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

by Don Foxe

  Subjugating the population with the promise of food, freedom from starvation, and the end of the ravages of tribal war, his troops shipped millions of Zenge to the other two worlds in the system capable of sustaining life. Any daring to fight the relocation, or attempting to disrupt the Soren initiatives died. Soren’s Mischene troopers made spectacles out of punishing dissidents, with laser weapons and overkill. They impressed upon the Zenge the futility of fighting a superior species.

  For those left on Zenge Prime, he delivered fresh livestock, wild game animals, and artificial supplements.

  The Zenge soon learned to survive, receive food, shelter, modern conveniences and simple luxuries, they must serve their Master. Anything less would result in pain, and possibly death.

  In two generations, over fifty years, the majority of Zenge came to accept Atticus Soren as the one true Prophet of the Creator. To serve him, was to honor their recently acquired religion. If a Zenge died while in service to the Creator, whether by accident or age, they achieved eternal bliss in the life after death. Should they fall in battle, they ascended as a god to the next life, rewarded with their own star system.

  During the half-century it took the younger Soren and his clerics to educate the Zenge, the military taught them how to fight, use small arms, and operate as a united force. The elder Soren spent much of his time reestablishing Tahbita Law on Aster Farum 3. Religious law as interpreted by the Fist of Tahbita.

  Opposition was silenced, or disappeared underground. The four other races inhabiting Aster Farum 3 were reduced in numbers. Secret population controls targeted groups. Millions of people relocated to education camps, and taught skills needed by the Mischene. They complied to remain alive.

  Those left behind, given jobs no Mischene would do, or placed in ghettoes, forced to survive on government handouts. Others ended in prison camps dotted around the countrysides. Prison sentences were simply extended death sentences.

  Aster Farum 1 and 2, and the five moon-based colonies watched the transitions occurring on Aster Farum 3 with concern. But there occurred no attempts by Mischene to export their beliefs or caste systems. They continued to provide protection for the AF1 and AF2 traders, and patrolled Aster System space. The news and information services made it clear the Mischene always acted as benefactors. Their religion espoused love and tolerance. If citizens of Aster Farum 3 did not break any laws, they received fair treatment, Mischene or otherwise. Stories streamed depicting people from poor races, cared for by their Mischene leaders. Video showed Tahbita clerics bringing food, water, medicine and hope to the downtrodden.

  Aster Farum 3 gave away advances in technology, which improved operating systems used by the other planets and colonies. They even provided the engineers to make the improvements, and provided on-going maintenance.

  While concern existed, there came no call for action.

  Amos Soren, older but still a powerful personality, his white hair still flowing, his dark brown eyes still all-seeing, stood before the throne, in the castle his son built on Zenge Maximus. His son, the One True Prophet, sat on plush pillows, one leg casually crossed over the other.

  “Always nice to see you, Father,” he said. “Is there a reason for your visit, or did you miss me?”

  “Atticus, you should take care you do not too fully believe in your act,” his father warned. “It would create difficulties to start over with a new Prophet, but not impossible obstacles.”

  “Just playing, Father,” the younger Soren assured his patriarch. He came down from his throne to join his sire, the true power behind the symbol of authority. “I suppose you made the trip for a purpose?”

  “We are ready for the next phase,” the newly named Supreme Governor General of Aster Farum 3 replied. “I need to test our messengers in battle. Are they ready?”

  “More than ready,” The Prophet assured him. “I have a million trained to crew, and operate smaller ships. Another 120,000 are capable of completely operating a Mischene Class One Destroyer.” [The ships Coop designated as Zenge Primary.]

  “None are ready for a battlecruiser class ship, and they may never advance to such a level. But we continue to work toward such goals." Atticus took his father’s arm. “Step outside on the balcony with me,” he said, pushing back heavy drapes, and opening a single glass door.

  The two stood hundreds of feet above a training field three-miles wide and ten-miles long. Hundreds of thousands of Zenge performing close-order marching drills, or other training activities under the watch of Mischene officers and NCOs.

  “This is one camp of one-hundred on this planet,” his son spoke with pride. “I have similar camps on Zenge Minor, and Zenge Prime. There are over one billion Zenge warriors at my command.”

  “I have located a test planet,” Amos Soren said, impressed by what his son had accomplished, but maintaining a cool demeanor. “It is infested with humanoids with no space travel capabilities. There weapons are unsophisticated, chemical based projectiles. Their level of technology is rudimentary. Mostly short-wave communications. It is two channel jumps from here, and the system gate there is located near enough for in-system travel from gate to planet to require less than two days.”

  “Population?” Atticus asked.

  “Our analysts estimate two billion. An invasion force of 250,000 of your Zenge soldiers should prove sufficient. Five Class One Convoy Battle Carriers [designated motherships by Coop] will arrive within the week.”

  “My officers will select the soldiers, and complete preparations. They will be ready to depart when the ships arrive,” the son assured the father. “You will be pleased by the results. Of this, I am sure.”

  CHAPTER 33

  “The Mischene invaded a sub-tech world?” Star’s question delivered with the disbelief obvious in her tone. “That is against the non-intervention consensus signed by every member of the Trading Alliance. Alliance worlds do not make contact with any world that has not developed the technological advancements required for travel beyond their own system.”

  “They set 250,000 Zenge on an unsuspecting and unprepared population. Indigenous armies wiped out within a few days. Sea-based navies destroyed by Mischene ships firing from high orbit. The water-born ships had no idea what hit them.” Coop said.

  “Canedee knows this is true?” Sparks asked.

  “According to Captain Canedee, he served as a training officer. He prepared Zenge soldiers for military operations,” Coop explained. “Assigned to the invasion, he led mop-up operations on the planet.”

  “Mop-up operations?” Mags asked.

  “The Zenge experienced blood lust. After years of indoctrination as the messengers of the Creator, when they finally met real infidels, represented by the Quasm, the soldiers went bat-shit wild,” Coop said.

  “The Mischene commanders were unable to stop them. In their frenzy, the Zenge forces tore through three-quarters of the population before they could be restrained. It was such a horrible experiment, the commanders decided they could not allow for it to become known. They used Aster’s advanced technology to hunt down every last man, woman, and child. They targeted and fired on Quasm hideaways from space, and sent death squads into closed-in areas, like caves, and tunnels.

  “It took months, but they left no witnesses.”

  “Coop, you’re talking about genocide of an entire planet. An entire species eliminated,” Mags said. “How could they live with themselves?”

  “According to Canedee, It was not precisely what they wanted,” Coop said. “The commanders still deemed the test successful. They modified the translator rings worn by the Zenge by adding an electrical discharge element. Their attack dogs now wore shock collars. If a soldier disobeyed an order, they could deliver enough juice to get their attention. As an object lesson to the Zenge, to insure they understood the consequence for disobeying, the put one in every five involved with the invasion to death.”

  “This is impossible,” Patric said. “No civilized society would act this way.
It is insane. An entire race cannot completely go insane.”

  Cooper turned to his ground commander. “Anton, we both fought against fanatics after the pandemic. You returned to field operations following the Space Ranger project. Maybe you should try to explain what we face.”

  The Russian nodded, stood, and walked a few steps before turning back to face those at the table. A man of action, he preferred to stand and move when addressing a group.

  “We assumed the Zenge were following an extremist agenda based on fanaticism,” he began. “We thought so because two Zenge guarding captives aboard the cargo ship we boarded during the Star Gazer conflict committed suicide, rather than be taken alive. That act is a hallmark of fanatic obsession. We were wrong.”

  “The Zenge act fanatical, but their belief system was manipulated by forced indoctrination by the Mischene. Fanatics arise when the social structures, traditions, family values they rely on appear to abandon them. In this case, all of those constructs were taken away. They were presented a Prophet who rewarded belief with food, shelter, and other necessities. These necessities were taken away if they expressed doubt, or demonstrated resistance.

  “Over time, the new overlords replaced the labors the Zenge once relied on to supply sustenance with military training. Those soldiers demonstrating prowess would be rewarded with little luxuries. The Zenge may or may not believe in the Prophet or his religion, but they know the consequences of not pretending to believe. The Zenge are fanatics by design.”

  “That explains the fanaticism of the Zenge, but not the Mischene,” King Saharri said. “For 5,000 years, the Mischene have traveled through space. They were a civilized race centuries before attaining the level of technology necessary to access wormholes. How could all of them suddenly go insane?”

  “I’m sure there was nothing sudden about it,” Anton replied. “Without knowing more about the Mischene, I can only make guesses.

  “The Mischene directly involved with indoctrinating the Zenge may well be fanatics themselves. However, Canedee’s description of his society indicates they are motivated by racial supremacy.”

  “Ordinarily, a segment within a race decides they are superior. If they gain sufficient power, others convert, become subservient, or perish. To my knowledge, at least on Earth, an entire race has never fully bought into the concept of their superiority to all others.” The Russian stopped his discourse. He took a moment to organize his thoughts before continuing.

  “It is not unusual for the majority to go along with a fanatic minority. They acquiesce to avoid becoming ostracized, or targeted, by the true believers. Supremacists exert superiority through force. It is impossible to intellectually convince someone else they are an inferior being. Supremacists are left with violence as the only means to convince others.

  “If an entire society is convinced they deserve dominion, it results in a civilization believing it is completely within its rights to take whatever they want. In this case a god-given right.”

  Colonel Gregory sighed deeply before continuing. “Add a leadership willing and capable of creating an army of fanatics to do their dirty work, and the danger is multiplied. It is one thing to stand before an enemy. It is much easier to stand behind someone else, who stands before your enemy.

  “I hope not every Mischene believes in what their leaders are attempting to accomplish. It does not mean anyone on Aster Farum 3 has the will, or the ability to fight those in power. I can say the same about the Zenge. We do not know if every Zenge wants to fight for the Mischene. We do know what happens to those who disobey.”

  Anton concluded his discourse. “The Mischene, using the Zenge, committed global genocide. Having accomplished it once, it will likely occur again.”

  “It did,” Cooper said. “One year after Quasm, they attacked a planet called Phisor. A society beginning to experiment with space travel. They utilized chemical-based rockets to travel to their moon and the planet nearest them.

  “The world was peaceful, inhabited by a single species. Canedee described Phisorans as bipedal, fur-covered, with black noses, and cat-like ears. Communications intercepted by the Mischene indicated the Phisoran as smart, industrious, and family oriented. They resided in cities, had representative governments, and were striving to develop technology to better their lives. The world had manufacturing, and agriculture. They had music and art. Theaters and sports.”

  “Did they exterminate the Phisoran?” Stacey asked, shivering.

  “No,” Coop answered. “The Mischene had control over their Zenge messengers. They still destroyed half the population. The other half work in labor camps, producing materials for the Mischene battle-machine. Their fleet transported some to the Zenge system, as food, and subjects for genetic experiments. There are several bands of underground fighters. The Mischene use the resistance groups to train Zenge in counter-insurgency tactics.”

  Stacey gagged, and fought throwing up. Sarah held her, both girls sobbing.

  “I’m sorry you have to learn about this,” Coop said. “I’m sorry you need to hear the atrocities committed by the Mischene, but we cannot allow supremacist, and fanatics to exist in shadows. Everyone must see them for what they are, or fail to understand how far you must go in response.”

  “What is the response?” Silla asked.

  “You cannot reason with true fanatics. Religious, racial, or some hybrid of the two,” Elie said. “You cannot allow yourself to believe for a second they have an ounce of regard for others. They demand respect. It is their currency, and their drug. It is hoarded jealously. At no time will they honestly reciprocate. If you bargain with a fanatic, as soon as they come to an agreement, a ‘message’ from their ‘god’ allows them to break their bond. Or they never intended to honor an agreement with an unworthy group. A fanatic will kill you simply because they think you intend to dishonor them, or their beliefs.”

  “What do you do?” Silla asked again.

  “You eradicate them,” Anton said. “You cannot leave a spark, or it will rekindle into another wildfire.”

  “But eliminating them is genocide, too.” Stacey said. Sick and scared, but remaining engaged in the discussion. Trying to learn.

  “It isn’t every person, Stacey,” Coop said. “Fanatics, on average, represent a meager number, but they frighten the majority into either accepting or tolerating them. They also attract members who seek the security and acceptance of the group, but never truly believe in the cause. When Anton says eradicate the fanatics, he specifically means those who lead, and those indoctrinated to the point they refuse to accept reason over emotion. Even with the Zenge, if you take away the influence of the Mischene, I bet most would eventually return to their previous existence. They’ve been force-fed a belief system. Perhaps their nature is warlike, and it makes it easier to abide what they do, but they are basically a tool used by Mischene overlords."

  “We face a war,” Anton said. “It’s the worst kind of war because you have one side with no consideration for collateral damage. If innocents die to advance their agenda, so be it. If innocents die because they use them as shields, so be it. If innocents die because they have been lied to, and thrown into battle as fodder, so be it. On the other side you have fighters who truly do not want innocents harmed.”

  “How do you win such a war?” Silla asked. “Doesn’t negotiating a peace present a better path? We know the Mischene are behind the invasions. We can confront them. We can form an alliance, and force them to remain within the Aster system.”

  “If they agree to negotiations, it is to provide them with more time to refine their plans,” Gregory tells them. “They will come to the table, say the correct words, and immediately begin seeking ways to destroy the alliance. You will have terrorists attacking your home worlds, targeting civilians. They will assault you through proxies, and claim to know nothing about them. A thousand branches will spring from the same tree, and each branch, a switch used to hurt you. Meanwhile, the tree pretends to have no control over its
own limbs. Terrorists, and fanatics can be fought, but if you allow politics to protect those who find, and fund the extremists, you will fight forever. A life spent at war is nearly as bad as a life spent subjugated.”

  “And what of the others within the Aster system?” Storm asked. “If we allow the Mischene to maintain control, those species and races will face horrible circumstances.”

  “While you negotiate, The Zenge will continue to multiply and grow stronger,” Sky added.

  “When they attacked Pagora, they took the first step to realizing their goal. The Mischene plan to conquer as many of the trading alliance worlds as possible,” Coop told them.

  “They cannot be beaten,” Sarah said with tears. “If everything you have said is true, they cannot be stopped.”

  “They have been beaten, twice,” Coop reminded the young Fellen. “We stopped them from taking the Star Gazer. We stopped them from taking Rys, and kept them from stealing crystals.”

  “We kicked them in the teeth on Fell,” Sparks reminded his sister. “One tiny Earth ship, with humans and Fellens, sailed through an armada, fought off thousands of Zenge, freed thousands of Fellen, and brought our family back here.” He playfully rubbed Sarah’s head when he finished.

  “They made two acutely stupid strategic mistakes,” Gregory said. “They have the majority of their assets in the Aster and Zenge systems. We know where the head of the snake is located. We will find where they train their armies.”

  “The second stupid mistake?” Stacey asked.

  “They brought Earth into the fight, and Earth is the home of the Space Rangers, and when Rangers get pissed . . .”

  “We kick ass,” Elie completed the line, and she playfully rubbed Sarah’s head.