held her sister beside her in one bunk, and listened to everything happening.

  Coming from behind and below, Cassandra passed ship after ship as Mags used the double railguns on either side of the cockpit. The bottom barrel of each gun fired super high-velocity projectiles. She sent four at each target. She timed kinetic bursts from the upper barrels. The kinetic load would pass the projectiles, impact the targeted ship, create an opening in the electro-magnetic force fields, and cause a fair amount of damage inside and outside as the burst blasted the field. Next the projectiles arrived.

  At the speeds a railgun created, these relatively small rounds ripped through the spaceships and caused catastrophic damage as they tore through and exited. In spite of construction designed to withstand the rigors of space travel, the projectiles shredded the ships as if made of paper.

  “This is almost too easy this close,” Mags said, keeping an eye on the heads-up display.

  “The Earth ships have engaged,” Hiro called from the com-tac console. “The forward enemy ships are destroyed. Remaining ships cont
inue to fire lasers at our ships in orbit. Poor targeting by the enemy. Sonic shields are holding when a laser does make contact. This isn’t going to last long,” he said.

  True to his prediction, Cassandra removed sixty-two enemy ships using 280 of their 500 projectiles. Three of the larger ships required two passes to finish the job. The remaining 151 vessels taken out by Space Fleet fire. In spite of constant requests broadcast for surrender, the Prophet’s armada of stolen and repurposed spaceships never responded. Whether crewed by Zenge, Mischene or combinations, they all went down rather than give up.

  “Space Fleet vessel PT-dash-109, this is the independent starship Cassandra,” Mags called across an open channel. “Permission to use your hangar to land, and we require medical assistance.”

  “Granted,” came the reply. “Hangar is depressurizing. Enter when the doors open. Be warned, we have an Angel-class ship inside. Take care parking your vessel. Medical staff will meet you once we pressurize. 109, out.”

  “Can you believe that person just told me to be careful,” Mags fumed.

  “Actually, I’m the pilot, so the warning was for me,” Coop said from the left seat.

  “Yeah, well he didn’t know that,” she groused. “I bet he thought since he was talking to a girl driver he better warn me to be careful.”

  “Or he followed protocol,” Coop said, amused at her anger.

  “Or whatever,” she said and began after-action shut downs, including securing all weapons before pre-landing checks.

  “Hanger doors open,” she told him, and added, “Please be careful and not scratch Mommy’s car.”

  Coop brought the Wraith in using hovers and thrusters, setting her down on the tripods easy and safe. He gave himself plenty of room on all quarters. While they completed final checks, the hangar pressure returned and Space Fleet personnel made their way to the ship.

  Hiro met them at the rear loading ramp, recognizing and shaking hands with three of the five medical corpsmen from the 109. As they entered to assess the three women, Elie Casalobos and Genna Bouvier arrived. Both gave Hiro extended hugs. They separated as a grav-sled emerged carrying the Hana Kay female with more extensive injuries, already hooked to an IV. Her sister walked next to her, paying no attention to anyone but her relative.

  “Halt!” came an order from a UEC Ranger, with his hand up and firearm aimed at the thin woman in the drab shift. “That woman has a weapon,” he said, pointing at her hand.

  “Stand down, Corporal,” Elie ordered, and when he hesitated she added, “Now, Corporal.” She extended her right hand to the Hana Kay, palm up.

  Ashana hesitated before handing the sheathed knife to the Space Fleet officer. Her trembling hand displayed reluctance in the act.

  Elie looked over the sheath and blade, gripped the hilt, and pulled the knife out enough to see the black matte blade. As she held the weapon, Coop and Mags walked down the ramp, just behind a Mischene female, and the remaining corpsmen. Elie looked up at Coop, back at the knife, and then to the red-skinned alien. Coop simply nodded.

  “Corporal,” she said to the Ranger, “please make sure that no one attempts to take the knife away from this lady as long as she is aboard my ship.” She handed the weapon back to the shaking female in the thin, sackcloth. When she took the knife, her shakes subsided, and while she did not smile, she did not appear ready to bolt either.

  The procession of aliens, medical personnel, and guards left. Genna threw herself into Cooper, and Elie grabbed Mags in a hug that could break bones. The officer and the avatar exchanged people, leaving Genna and Mags laughing together, and Elie close to tears. She never forgot Daniel Cooper was often her rock during difficult times. For the first time in months, holding him and him holding her, she felt secure.

  Mags broke through to her when she said, “Elie, if you hold onto him five more seconds that hug will officially have lasted longer than the time it took to wipe out 213 enemy ships.”

  Before her giggle could escape, a communication came through for her.

  “Captain Casalobos, Representative Arcand is calling. He says it is urgent, Captain.”

  Elie sighed, then replied, “Tell him to give me five minutes to get to my office. Genna will make sure you each get a cabin where you can shower, change, rest, and get something to eat. Let’s plan on everyone meeting in my quarters in two hours.”

  Coop excused himself to the others, needing to do a post-engagement inspection before leaving. He hushed offers of help, and ushered everyone off the hangar.

  “Kennedy, I need a couple of favors.”

  Cassandra set down in the bay of the 99. When informed the hangar secure for exit, he left the ship via the top hatch. When he jumped to the deck, Sam Harrington waited.

  “Here to arrest me or kill me?” he asked.

  “Ask you a question,” Coop replied. “What are your plans now?”

  “You know Benny recruited me for the Camarilla Dissolvere.”

  Coop nodded.

  “I wanted UEC destroyed for fucking with my life.”

  Coop nodded.

  “I lost my family.”

  Coop nodded.

  “I was supposed to make sure Space Fleet and the UEC came out of this mission looking bad. Sabotage whatever I needed to in order to make it look as if we had no business in space.”

  Sam removed his cap, turned it to look at the Space Fleet emblem.

  “When Hawks took us into the vortex, I knew he was screwing up, but I stayed quiet. When the attack began, all I could think about was the people of my crew, and the crews on the other ships. I realized I had more than one family, Coop. I did everything I could to keep them safe.”

  “Will you continue to keep them safe, Sam?”

  “Be difficult from prison, but if I ever have the opportunity to serve again, damn straight I will.”

  “Only a select group of people know about your involvement with the conspiracy. You came in late, you came in angry and hurt, and when the time came, you protected your shipmates. If Admiral Patterson and Governor Arcand believe they owe me anything, you will continue as Captain of the FDR. If you screw up, Sam, I will come for you. I swear.”

  They assembled in the Captain’s cabin. Elie sat in the middle of her sofa with Mags on her left, sitting cross-legged, and Genna on her right, with her legs tucked under her. Hiro sat on the floor, lotus-style. Sindy joined them in the chair to Elie’s left. Coop took the chair to the left.

  “The UEC is preparing to trash the isolationist ideology,” Elie said. “The engagement was reported on by Earth’s news networks. When we turned Soren’s ambush around and not only defeated his ships, but freed the system from his threat of religious domination and control, it seems the people on Earth took personal pride in our actions.”

  “How did the news stations get hold of all of this?” Hiro asked. “This trip was known about, but everything handled under classified protocols. The CVBG under Hawks, and then you stopped official communications with Space Fleet Command to concentrate on surviving.”

  “I don’t have proof,” Elie said, “but since this was obviously a communications hack, I think there may be blue fingerprints found.”

  “The Fellens would not know which news stations to contact,” Hiro said.

  “Nadia Cosoi might,” Coop said.

  “Earth’s news channels received information, and reporters broadcast video and reports of the action. I’m sure they embellished it the way talking heads always do,” Sindy added.

  “Regardless of how it happened,” Elie interjected, “the result is the same population fearing all things bad about alien contact are now cheering our involvement.”

  Elie stretched out her legs and set her feet on the low coffee table. “Arcand says they will reopen communications with Fell and Rys soon. He expects Earth will renew alliances and trade agreements. Pam Patterson is back as Fleet Admiral, and Singletary is her number one.”

  Mags mused aloud, “I know that people and politics are fick
le, but is the UEC going to change directions with every win or loss Space Fleet experiences?”

  “What are the plans for Aster system?” Coop asked, bringing them back to the issue that affected them immediately.

  “Aster Farum 3 is under our military rule. Noa Tal is in charge, with newly made Major Covane the liaison. Duval is our ground commander. Combined forces are rounding up Zenge and placing them in POW camps. They are also trying to stop Mischene military and civilians from wholesale slaughter of the captives. Most of the Mischene extremist who worked for the Prophet and led the Zenge have been taken out by Marine and Ranger snipers. The rest will be captured or killed. A few will melt back into the general population. It may take years, or it may never happen that all of those loyal to the Prophet, or those who still believe in Mischene supremacy are identified. The races of Aster have a couple of hundred years of convoluted political intrigue, greed, religious extremism, and racial prejudice they must face and deal with. There is a civilization in turmoil, and a once united system pretty much torn apart.”

  “That sums up a bleak situation,” Coop said. “What are Pam’s plans for Space Fleet?”

  “Fairchild is lost. We will maintain the hull as a temporary command center for ground forces,” she answered. “Spirit Squadron and our ground forces will continue to support the planet’s military. Rachelle Paré and the Pegasus will return to the Mars Shipyard and Docks within the week to support the PT-89. We cannot forget several of the Prophet’s ships escaped, and there could be untold millions of Zenge warriors and Mischene extremists out there. Our solar system remains a target for them. The 99 needs extensive repairs and Aster system ship builders have volunteered to make them. ”

  “That leaves the 109 on station as the only space-worthy battleship to cover an entire system of inhabited planets and moons,” Sindy said.