Science fiction readers, have you read the Solar Warden series by Peter Fuller? No? Let me be the first to introduce you to a military science fiction series worth reading.
Everything you were taught about man’s exploration of space …
Is a lie.
Lights in the sky. Flying saucers. UFOs. UAPs. Alien grays. Alien abductions. It’s all real, and more dangerous than you can possibly imagine. In the sky above the earth and in space beyond, there’s a war raging. A secret space program, manned with futuristic technology, engages a paranormal alien threat. Named “Solar Warden,” this SSP defends earth and its inhabitants from beings bent on enslaving and destroying humanity. Earth is the target of a supernatural threat that rises from the mists of the past to bring humanity into subjugation and ultimately, annihilation. Solar Warden is the only thing that stands in the gap …
Title:
Solar Warden (Book One)
Author:
Peter Fuller
Genre:
Military Science Fiction
Book Blurb:
Everything you were taught about man’s exploration of space… is a lie.
USAF pilot Colonel Steve “Scarecrow” Richardson is injured when his F-35 crashes in the mountains of northern Afghanistan. He’s rescued by an unusual craft that whisks him up to the world of a secret space program that uses advanced “Star Trek” type technology to battle a malevolent alien foe determined to destroy humanity, all of which is completely unknown to the inhabitants of planet earth. He enlists, but must use all of his skill and experience as a combat pilot to master the advanced technology, and all of his resourcefulness to help his fellow humans overcome their alien foes, who are winning the conflict.
Throughout his struggle to adapt to his new life as a member of this secret space program, Scarecrow realizes that the enemy he and his fellow humans face have a dark, paranormal component to their existence that makes them as demonic as they are alien.
Excerpt:
“Okay, this is not good …”
Colonel Steve “Scarecrow” Richardson was in the fight of his life. Plummeting to earth, his engine flamed-out and avionics de-energized, his F-35 Joint Strike Fighter had become nothing more than a meteor plunging to the desert floor. Following his wingman – he presumed now dead amid a fireball on the ground – and having failed to arrest his own descent or restart his engine, Scarecrow reached for his ejection seat handle. He hesitated. The thought of abandoning an 89 million dollar, state-of-the-art aircraft didn’t sit well with him, especially on its maiden mission. The thing still had its “new car” smell. With one hand on the control stick and the other clutching the ejection handle, he gritted his teeth and tensed as he released the stick and with both hands, pulled the black and yellow-striped loop located between his knees.
As the canopy blasted up and was swept behind the aircraft, Scarecrow shot vertical. The rush was disorienting, until he found the horizon, illuminated by the rising moon. Slamming into the airstream at still over 300 knots with less than 3,000 feet of altitude, the air hammered him as the parachute deployed with a crack, jerking his body and slowing his descent.
The impact and explosion of his own F-35 with the ground below and ahead of him played out in slow motion. Its fireball expanded and rose into the air, reaching hungrily towards him as he swayed under the nylon canopy. The shock wave knocked the wind out of him. On regaining his breath, he realized his trajectory, driven by his body’s momentum and the prevailing winds, was taking him right into the burning crash site. Attempting to avoid the flaming debris, he shifted his weight and adjusted his chute’s directional louvers.
Just a little more … just a little further …
Reflex caused Scarecrow to pull his knees to his chest as he drifted over the flames, hoping the few extra feet would be enough to keep him from catching fire. As he passed over the burning wreckage, a minor secondary explosion thrust flames upward and for an instant, they enveloped him. Clearing the plume, he was thankful neither he nor any of his gear had ignited.
In preparation for impact, he relaxed his body, went feet and knees together, then held his breath. Landing with a heavy thud in a tuck and roll, he sprang to his feet as the chute, caught by the early morning ground breeze, began to tug at him. He snapped the release and shook the harness off his body, then spun around to see how far he was from the wreckage of his fighter. He was barely a dozen yards away.
Too close.
At this distance, another explosion could be deadly, especially as the plane’s full fuel load and ordnance cooked off. Sprinting away from the burning F-35, he began a frantic search for a firebreak or outcropping that could shelter him from a blast. There was none. Dodging brush and rocks, he raced as fast as he could away from the crash site, despite being weighed down with his flight gear.
Just when he thought he might make it to safety, the feared explosion erupted, launching shrapnel-like debris in all directions. A smaller piece hit him in the back of his HMD, cracking it open and pitching him forward to bounce and flop across the hard desert ground like a rag doll in a gale. While his helmet kept him from being killed instantly, Scarecrow still suffered a massive concussion. He managed to stop rolling, and lay face up on the packed earth. Dazed, he fought to remain conscious as flaming debris landed all around him. Unable to move, he was convinced that if he was hit again, it would all be over.
This time providence smiled on him, and he remained unscathed. When the echo of the explosion subsided, Scarecrow’s ears were filled with a loud ringing, augmenting the pain now growing inside his wounded skull.
Struggling to stay conscious, Scarecrow stared up at the sky. As he lay on the cold ground, he knew Bagram Base would be scrambling a quick reaction force (QRF). Unless they arrived soon, he also knew they would find him dead, overwhelmed by the head injury now beckoning him down into a seductive oblivion, or shot by a roving Taliban patrol.
Either way, he could no longer move, even if he wanted to. For the first time in his life, his fate was in the hands of others. Lying on the ground, Scarecrow drifted in and out of consciousness. He thought of family. His father was already gone – his mother was in an assisted living facility enduring her final days. His sister hated him, but despite her best efforts, her two pre-teen daughters adored their dashing Air Force uncle. He would miss those precocious girls.
His thoughts drifted next to his crew chief and his 18-month old daughter, Brittany. Disappointment filled his fading consciousness, because now he would never know what her first word to her father would be.
Scarecrow thought about his life. The “flashing before your eyes” you were supposed to experience just before you died. Only disjointed failures played out in his mind. His whole life had been an ongoing attempt to protect people. That was why he joined the Air Force – to protect his loved ones and his country from their enemies. However, as he relived the key events of his life in his injured mind, he realized he’d failed to achieve his lifegoal. He thought of Sam. Of Chrissy. Both disasters of his own making. Add to that the loss of a wingman, not to mention the failure of this current mission. Other pilots would have to take up the slack and complete it. The mess he would leave behind was much larger than the burning debris field surrounding him.
Scarecrow rejected the survival instinct screaming at him to fight to stay alive. His body relaxed. It was better this way. Just let go – no more mistakes, no more failures. No more Sam’s, no more Chrissies, no more Retros, no more intact Tallie weapons’ caches. The world would be better off without him. Hopefully, on the other side there would be no more guilt, no more life and death responsibilities. He longed to be free from the overwhelming remorse that had haunted him for so long.
The irony wasn’t lost on him. Even though he was a combat pilot, Scarecrow hadn’t thought much about death. At least not about his own death. This was not the way he imagined he would die. He figured he would be shot out of the sky in a blaze of glory, his demise instantaneous. No time to think about anything. Yet here he was, lying flat on his back in northern Afghanistan, unable to move, the pungent odor of hawthorn and burning jet fuel stinging his nostrils as the first rays of the morning rose above the eastern peaks, setting flight to the stars above.
Though Scarecrow was no longer fighting to remain conscious, his ears still rang, and his head felt like it would explode. He took one last look up at the sky that had been his refuge and home for so many years before casting himself into the arms of the angels who would convey him to his eternal reward. But like everything else today, that didn’t go as planned, either. In fact, he was convinced he must be hallucinating.
In the sky above him, a shadowy shape appeared from nowhere. Unlike angels with white wings illuminated by the Shekinah glory of God, this angel, if that’s what it was, was dark. Black. Triangular. Silhouetted against the night’s fading stars, it had a white light at each of its three outer points and a larger red light in the center.
That’s got to be the most unusual angel anyone has ever seen. Perhaps I’m not going up. Maybe I’m headed in the other direction. Fitting, considering the failure that was my life.
It hovered more than 50 feet in the air, spinning ever so slowly. Even though he knew it was too far away, he stretched a hand toward it. Then, as his lids became too heavy and he lost his battle to keep his eyes open, Scarecrow sank into a state of unconscious bliss, his arm collapsing over his chest.
Above him, the dark, triangular angel proceeded to descend.
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Title:
Solar Warden Book Two – Requiem
Author:
Peter Fuller
Genre:
Military Science Fiction
Book Blurb:
Earth is in peril. The Reptilians and Grays, led by their Blue Nordic overlords, have suffered a series of unexpected defeats at the hands of the humans–a species they’ve deemed inferior.
Expecting a divide-and-conquer strategy by the aliens, Solar Warden begins reinforcing its Mars base–the enemy's expected target. And the final stepping stone to Earth.
In the midst of the impending invasion, Steve “Scarecrow” Richardson and Sandy Cooper, find themselves marked for death by both alien and human foes.
Book two of Peter Fuller’s Solar Warden series finds the humans faced with an overwhelming force that will not stop until they’ve eliminated the human race. All that stands in their way is the determination and fierce will of a small group of Earth Defense Force combatants willing to lay down their lives to save humanity.
Excerpt:
Rear Admiral Louise Stanton ducked out of her stateroom and walked the 20 feet to the command deck of the Solar Warden carrier, Oleander. Named for a flower–beautiful but deadly–she thought the designation apropos. Their current mission was deploying sensor buoys in deep space between the Sol and Proxima Centauri star systems. It had been two weeks since their meeting at the Mars base, and in that time, no enemy activity was detected.
Stanton appeared to be in her mid-30s, but looks were deceiving. She was shorter than her senior officers, with a delicate frame. No one considered her beautiful, or even pretty for that matter, but her size and appearance didn’t diminish their respect for her. Her gray-blue eyes had the same devastating effect as a particle beam weapon, and could disarm even the most formidable of Red Boots. Louise Stanton was a warrior and a leader of men, and anyone who forgot that did so at their own peril.
Stanton strode onto the command and stood beside the captain’s chair.
“What have ya’ll got for me, Skipper?” Stanton said with a mild, Texas drawl. “And whatever it is, it better be good. I was checkin’ for light leaks when you roused me.”
“Ma’am, I thought you should see this.” Captain Samar Sharma motioned to the tactical display nestled amongst the numerous ARI screens at the fore of the command deck. It revealed a tiny blip some 10,000 miles off their port quarter. Stanton leaned forward, squinting as she peered at the wraith-like display.
“It’s too small to be a mother ship … what’s the tactical readout on it?”
“Admiral, it’s a lone enemy tactical-reconnaissance saucer.” Sharma’s TAO, Lieutenant Commander Aaron Clarke said as he brought up the bogey’s vital information on the tactical screen.
“What’s it doin’ out here all alone, Aaron? Where’s its Mother? Skipper, have you scanned for any other enemy assets in the area?”
“Yes Ma’am, but there’s nothing else within sensor range. It appears to be a lost puppy.”
“Lost puppy or not, take it outta my sky, TAO.” Stanton offered a dismissive wave of her hand and slumped back into her own chair, beside, but slightly behind the captain’s.
“Aye, Ma’am. Charging weapons now. Locking weapons … wait a moment.” Clarke peered up from his console. “Sorry, Admiral. It’s jumped to FTL. It’s gone.”
“Sensors, track it. See where it’s headed. Maybe it’ll lead us to its Mother.”
Fifteen minutes later.
“Looks like our lost puppy is back, Admiral,” the TAO said. “It just dropped out of FTL. It’s taken up position exactly where it was the last time–approximately 10,000 miles off our port quarter.”
“Is it still alone, or are there any other assets with it?”
“None, Admiral. It’s alone.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want a dozen mother ships de-cloaking right on top of us.”
“We’ve got nothing on sensors, Ma’am.”
Stanton stared at the displays, pensive. She tensed. “Helm, plot an intercept course. TAO, raise shields and charge weapons, but don’t paint it. Let’s see how close we can get to our lost puppy.”
“Moving to intercept, aye.”
“We’re weapons hot, Admiral,” the TAO said. “Shields are at full strength.”
The tactical display showed the tiny red dot that was the saucer, being approached by a larger green dot that was Oleander, its transponder code following it across the tactical display. When they reached a distance of 5,000 miles, the tiny red dot began to move away, matching their speed.
“Helm, increase speed.”
“Increasing speed, aye.”
The red dot matched their speed, not allowing them to get any closer than 5,000 miles.
“Go to one half light-speed, helm.”
“Increasing to one half light-speed, aye.”
The red dot maintained its distance.
“Overtake it, helm. Whatever speed necessary.”
“Aye, Admiral. Approaching light-speed.”
“That did it, Ma’am,” Sharma said. “It’s jumped to FTL again.”
“What the–?” Stanton exclaimed. “This is odd. I’ve never seen anything like this.” She sighed, perplexed. “Alright. Helm, resume previous heading and speed.”
“Returning to previous course and speed, aye.”
Another 15 minutes later.
“It’s back again, Admiral,” Sharma said. “Right where it was the last two times.”
“I’m tired of this cat-and-mouse game,” Stanton replied. “Just ignore it.”
Twenty minutes later, the saucer was still holding its position, 10,000 miles from Oleander.
“Captain, it’s beginning to transmit a message,” the comm officer said.
“To where? Is it calling for re-enforcements?”
“No Ma’am. It’s sending a message to us. On a neutral frequency.”
“Wash it through our translation program, Comm.” Stanton said. “Let’s hear what our lost puppy wants.”
It took a few moments, but the lieutenant had a translation. “I’ve got it Admiral, but it doesn’t make any sense. The translation program must not be able to accurately interpret the message.”
“Well what does it say, Comm?” Stanton asked with a frustrated bearing.
“It’s only four words, Ma’am. It just keeps repeating, over and over. The same four words.”
“Ya gonna keep us in suspense all day? What’re the four words?”
“Give … Me … Bird … Frightener …” The lieutenant had his head down with his hand over his earpiece. “That’s it. It just keeps repeating.”
Captain Sharma glanced over at Stanton with a surprised air. The expression on Stanton’s face morphed from frustration to stunned realization. She rose from her chair and stared at the tiny red dot on the tactical display.
“I know what it means …” she said under her breath. Stanton stood frozen for a moment, then turned and walked towards the hatch. “Skipper, what’s Nautilus’ position?”
“She’s at Deep Space Platform Six, taking on troops to augment the Mars Base.”
Stanton paused before exiting the command deck. She stared once more at the tactical display. “Comm! Get me Admiral Reynolds of Nautilus on a secure channel and patch it through to my office, ASAP!” She ducked out the hatch and headed for her office, located just down the passageway, right next to her at-sea quarters.
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Title:
Solar Warden Book Three – Genesis
Author:
Peter Fuller
Genre:
Military Science Fiction
Book Blurb:
Just when you thought there was a light at the end of the tunnel …
Think again.
A ticking time bomb, an enemy that will stop at nothing, untested technology and a spy who targets Solar Warden in a way they never imagined. Earth faces unprecedented dangers and challenges as the reptilians and grays change their tactics and up the ante to a threat level never before experienced.
Newly promoted Lieutenant Colonel Sandy Richardson harbors a dark secret Scarecrow is intent on discovering. Meanwhile, the Solar Warden team is hoping the detection of a damaged enemy vessel will lead them to the source of recent, lethal attacks. The discovery of alien intel points the humans to a surprise none expected, while the entire Solar Warden team is left reeling at the sudden death of a beloved comrade.
Book Three continues Peter Fuller’s Solar Warden saga with alien wolf packs harassing the human fleet with deadly results. Scarecrow and his comrades retaliate as they discover the true nature of their enemy. There will be no capitulation, no treaty, no quarter. Evil has taken a new form ...
Excerpt:
“Report, Lieutenant.”
The major peered through his magnification display as he crouched behind the low rise overlooking the sprawling enemy base. He surveyed the scene before him as intel from his VISOR (visual interface system, ocular readout) streamed across the interior of his face shield. Back home, his nine-to-five was taking down the worst, most dangerous, most reprehensible bad guys planet Earth had to offer. He had been recruited to command this mission because he excelled at his job.
“Everyone’s in position, Sir,” the lieutenant said as he shimmied up to his CO on his hands and knees. He rolled onto his side and held up his tablet, activating it and surveying the schematic of the marine platoon’s deployment.
“Any sign of enemy activity?”
“No, Sir. The area is silent. It’s kinda weird …”
“How so?”
“Well Major, I would’ve expected some drone sentry patrols, perimeter sensors, an electronic fence–something–anything. They don’t even have any surveillance cameras we can detect. It’s like they don’t think they need to monitor the exterior of this facility at all. Like they didn’t think we could ever mount an assault like this.”
“Or that we would ever be so bold …”
“Exactly, Sir.”
The major went silent. Pensive. Something didn’t feel right. The last time his gut churned like this was right before the platoon he was commanding in Afghanistan was ambushed by a group of Taliban masquerading as women wearing burkas. He’d lost six good men in that fiasco. But that engagement was over two years ago. Now here he was, serving in an ultra-top-secret program on a moon orbiting a gas giant in a star system over four light years from Earth. And the enemy he and his men now faced made the Tallies look like a Boy Scout troop.
He wondered if 50 Marines would be enough. The mission was straightforward–they were to infiltrate the perimeter of the enemy facility, deploy and set charges around the power plant, the hangar bay, and the main gun emplacement. Once they detonated their ordnance, the Solar Warden carrier Archangel could move into position and destroy the rest of the facility.
They’d flown in under cloak with stealth engaged, and to their knowledge, they’d arrived undetected. All 50 Marines had moved with silent caution into position behind a small ridge overlooking the northern perimeter of the enemy facility. They’d spent the last two hours scanning for any sign of surveillance activity. They’d detected nothing, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist.
“Is Alpha Team ready?”
“Awaiting your green light, Sir.”
“Bravo and Charlie?”
“They’re good to go. All three teams are in position and awaiting your orders.”
The major hesitated as he continued to scrutinize the exterior of the facility through his magnification display. His VISOR gave range, elevation, energy output, all the pertinent tactical information–but the life-signs indicator was blank. The lieutenant was right–there was no enemy activity detected. At least none their sensors could confirm.
“All right,” the major sighed at last. “Alpha Team has a green light.”
“Aye, Sir.” The lieutenant switched to another comm frequency and relayed the order.
What have you gotten me into, Linds …? the major thought. He watched Alpha Team glide forward like specters across the barren landscape separating the Marine strike force from the enemy facility. Only half in the three squads had integrated stealth suits, so they opted not to engage them. There was no cover to speak of, and the squad did their best to remain inconspicuous despite the open ground.
Alpha Team, comprised of four stacks, reached the first building and pressed themselves against the outer wall, their helmeted heads bobbing back and forth as their eyes darted about for any sign they’d been detected. Bravo and Charlie were still on the platoon’s flanks, awaiting the order to advance.
Then, without warning …
The Marine platoon found themselves surrounded by hundreds of enemy troops. The huge alien figures appeared from out of nowhere. As if conjured from thin air. Startled, the Marines hesitated, if only for a heartbeat. Half a heartbeat. But that was all the enemy needed. The moment they materialized, with their weapons raised, they opened fire on the Marine platoon. Alpha Team, pinned against the wall of the facility building, didn’t get the opportunity to respond or defend themselves. Their body armor could withstand the blast from a single enemy directed energy weapon, but the hapless Marines were being struck by numerous blasts at once. The fearsome barrage ripped them apart. The major watched with shock and horror as the enemy force slaughtered his men without mercy.
“Ambush!” the major screamed into the comm. “Fall back, fall back, fall back!”
The major scrambled to his feet as he fumbled for his rifle slung across his shoulder. His lieutenant was already on one knee returning fire, when he exploded in a blinding flash. The lieutenant’s body disintegrated, spraying the major with blood.
The major staggered back and raised his own weapon, but a second blast caught him out of the corner of his eye. He spun around to see their Marine delivery vehicle (MDV)–once cloaked and invisible–appear and vaporize as two enemy vessels, hovering above it, released a deadly salvo, depriving the major and his Marines of any hope of escape.
The major spun around again, opening fire on a group of enemy soldiers decimating Bravo Team to his right. Before he could offer any kind of effective assistance, he felt a sharp blow to his helmet from the rear. He pitched forward, his face smashing against the interior of the transparent aluminum face shield as it contacted the hard surface of the ground. Warm liquid running over his mouth and down onto his chin, coupled with severe pain told the major his nose was broken from the impact. He rolled over onto his back and prepared to engage whoever or whatever had struck his six.
Through the waves of pain, he stared up at a giant of a figure now straddling him, encased in its own hideous, alien-looking environmental suit. The massive form, silhouetted against the black, star-encrusted sky, loomed over him, pointing its otherworldly weapon right between his eyes.
The major tossed his rifle to one side and spread his arms in capitulation as his comm echoed with the screams of his dying men …
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Title:
Solar Warden Book Four - Skinwalker
Author:
Peter Fuller
Genre:
Military Science Fiction
Book Blurb:
You’ve heard the expression, this is the stuff of nightmares …
You have no idea.
The reptilians, the grays and their overlords have had enough with the humans. Their plans and agenda have been forestalled, and now they must go to extreme measures to get back on their timetable.
The Solar Warden team is targeted like never before. New, almost invulnerable enemy craft create dangerous challenges across the fleet with deadly results. A new alien threat, just as impervious and wickedly devious, sets its sights on Scarecrow and anyone who gets in its way–friends and loved ones are not immune. Nothing in the Solar Warden arsenal can defend against this new, supernatural threat. Scarecrow and his comrades must hope they can enlist the aid of a supernatural ally of their own in time.
Book Four is a scare-fest that will have you checking under your bed and in your closet for monsters too hideous and evil to describe. There’s only one way for the Solar Warden team to confront this new threat, and they watch their comrades succumb one by one to its diabolical assaults while searching for a means to neutralize it. Time is running out …
Excerpt:
Hutch burst through the hatch to Nautilus’ engine room with Mitchel, Vickers and their teams hot on his six. Their expressions were a mixture of fear and desperation, their movements, frantic.
“Spread out!” Hutch shouted as he motioned with his arms while the group approached the massive MFD array. “We don’t know how much time we have, and this bomb could be anywhere.”
The black gang was startled by the invasion of security officers and Red Boots. All work ground to a halt as they turned and peered at the group.
“What’s goin’ on, CAG?” the Cheng (chief engineer) shouted across the chamber as he approached Hutch.
“Did the Admiral come in here a short time ago, Cheng?”
“Yeah, ‘bout 20 minutes ago. He was carrying a case–”
“Did you see where he went?”
“He walked behind the MFD, over there.” The Cheng motioned to the starboard side of the huge toroid, near one of the rear gyroscopes. “I was busy with a power transfer module, and the admiral ordered me to ignore him. I didn’t notice what he did.” The Cheng’s voice increased in intensity and volume as Hutch and several of his group rushed over to where the chief engineer had indicated.
“What’s this all about, Hutch?” the Cheng shouted across the expanse as several of his gang converged around him with perplexed expressions.
“Found it!” one of Vickers’ Red Boots shouted.
Like a swarm of flies to honey, the searchers gathered around the Marine as he crouched down to examine the ordnance. Hutch, Vickers and Mitchel elbowed their way to the front of the group.
“The fuse has a motion sensor,” the Marine said, his voice cautious. “If we try to move it, it’ll detonate.”
“Just over three minutes,” another Marine said as he pointed to the timer.
“Even if we could move it, that’s not enough time to get it to the transporter room,” Hutch said. He stood and glanced around him, his mind reeling as he attempted to think of a solution.
“What are we going to do?” one of Mitchel’s men asked with a nervous air.
The chamber went silent for a moment, while the entire team held their breath, their minds reeling as each of them struggled to conjure a solution.
“I’ve got it!” one of the Red Boots said. Everyone started at the unexpected outburst.
“We can use this.” He produced an emergency medical transporter. “We’ve already re-configured it to transport the skinwalker off the ship. We use it on the bomb instead.”
“Then what are we going to use on the skinwalker?” someone else asked.
“We just re-configure another one.”
“We won’t have to,” Hutch said. “That snakehead crony has probably already transported off Nautilus. It’s not going to hang around while this thing goes off.”
The CAG turned and tapped his comm.
“Nautilus Command, CAG. We have a bomb onboard. I say again, we have a bomb onboard Nautilus. It’s set to blow in less than three minutes. We can get it off the Boat, but it will be too close to us, and it’ll still be inside Nautilus’ shield canopy. When we extract it, I need the helm to jump us to FTL, and put us on the far side of the moon. Confirm, over.”
The comm was silent for a moment.
“CAG, Nautilus Command. Transferring you to the XO, over.”
“No! There isn’t ti–”
“CAG, XO. What is your situation, over?”
“We have a bomb onboard. It’s strapped to the primary MFD and its going to blow, in …” He glanced down at the timer. “Two minutes. We can transport it off Nautilus, but we can’t get it far enough away. When we’ve transported it off, order the helm to FTL to the far side of the moon. To a safe distance. Confirm, over.”
“CAG, XO. Say again. You have a bomb–?”
“Dammit, Franks! If this bomb detonates inside the Boat, it’ll tear Nautilus in half! Now when I give the word, FTL to the far side of moon. Confirm, over.”
Silence once more.
“Sir …” The Marine stared at Hutch with concern, his hand holding the emergency medical transporter as it hovered inches above the ordnance, ready to attach it. “Let’s just get this damned thing off the ship, and deal with the XO after.”
“Yeah, but if we don’t FTL far enough away, it’ll still blow a hole in the side of Nautilus the size of a TR-3B,” someone else said.
“Do it!” another replied.
As the Marine snapped the device onto the side of the bomb, everyone watched it vanish while Hutch leaned into his comm once more.
“XO, CAG. Execute FTL now. The bomb is off Nautilus. I say again, get us the hell out of here. We have less than a minute. Execute FTL now. Confirm. Over!”
Seconds ticked away as everyone held their breath, waiting for Franks to respond. Hutch was just about to repeat his command, when …
“CAG, XO. Roger that. Engaging FTL now, over.”
The MFD spun up and released a loud hum as Nautilus jumped to FTL, but it was only for a moment. As suddenly as it had engaged, it went inert once more.
Everyone present released a collective sigh of relief, and some patted each other on the back.
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Author Biography:
Award-winning author Peter Fuller worked in the Military History Department of the Glenbow Museum in Calgary, Alberta, Canada for eight years. He has studied military history for decades, written numerous articles and lectured at major museums and universities on the subject of military history. He has also been a regular panelist at NORWESCON since 2017. He has studied the UFO phenomenon since grade school. He is a member of the Mutual UFO Network (MUFON), and has had a few "close encounters" of his own. Most recently, he interviewed the son of a United States military officer about his late father's work on several special access projects for the secret space program.
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