The Quantum Leap - Part 19

Aaen felt himself regaining strength, and his eyelids looked bright red from the light he sensed coming from his surroundings. The clicking sounds were gone—now, only the sound of mechanical beeping noises, and heavy breathing from. .somewhere. . .he listened for a few more seconds. .from the right and in front of him, about ten or fifteen feet away. He lifted his head and slowly opened his eyes. The sound was distorted, and so was the light. It moved like he was looking up at a street light through the surface of the water in a swimming pool As he was waking up, his face felt sore with a flat, blunt throbbing pain on the right side of his face, and low on his left side in the middle of his cheek. Some of his muscles were throbbing and he sensed in the back of his mind that the sensation was because of whatever he had been injected with however long ago. He wondered how much time had gone by as he opened his eyes, wincing at first at a brightly-lit area—so bright, he felt like he was looking at seemed like highly-reflective objects throughout the room. He was seated on a chair that felt like metal, and he was restrained at the elbow and wrists. He was silently wondering where he was at, and why he was here—

“Tell Turkon, he’s awake,” a dark, growling voice said; the voice seemed to be all around him, but he couldn’t see who was speaking. “There were two others with you. They wore a similar uniform as you do. Where did they go?”

Aaen was curious about who was talking to him. He felt like resisting the restraints but decided to wait until he felt stronger, first, as he contemplated how he was going to answer—He coughed and struggled to ask, “What do you want. .with me?”

He barely could see motion amid the other distortions in the light: a tall, dark figure seemed to move past him as he felt a small amount of fluid running down his right nostril, seemingly stopping about halfway down.

“You were with two others like you,” a distorted voice growled, “you entered one of our ships without authorization, and reacted when we responded to your intrusion. I’m going to ask you one-more-time: where are the others that were with you?”

“If they’re not with me, they went where you’re not likely going to find them.”

Seconds later, another blunt blow straight to his gut. He felt a rush of blood to his head, dizziness, nausea, and lost nearly all strength in his legs as he crumbled as low as he could go and coughed almost uncontrollably, intermittently gagging as he felt like something was going to shoot up through his throat.

The sensation gradually went down over the course of what he guessed was a minute, but his gut still felt very sore. The temperature in the room was going up and down erratically. He felt tears building in his eyes.

“This isn’t working.” the distorted voice said, and then more of what Aaen could only interpret as gibberish followed. He guessed that was someone’s native language.

One of the dark figures stopped in their tracks and held something to their head, voice acknowledgment of something, and then walked away. They were out of sight in seconds. Despite the unpleasant feeling in his gut, Aaen wondered what the other dark figures were going to do. They seemed to be walking around without any noticeable pattern and kept checking something they were holding in their hands—something that made a sharp metallic clicking and sliding sound every time they interacted with what they were holding in front of them. The only thing Aaen knew that could make such a sound was a firearm. After the metallic sounds stopped, a mechanical humming sound would follow and last for a few seconds, and then the source of the sound was put inside something on their sides. He tried to figure out what they were holding, but it didn’t seem like much of a mystery—they were doing that on purpose. They were practicing for something. He told himself he had to stay strong. . .

A handful of them are visible. The rest were a fine white area on the screen; they resembled the humanoid shape, but there was no apparently clear shot, much less any indication that an order to fire wouldn’t motivate anyone who might otherwise be around to call in what they saw. Too much lack of certainty about the danger to the hostage getting any worse.

“All shooters acquire to capture! I need five targets green!” Storm declared into the bridge comm system. “Weapons release on my command.”

Storm observed team two’s acknowledgments of the order in nearly perfect sequence. It was pitch black outside. The other tangos were out of sight, and dozens of yards away. The tango’s radios buzzed with indistinguishable chatter as they slowly walked closer to team two’s position—Storm saw they were eight feet away and closing!

One of the tangos said something into their radio in a language Storm didn’t understand. Storm pointed to the Shadow at communications and ordered, “Get that translation!”

Looking back at the viewscreen, the tangos were five feet away.

“Execute!"

Five suppressed shots popped in near-perfect sync, hitting their targets with expert precision as the infrared targeting reticules danced erratically from the shots’ recoil. The five figures crumbled where they were. 

*****

Steve H. told Jordan Foutin, "You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."

Another reader told Jordan Foutin about his novel, DANIEL STORM, "Absolutely life changing. God bless you for this piece of art."

DANIEL STORM, a Jordan Foutin novel, is coming soon to Amazon.com in ebook, softcover, and audiobook!

Make sure to like the official StormTeam Simulations Facebook page for the latest, including when DANIEL STORM will be available on Amazon.com for Kindle eBook and softcover! Coming soon!

The Quantum Leap - Part 18

Aaen looked up again to suddenly find himself surrounded by what appeared to be several tall, dark figures. He couldn’t get an exact count because it was still so bright in this place. Wherever this was.

“Where-did-the-other-two-like-you-go?” a distorted voice asked so darkly even having to listen to the voice made Aaen feel sick to his stomach. He went three seconds without responding, and then one of the dark figures on his right approached him rapidly and punched him on the right side of his face so hard Aaen’s head jerked sharply to the left, his brain rattled in his skull and his neck immediately felt sore all the way down his throat and in his spinal cord all the way to the base of his shoulders. The feeling throbbed as he gasped hard, and felt the urge to tear from the growing numbness, on the impacted side of his face—an urge he was struggling to hide.

Another blow came from the left—this felt more like a back-hand. Aaen felt his head and neck do the same thing, with the same sensations, but this time in the opposite direction. The pop from this blow was twice as loud, and sharp. H—HEEELP! He cried silently in the back of his mind—his vision continued to blur. He realized the ‘something’ they injected him with before was still in his blood! He was trying to fight it. . .but—

One of the figures said something to the others, then they each approached him so aggressively—he felt the pressures on his arms, wrists, and ankles suddenly release, and then he was picked up by his shoulders so sharply, taken somewhere else in the room, forced to stand up on his feet, and then restrained again like he was on the ship—

Storm led the bridge team to deck one, through the bridge hatch, and then onto the bridge. Their rugged-looking apparel drew the Odyssey’s onboard bridge crew attention to them immediately. The look on Storm’s face was straight, direct, and stone-like. The bridge crew immediately backed away from their stations, noticing the looks on their faces and their pace as they approached them. Jones looked over her shoulder and announced to the rest of the bridge crew, “Captain on the bridge!”

The Shadows set their computers and connective cabling and other gear at the computer stations and connected the computers to Odyssey’s infrastructure. The graphic displays on the computers were technically detailed, visually crisp, and uploaded their operating systems virtually instantaneously.

Storm walked up to the front of the bridge past Smith who was still sitting in the center seat. Smith anxiously and nervously stood aside as Storm took a small palm-sized display from his right-front pocket and moved his hand over the device—every gesture resulted in letters, words, sentences forming on the display in bright green, crisp letters. This was much more effective and less time-consuming than writing with ink.

Smith noted Storm was keeping a brief, concise list of the steps that were taken and progress that was being made as it was happening or reported around him.

In the back of Storm’s mind, and as he was noting on the display, team two was standing by on deck two to deploy. Team two comprised of riflemen, snipers, and demolitions experts, carrying all the combat gear they would need in case force was required to complete this mission. Storm hoped that wouldn’t happen. Smith was silently hoping combat wouldn’t happen, either. They both knew whether or not combat action would be necessitated depended on those they were pursuing who had captured Odyssey’s captain.

Smith folded his arms and stood aside and quietly walked around behind Jones and Sandberg’s stations.

Sandberg was doing okay. He overheard the doctor telling Sandberg something about his nearly ready to be back at his post. Sooner the better.

“Communications, let’s get the comm-link activated.” Storm commanded directly. He relaxed his tone slightly, more than usual. He was talking to a non-special operator. To Hayes’ astonishment, the ‘comm-link’ was more than the ordinary ship-to-ship or ship-to-ground communication channel. The security was so heavily encrypted that only specific receivers can even detect that a transmission had been sent. These guys mean business.

Storm took a ‘radio’ handset from Hayes’ station. The communication channels had to be tested before team two left the ship, and the channels were so heavily encrypted that hostile eavesdropping was virtually guaranteed. They had to make sure any orders Storm gave could be heard clearly. This took five seconds. That, and he wanted to make sure he knew about any new Intel in case there was any possibility that stuff was going to hit the proverbial fan.

Sixty seconds later, Storm said, “Roger that,” and then calmly replaced the handset on Hayes’ station and returning to his standing spot where Smith used to sit. Bad was already going to worse. The aliens’ had been ID’d.

Hayes held her hands coupled in front of her mouth with an obvious look of anxiety on her face. Next to her computer, a Shadow was monitoring every communication channel within Odyssey’s communication range. Group two was dressed in their combat gear and were standing by for the order to deploy. When the order was given, the Shadows would leave the ship en-route to Aaen’s location. Heaven help any tangos between them.

“Comm-link active?” Storm asked the Shadow next to Hayes’ station.

“Affirmative!” he responded immediately.

“Let’s activate the visual link. Team two: standby to deploy.” Storm commanded out loud.

A group of organized indicators on the viewscreen turned from red to green in sequence. In less than a second, the Shadow next to Hayes’ station turned and declared, “Group two is good-to-go, sir. Visual link is online.”

Storm’s fingers moved over his handheld screen as he directly commanded, “On-screen,”

“New Horizon has deployed a recon satellite, sir! Satellite is in-position directly over the tactical zone.” The tactical zone was the general area where Odyssey and Aaen were. The image in the viewscreen changed from the dark-orange-crimson abyss of the lake’s depths (the sun was going down) to the pitch-black of deck two. “Thermal live feed coming in now!” The next sequential commands divided the screen into a crisply gridded series of squares: one orbiting military satellite showed a vast virtually pitch-black area. The image quickly became enlarged on the screen: Odyssey was in the lower-right-hand corner and surrounded by numerous, small and seemingly jagged shards of light over the visible area. In between the field of jagged shards of light were moving thermal subjects.

“Contacts detected!” Another Shadow declared next to Jones’ station.

“Let’s get an I.D. on the tangos!” Storm commanded, fingering another snippet of data into his handheld.

“Roger!” another scan was underway and finished in two seconds. Tactical and technical data appeared around the thermal contacts. “Metallic scans indicate firearms! Hostile patrols, sir!” The Shadow continued rapidly entering scan definitions to acquire more data, then he looked at Storm and declared, “Confirmed! Subjects are Feud terrorists. Patrol pattern indicates a circular route.”

The names of the terrorists appeared next to the tactical screen. Storm’s thoughts turned to team two as he faced forward, thumbing more data into the handheld and commanded, “Team-two: deploy,”

The Shadow next to Hayes’ station snapped and relayed the order.

“Sir! New Horizon is deploying orbital fighter waves. The planet will be surrounded in two minutes!”

“Check!”

“Team-two deploying, sir!”

“Check!” Storm fingered more data into his handheld as he watched the viewscreen as team two’s video feed showed the passage through Odyssey’s hull—he noted the ship’s inner-workings as they proceeded—then they began a brisk swim through the lake (the water chilled as the sun went down; technical data appeared on the video feed), and then team two emerged from the water with their rifles up as the terminator into night passed overhead. They switched to night-vision, panning right and left in front and around them as they began their tactical march to their destination with their weapons up. Their destination was highlighted on their headgear HUDs. A thumb pad on the inside of their rifles would enable them to silently and securely signal Odyssey and New Horizon if any one of them needed to declare visual contact of a tango or acknowledge an order or other radio communication. The Shadows’ HUDs also highlighted each other with a uniquely-colored haze-like effect so even hand signals would be visible, no matter how dark it was in or outside. This feature was automatic and made possible by microscopic sensors in their gear’s lining that was constantly measuring the lighting levels for each Shadow, and automatically-enabling visibility. The data was processed to a micro-super-computer in their helmets and was connected by a woven hard line into their combat suits.

Twenty meters later, team two was approaching a large brush area with trees, bushes, tall grass. . .it was almost a friggin’ jungle—SOMETHING WAS AHEAD! The leading Shadow for the group stopped and raised a fist to their shoulder. Team two immediately stopped in their tracks as a second signal caused them to take a knee in perfect sync. He activated his radio; the transmission filled Odyssey’s bridge.

“Two to Odyssey, confirming visual contact of multiple armed tangos ahead between us and the vegetation surrounding destination.” Team two’s rifles were still up, and a coded infrared beam showed they had already begun acquiring targets.

Storm eyed the video feed, noting where the tangos were, and that they were getting closer to team two, but their patterns weren’t exactly organized. They seemed casual, but attentive with both hands clutching their rifles and looking around intently. They were all wearing combat armor and appeared ready to snap and aim at the first sign of trouble. Storm immediately looked for any sign or other symptoms that the tangos were under control of foreign adverse influence, like drugs or other mind-control chemical concoction. There would be no collateral on his watch. . . No, he noted. These were actual tangos. “Team two, acquire targets. Weapons release on my command.” Storm commanded sharply. Immediately, the infrared beams shifted, quickly resting on their gun sights on target.

*****

Steve H. told Jordan Foutin, "You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."

Another reader told Jordan Foutin about his novel, DANIEL STORM, "Absolutely life changing. God bless you for this piece of art."

DANIEL STORM, a Jordan Foutin eBook, is available for $8.99 at any of these fine online retailers: 

smashwords.com (Remember to like and share!)

apple iBooks (This link is best viewed on iPhone or iPad)

barnesandnoble.com 

scribd.com 

kobo.com

blio.com

Make sure to buy your copy today, and like and share!

Make sure to like the official StormTeam Simulations Facebook page for the latest, including when DANIEL STORM will be available on Amazon.com for Kindle eBook and softcover! Coming soon!

The Quantum Leap - Part 17

The aliens call themselves a word he couldn’t so much as try to pronounce. At least not yet. He was still working on that. Even at first glance, it sounded disturbingly grizzly. For what seemed like a full minute, he felt a bitterly cold chill down and through his spine as he read—the sensation penetrated all the way to his spinal cord (tingling painfully!) and quickly from the base of his skull to his pelvis. What’s worse was the fact of ‘who’ they were working for—or ‘with’? he wondered. Someone identifying themselves only as under the code-name “Boss”. This wasn’t a ‘name’, or, frankly, a supposedly ‘hidden identity’ he hadn’t heard before. But still. That could be virtually anyone! His mind ran amok with possibilities about who ‘Boss’ could be, or who they might be. He didn’t dwell on the notion for more than a couple of seconds. The fact that was most alarming was that whoever “Boss” was, they were communicating with these aliens using some kind of original encryption that left some of the data blacked-out like an Intelligence report that anyone with a military background would recognize as a security measure to permanently and indefinitely prevent anyone else from learning something the report’s author didn’t want them to know about, for whatever reason. There were two lines of seeming jargon between legible text—maybe this was a coded image of “Boss”?. . . When he reached the end of the text, Smith snapped and looked at Heyes, “Get me Command. Now.”

She nodded and snapped, “I’m on it!”

Then, Smith immediately looked up at Connors. She was still wide-eyed and nodded subtly.

“See what you can do about recovering that image,” Smith commanded, handing the display back to Connors.

“I already have, Commander. I checked with The Union military and intelligence mainframe—three times,”

This was assuring to Smith. Connors pointed to her screen. Smith felt compelled to step up to the station and look at what she was pointing at—

“The subject’s name is ‘Christopher Quake’. He’s a human warlord,” And whose criminal background was on the interstellar level, and even a brief scan of the terrible things that monster (she subconsciously opined) was responsible for made her sick to her stomach.

Jeeez! Smith gasped hard at what he was reading, looking at the cold, sharp look on the image on the left side of the screen. This wasn’t just a warlord he was looking at, this had to be some kind of terrorist. Quake’s criminal record populated to the right of the image—the list was so extensive it reached from the top to the bottom of the screen in less than a second. . .attempted murder, assault, treason. . .He decided he was looking at a monster. He was wanted by virtually every Earth-based government and military on-record for nearly the same reasons. Smith’s thoughts immediately professionally turned to Aaen as he wondered where the aliens were taking him, and why—“Send this data to Hayes. Hayes! Transmit this data to New Horizon, on the double!” He suspected Captain Aaen Winter has become a terrorist hostage. Smith quickly anticipated the Shadows were about to take on a more direct tactical role in this situation—

“Sir! I’ve got Command on a secure channel!” Heyes declared over her right shoulder.

Smith rushed to the front of the bridge and took the handset. “Odyssey X.O.”

“The aliens are descending rapidly! Current trajectory indicates they’re heading for the south-eastern ocean next to the second-largest continent in the southern hemisphere!” Jones declared.

“Hold your course, Wilson!” Smith commanded. There would be no man left behind—

Hayes quickly relayed the data to New Horizon using an encrypted written message.

“They’re changing course again! Heading for the planet surface!” Jones declared as she uploaded the sensor data to the viewscreen. A fine, blue line started on the alien ship’s bow and extended and curved all the way to a predicted landing zone.

Smith folded his arms as he returned to the center seat, the data was still uncomfortably rolling around in his head like a couple of cold informational ‘kidney’ stones. He was worried—scared, even, that he could potentially lose a valuable and renowned crewmate. That alien ship’s armaments bordered on the equivalent of a dreadnought—a class of ship that he understood were made few-and-far-between for a very good reason, but only so many alien races had the resources to build even one. He considered the possibility of opening fire, but that would put them at risk of being detected by them—and if they were so. .dizzyingly out-gunned, that would put this ship and this crew at higher risk. One he quickly decided he couldn’t justify. His thoughts immediately turned again to the Shadows. In the Navy, when special operators are on board—that says something. And that changes everything.

A fire formed on the bow and ventral sides of the alien ship as it pushed through the planet’s atmosphere. It’s defensive matrix kept the hull intact through the searing heat, and then the ship passed through the stratospheric cloud cover, circled once, then hovered briefly and gradually over a large forest-like area a football field away from a long stretch of mountains. The trees and brush tossed and fluttered beneath it as the ship descended below the canopy—

“Confirming alien ship touchdown,” Jones declared. “The sun will be down in a few hours. I recommend heading for the ocean and then submerging to avoid lighting conflict with dusk.”

“Take us down, Wilson,” Smith commanded.

Odyssey followed their target in a near-perfect wide spiral down to 10,000 feet and then leveled out above the dense, dark cloud cover—watching as tactical indicators highlighting their target followed the target to the surface of the planet, exactly where the computer projected its course would take it. A massive dirt plume spread from beneath the target like an atomic explosion; a doughnut-shaped plume of air shot from beneath the target because of the force of the ship’s blunt, flat landing. Smith wondered, where the heck are they going?, and continued watching the viewscreen as he commanded, “Hold position, here. Keep us in the clouds. Maintain silent running. Jones, keep trying to find the captain,”

“Roger that,” Wilson and Jones replied in turn. Both were becoming professionally all-the-more concerned about their C.O.’s safety. No one wanted to lose a crew mate today, or ever.

. . .There are those clicking sounds again! Aaen lifted his head amid the pitch black darkness, trying to adjust his eyes to better see whatever might be visible. . .this effort proved to be useless—then a bright light became visible in front of him about fifty feet away. It was getting taller by the second. Aaen’s eyes were rapidly sore from the blinding white light, but he squinted at it (mildly lessening the pain shooting from the back of his eyes), and noticed a tall, blurry, dark humanoid figure appearing from the right-hand-side, seemingly turning to face Aaen—it started walking towards him as a second figure, slightly shorter than the first, appeared from the left. . .the second figure was carrying something in its left hand.

Aaen began trying to pull his hands free—the restraints were too strong and seemed to pull back proportionately with his every effort, as the first dark figure sharply grabbed him by the shoulder and by his face. Both grips felt like long nails digging into him wherever he felt pressure. Abruptly, he felt his head forced to the right.

The second figure pressed some kind of metallic device against his neck, and then Aaen felt an electric charge surge through his body, and some kind of fluid coursing through his veins. As the sensation spread, he became increasingly drowsy until he felt weak—so weak that his extremities felt weak and flimsy, almost numb. Aaen heard multiple sharp, subtle metallic clicks, and then the pressure on his wrists sudden stopped, and then his weight fell into four large arms. Aaen still had a little feeling in his ankles and his feet—he could feel he was being dragged by his arms. More clicking sounds. He was too weak to open his eyes, much less raise his head and look around at what was going on.

A sensor alert sounded. Jones snapped, “I’VE GOT SOMETHING!” she eyed the flood of data appearing on her screen. She immediately began analyzing the data as Smith turned in his chair.

“Did you find the captain?” he asked.

“I’ve got a faint bio-sign reading coming from the. . .twentieth deck. . .” her face came to within six inches of her screen as she continued, “Getting lower. . .moving aft. Looks like he’s leaving their ship!”

“Wilson! Descend to nine-five-zero-zero feet!” Smith commanded.

“Aye!” the order was carried out in seconds. “Winds are picking up! I’ll be able to keep us at this altitude for a few minutes before we have to ascend or land, cap!”

“Very well!” he reminded himself that the new sleeker, more aerodynamic hull would undoubtedly help buy them some time as he turned around and continued watching the viewscreen—it was pouring rain, heavy winds (40 miles-per-hour), and he noted two taller, dark figures were taking Aaen forcefully to an entrance in the side of a mountain. The two figures were escorted by at least—ten?—similarly-looking dark figures. Aaen looked like he had been beaten badly. His hair was a mess and the narrow visibility angle of the right side of his face revealed someone had punched him, possibly multiple times, judging by the red and yellow bruising below and near the underside of his eye. . .

“Winds are picking up, cap! Do we ascend or land?” Wilson asked directly.

Smith’s first thought was to remain hidden until the Shadows came back. . .

“Cap, there’s a deep lake about three clicks to starboard. It’s deep enough we could hide there,” Jones declared. Smith eyed the data about the lake, and then made a decision.

“Wilson, take us to the water. Make your depth one-five-zero,”

“Make my depth one-five-zero, aye!” Fifteen seconds later, Odyssey had changed course and submerged. The rain still hit the hull, but as much as the hull was not visible, the fine mist from the rain pounding the dorsal section of the outer hull would have otherwise been on the only distortion visible. He deployed the landing gear for stability. “Landing gear’s down.”

On deck two, Dimitri kept his office door closed while multiple Interplanetary Shadow Forces operators were busy changing out of their space suits and into their combat attire and checking their weapons and gear. Changing their attire took less than a minute. Once this was done, half of them began assembling and preparing their weapons and doing comm channel radio checks; the rest were collecting their specialized computer equipment that they would take to Odyssey’s bridge—all led and commanded by Storm. In a few minutes, it would be time to begin handling business.

*****

Steve H. told Jordan Foutin, "You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."

Another reader told Jordan Foutin about his novel, DANIEL STORM, "Absolutely life changing. God bless you for this piece of art."

DANIEL STORM, a Jordan Foutin eBook, is available for $8.99 at any of these fine online retailers: 

smashwords.com (Remember to like and share!)

apple iBooks (This link is best viewed on iPhone or iPad)

barnesandnoble.com 

scribd.com 

kobo.com

blio.com

Make sure to buy your copy today, and like and share!

Make sure to like the official StormTeam Simulations Facebook page for the latest, including when DANIEL STORM will be available on Amazon.com for Kindle eBook and softcover! Coming soon!

The Quantum Leap - Part 16

“Captain!” Connors called out.

Smith rushed to the base of her computer, “I’ve been able to decode most of what we were able to recover from the aliens’ computer mainframe.”

“And?”

Connors gave Smith a stiff, concerned, blank stare.

“Captain!” Hayes called out.

Smith rushed to the front of the bridge.

“I still have an uplink to the probe,” she pointed to her screen, “The signal isn’t 100%, but it's consistent.”

“What do we have?” a Shadow asked. Smith reasoned this commando was the team’s leader.

“I have a video feed overlooking the cargo storage area where they’re keeping the Olyphium. Scans indicate they’re combining the Olyphium with a radiogenic material. The combination is causing the Olyphium to become increasingly radioactive.”

Smith wondered, what are they trying to do with that stuff? The fact it was becoming radioactive indicated a few possibilities. . .

Storm’s helmet comm link clicked as a male voice said, “Alpha-one, be advised, we have a source inside the target,”

Storm activated his suit’s radio comm link with a command to his suit control panel on his left forearm. The panel was only visible through the faceplate, “Roger that,” Storm replied lowly and directly.

Smith turned around, “What was that?” he asked, “‘Roger’ what?”

“Captain, at this time, we have a source on the inside.”

Smith’s curiosity had been piqued, “’Source’?”

“We’re going to know about who they are and more about what they’re trying to do, soon,”

“Captain!” Connors called out, holding out a data panel.

Smith took the panel and began fingering through the content on the display as quickly as comprehension allowed and then raised his head, “Shoot,” he gave the display to the lead Shadow.

“Captain, based on new trajectory calculations, the alien ship is headed for the fifth planet in an uncharted solar system.” Wilson declared.

“Confirmed!” Jones added, “Reading tons of ships in that area, mostly scout ships on the facing side of the planet—I’m also detecting hundreds of orbital automated weapon platforms. They’re online and armed.”

“Any transponder identification?” Smith asked sitting in the center seat.

“Negative, their transponders are scrambled.” That can only mean one thing. Smith had the same realization.

“The alien ship is slowing!. . .According to these readings—they’re getting ready to land on the planet!”

“What?” Smith asked in surprise. A ship that big, landing on a planet was almost unheard-of. He was having a hard time believing what he had just heard, “Verify the sensor readings.”

Seconds later, Jones looked left. “All sensor data verified. Their current trajectory indicates they are getting ready to land on the planet.”

“Should I keep following them?” Wilson asked Smith.

We have to know what they’re doing, and stop them. “Maintain pursuit course!”

Storm gestured for the rest of the Shadows to follow him. They proceeded to deck two. 
Connors snapped, “Commander!” She repeated the search three times to be sure. She was still having a hard time believing what she had read. She had already begun uploading the data to a display; the data would be visible in seconds. 

Smith turned and rushed to the base of her station, noting the shocked look on her face. “Report,” he commanded.

“I know who the aliens are—and who they working for,”

“Who?”
Connors handed him the display—he immediately scanned the data as fast as comprehension would enable. His gut sank hard seconds later. 

*****

Steve H. told Jordan Foutin, "You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."

Another reader told Jordan Foutin about his novel, DANIEL STORM, "Absolutely life changing. God bless you for this piece of art."

DANIEL STORM, a Jordan Foutin eBook, is available for $8.99 at any of these fine online retailers: 

smashwords.com (Remember to like and share!)

apple iBooks (This link is best viewed on iPhone or iPad)

barnesandnoble.com 

scribd.com 

kobo.com

blio.com

Make sure to buy your copy today, and like and share!

Make sure to like the official StormTeam Simulations Facebook page for the latest, including when DANIEL STORM will be available on Amazon.com for Kindle eBook and softcover! Coming soon!

The Quantum Leap - Part 15

The icon began to inch across the screen suddenly at twice the speed that it had been. New technical details were flowing along the right-hand-side of the sensor officer’s screen, and she realized this meant telling the General something she knew he didn’t want to hear. She took a deep breath as she turned and declare, “Sir! Target is adjusting course on a new heading!”

“Where are they going?” the XO asked sharply and directly. The General turned his head and displayed an angry look.

She had already started computing the new navigational details, but the target’s course changes were virtually continuous—she realized, at best, she would only be able to report an estimate—but before she could answer, the XO stood over her shoulder and commanded, “Put their projected trajectory on screen one,”

She carried out the order immediately. Both the General and the XO scanned the data. The General was fixed on it. The XO looked at the General and recognized the look on his face—their target’s destination appeared to go in at least three very different directions, each color-coded based on computer-projected probability based on the target’s most consistent course changes. The target was maneuvering almost evasively—the General reasoned that was more a precaution than a reaction to their presence; however, they might have detected the other pursuing ships. . . Wherever the target was headed, it didn’t seem too concerned about their being pursued. But why? He wondered. Multiple possible tactical scenarios crossed his synapses—a few of the more than once.

The communications officer turned in their chair, “Sir! The Shadows have arrived on Odyssey!”

“Very well! Maintain silent running. Match target’s course and speed,”

“Aye!”

The doctor released Connors to her station. She wasn’t 100%, but she was healed enough to be able to function. She seemed slightly dazed but coherent.

“Stay with ‘em, Wilson!” Smith ordered.

“Trying! They’re accelerating at an incredible rate!. . .” he gasped, then paused. “I’m having a time trying to keep up! Can I get more power to the antigrav thrusters?”

Smith turned to find Connors back at her station. “Can you give us any more power to the thrusters?”

She looked at the readings on her screen, then turned her head and replied, “Negative. Any more power to any other system will mean we won’t have enough power to maintain stealth mode.”

That wasn’t an option, Smith had gauged the situation.

“Uh, Keptin’!” Demitri called through the bridge speakers.

“What is it, Dimitri?” Smith asked.

“We have, uh. . .guests. They’re on their vay to da bridge,”

Hayes turned around and declared, “The Shadows are onboard!”

The locks to the bridge hatch disengaged in perfect metallic sequence, catching the attention of nearly all of the bridge crew. The hatch swung open as six identically darkly dressed commandos walked onto the bridge.

Smith turned around to find one of the taller of the group had approached him and made eye contact, “Are you, Smith?” He could only see what looked like a pristine, opaque metallic facial armor plate; the speaker’s voice was seemingly digitized and coming from all around him.

Smith nodded and replied, “Yeah, I’m Smith.”

“Commander, me and my team will be remaining on board for the remainder of this mission. I am assuming operational command until further notice. You will remain in command of this ship as acting-captain until Captain Winter is safely back on board.”

Smith nodded, “Understood,” Special forces were on board—and that tone of voice. . .The protocol was correct: when special forces are on board during a time of crisis when the ship is involved, the tactical command is with the special forces team. . . For the time being, Smith was temporarily going to step aside and let the professionals do what they needed to do. This just got real. 

*****

Steve H. told Jordan Foutin, "You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."

Another reader told Jordan Foutin about his novel, DANIEL STORM, "Absolutely life changing. God bless you for this piece of art."

DANIEL STORM, a Jordan Foutin eBook, is available for $8.99 at any of these fine online retailers: 

smashwords.com (Remember to like and share!)

apple iBooks (This link is best viewed on iPhone or iPad)

barnesandnoble.com 

scribd.com 

kobo.com

blio.com

Make sure to buy your copy today, and like and share!

Make sure to like the official StormTeam Simulations Facebook page for the latest, including when DANIEL STORM will be available on Amazon.com for Kindle eBook and softcover! Coming soon!

The Quantum Leap - Part 14

At first, Aaen was dizzy—as he came to he could feel some parts of the left and right side of his face was warm despite some otherwise noticeable, intermittent numbness—a sensation that he quickly realized extended to his neck. He was still getting his bearings as he felt fatigue from the back of his eyes. The sensation made him feel tired in the back of his head, but at the same time, he felt somewhat wired and unable to act on the sensation. Wherever he was now, it was pitch black. . .and the smell.  . .it made him wince as he was regaining consciousness—is that mold. .did something die in here? He wondered. Or both? Part of him didn’t want to know as he tried looking around. He realized from a straining force pulling against the bottom of his wrists that his hands were spread above his head and bound in metal that he could tell were hanging from chains from however far above him. He couldn’t tell exactly how far. His feet were on solid ground. His uniform was fully intact. He quickly noted the headgear was missing—and he wondered what those clicking sounds were coming from in front of him about twenty feet or so away?. . . That was, at best, a guess as he heard footsteps from directly ahead, getting closer, and then Aaen felt something bluntly slam the left side of his face, then from the right, and then a blow to his gut. His head tossed both ways, and then he couldn’t help but drop his head, dazed from the blows, and he felt like he had to throw up while his gut sensation alternated like his face, but his gut hurt, now, and he started grumbling, coughing, and gagged a few times rapidly.

He could feel fluid beginning to run down his left nostril as he lifted his head.

More clicking sounds. . .“English, then?” a low, grizzly voice asked. Aaen couldn’t see a face, or discern the shape of the source of the voice—the only detail he could perceive was that the source of the voice was a few feet in front of him, and he suspected the speaker is male.

“Where am I?” Aaen asked though suspected he might already know. The answer came as subtle ominous laughter.

“Argus!” a second male voice called from farther away and to the left.

“What?” he responded darkly.

“We got word that The Union is sending ships to try to cut us off. They’re almost here,”

“What about the rest of those terrans? Where are they?” They disappeared, that was the only obvious detail. The last that Aaen knew was that the away team was right next to him when they were attacked—

“We don’t know. Our people are working on finding out. In any case, the boss sent us new orders. We’re changing course—effective immediately. He wants to see the terran,” Aaen realized virtually instantly, with a sinking stomach and a surge of anxiety, that they were talking about him. His gut told him he wasn’t going to enjoy finding out who ‘the boss’ is. He didn’t want to.

“What about the plan?”

“He said it stands. Things are going as he expected.”

“Do you think those Union ships will be able to catch us?”

“I doubt it. But even if they did, they’d be idiots to engage us. We have one of theirs onboard. They won’t risk endangering one of their own.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“I used to be one of them, remember?” he scoffed. “I was the one who tipped off boss about the Olyphium, then I stole a shuttle—” They both laughed. Aaen couldn’t understand why anyone would turn traitor against a benevolent interstellar government. He wanted to give him a piece of his mind, but was subconsciously decidedly worried about his own immediate situation, and told himself they would get theirs. Someday.

There was a pause, and then the second voice said, “Chevron wants us on the bridge.”

*****

Steve H. told Jordan Foutin, "You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."

Another reader commented about Jordan Foutin's novel, DANIEL STORM, "Absolutely life changing. God bless you for this piece of art."

DANIEL STORM, a Jordan Foutin eBook, is available for $8.99 at any of these fine online retailers: 

smashwords.com (Remember to like and share!)

apple iBooks (This link is best viewed on iPhone or iPad)

barnesandnoble.com 

scribd.com 

kobo.com

blio.com

Make sure to buy your copy today, and like and share!

Make sure to like the official StormTeam Simulations Facebook page for the latest, including when DANIEL STORM will be available on Amazon.com for Kindle eBook and softcover! Coming soon!