The Fathers Read online

  Doragon Book 1

  The Fathers

  MC Chamberlain

  Happy Dog Publishing LLC

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Why do I write Sci-Fi

  Also by MC Chamberlain

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2019 MC Chamberlain

  Happy Dog Publishing LLC

  https://mcchamberlain.com

  All rights reserved. 2019

  ISBN-13: 978-0-578-49580-4

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  To my wife. The love of my life.

  Chapter One

  My Name Is Erin Saoirse Lynn Duncanson, just Erin for short. I was born on a world called Effna 34 years past. In my time, we call planets with life, any living things, worlds. Lifeless rocks in space are just dull planets, good for resources, that's about all.

  I want to tell you about my parents. My father was a prominent man in the later days of his life. I wish he were here to see the future he believed and fought for. My mother died in the Second Purge of Humans. She foolishly traveled to Earth on a refuge barge filled with thousands fleeing the ongoing war only to die a week later with twelve billion. So, I am parentless, no blood family left. No brothers. No sisters. Not a single cousin. No one to call family. Until an extraordinary man who carried the weight of hell upon his broad shoulders took this spunky, smart-mouthed, misguided wannabe adult under his stern care.

  I remember when I last saw my father in person. We fought like children. Well, I did anyway. I was quite young and full of self-righteous hate at the time. Now I look back to realize he wanted to save me from myself, and the Holy World Crusades’ tools of interrogation. The daughter of one of the resistance leaders must have had secrets, or so the High Order thought. The next time we spoke was in Virtual Space. Because of the Hate Wars, we could only communicate through complex channels buried inside the basement of creation, so often filled with star static that I could barely hear his gruff accented voice, let alone see the smiling storytelling old man of my blood. I never heard my father cry as he did the day we connected the first time, feeling so close, yet separated by oceans of intergalactic space.

  He told me a story once when I was about six. It was about a Princess that needed to be rescued from a dragon. A Knight in shining armor came to save the Princess, but she lived in a tall tower, far above the ground, with only one window to see the world. The door had been sealed years past by a wicked black-hearted witch who placed a spell over the Princess to live unhappily under the yoke of loneliness. The witch didn’t like the Princess because, as you may have guessed, the Princess was just too pretty. So, the Knight came riding up the dirt road between the high autumn grass fields under the bluest cloudless sky, his pure heart set to save the Princess from the dragon. As with all stories of this kind, the dragon somehow knew the Knight approached the tower to rescue the Princess, all from his perch far up in the towering white-capped mountains. Good eyes for a dragon. The dragon was also under a spell from the evil black witch to keep the Princess from being rescued, no matter who or what tried.

  Well, just as the Knight stepped down from his majestic horse, the dragon swooped in. A battle ensued. The dragon spewed all his searing fire, but the Knight was too crafty and quick to be caught. Back and forth they tossed for some time until the two collapsed from exhaustion.

  “Why do you wish to save the Princess, honorable Knight?” the dragon said in his grave dragon voice. Little bits of crimson fire dripped from his broken fangs. His tongue licked tenderly at the stab wounds of the Knight's mighty sword.

  The Knight removed his dented helmet, and sweat poured from his forehead, causing his sky blue eyes to squint. The stench of sulfur and burning fields stung his lungs. “She is a Princess. She should be free to give beauty to the world,” he said with a Knight’s voice.

  “I have never seen her, honorable Knight. What if she is ugly? Will you still wish to rescue her?” asked the dragon, knowing the Princess’ beauty was the fairest in all the lands.

  The Knight thought for a moment. “It is what a Knight of the Realm is honored to do. Rescue Princesses and slay dragons. Dragons just like you.”

  “What about black witches?” asked the dragon. A deep snarl showed his disgust for the witch.

  Again, the Knight thought about it. “I would also slay her, too. Black witches are hard to catch and even harder to kill. That may take a while. Now, tell me, venerable dragon, why must you prevent me from rescuing the Princess?”

  The dragon lowered his armored, spiked head. “Because the black witch placed a spell over me. I must never let the Princess go free. Even if it takes forever. That is my curse.”

  The Knight, with no hesitation this time, took off his white glove to extend his sword hand to the dragon. “Then let you and I be as one. Two can open the tower, and two can rescue the princess. A witch’s curse will not bind me, Dragon. Then we shall turn our two pairs of eyes and considerable power to the black witch. We shall prevail. I swear my word as a Knight of the Realm.”

  The dragon was taken aback at the Knight’s proposal. He cleared his throat and looked at the tower, seeing the Princess was leaning out of the window. The Knight’s eyes followed the dragon's gaze.

  “She is beautiful,” exclaimed the Knight. “Breathtaking. I have never seen such a woman of amber hair, sparkling amber eyes, and a smile of a thousand stars.”

  “That she is, honorable Knight,” agreed the tired dragon.

  The dragon’s and Knight’s eyes met. Nothing was needed to be said. The dragon and the Knight broke down the tower to free the Princess. She was so grateful, she immediately knighted the dragon, then placed a butterfly kiss on the Knight’s lips.

  “Now, my two Knights, let us wage war over the black witch.”

  Father never got around to finishing the story. I can tell you I met the Princess. She is beautiful, the personification of love. I have also met the Knight in shining armor. Yes, he is all that the little princess stories say. As for dragons, yeah, they spit fire and are awesome.

  My father said he would tell me a new story of a princess, knights, dragons, and spaceships with lasers, worlds of new humans, space battles on a mind-bending scale. He said I would remember it all just as if I walked in his shoes, heard what his ears did, saw what his eye
s saw. Every detail needed to spread the story into the worlds that did not have hearts. He told me I would be scared by Hate and warmed by Love. He told me many secrets of the universe. My dad. And he never even finished school.

  In these books, I am honored to tell the tale of all times. All words, places, names, and technical things are presented for your understanding. Please enjoy.

  My Knight will always be my father. He died a hero. Rest in peace, my tired father. I will always love you. Just as you have taught me the universe is filled with many difficult secret truths. Secrets hidden behind the sparkling amber eyes of Love.

  Perhaps one day, I will see you again.

  Chapter Two

  Admiral Edson of World Aglualia shivered from the adrenaline that coursed through the thinned arteries of his old, tired body. Every battle he stood commander over always affected him this way. Muscle cramps rolled down wobbly legs. The pain and exhaustion flooded in, almost wiping away the feeling of sweet victory. Stumbling for a few steps until righting himself, he hoped no one saw. There were far more injured who needed assistance. The battle had gone on for fourteen ship hours.

  An ensign with shaky hands passed a spiced tea in the daintiest cup and saucer. Looking at the pretty floral designs painted bright red on the white China gave a sharp contrast to the butchering of the fleet.

  “I’m getting too old. Far too old for this, Madam Taman. One-hundred-and-nine standard years and here I am still commanding men and woman, spaceships, and the armored creatures of children’s dreams.”

  Tucking the ancient tunic of sea green world Aglualia over the Royal Freedom Fleet black-and-blue-trimmed uniform took the last bits of his strength. A long sigh escaped, lost to the drone of warning alarms. He slipped back into the soft black leather bridge command chair. The bridge was a mess. Wires, circuits, and video screens were smashed here and there. Fortunately, the near hit from a light mine did not puncture the thick armor around the bridge; otherwise, survival suit or not, they all would be space debris.

  “Admiral, do you wish medical?” asked Vice Admiral Madam Taman, her voice filled with concern for her mentor.

  He waved his bony hand, struggling to control the shakes. The little cup and saucer rattled some, perhaps because of the ship’s residual reverberations from the Titan missiles tasked to kill him and his command ship, or perhaps due to the creeping oldness of age.

  All around the dull blue combat lit bridge, viewport windows played out the scene of utter full-color destruction. Ships of all sizes in the silence of space smoldered, their intestinal innards spilled to hard space. Lifeless bodies, some frozen in horror, some sheathed in habitat suits soon to suffocate or cook inside out from free radiation. Drifting Titans’ hulls with burn holes the size of dragons. He could still see the massive creatures moving through the wreckage, breathing liquid death into any trying to escape.

  “Battle statistics, Madam Taman, please?” asked the old Admiral, his voice broken from the strain. He saw a trickle of brownish red blood on her forehead. Her black tunic was dusted with bits of debris. “Do you need medical yourself?” She shook her head softly, mindlessly wiping away the blood; her attention remained focused on the data from the AI connections.

  “All twelve Might Armada Titans are trashed. Adrift in space. The eight carriers are nothing more than scrap. Two battleships of the hundred they fielded escaped. Twenty-one offered to surrender. Boarded and secured. The rest of their fleet is either on the run or smoldering in space. We can salvage many. As for the ground troops, a least ten thousand still fight to gain access to the capital. The dragons are taking good care of their lines. Planet-side troops are moving in to assist. Master AI predicts mop up completion within two planet-side days. Our losses are extreme. We lost seven of our Titans. Twelve battleships are still space-worthy of the original forty. The count on cruisers and small ships is still in the works.”

  The old Admiral coughed hard. A sip of the spiced tea soothed his strained throat. “Good thing we did not listen to the Master AI, Taman, or we would be one those hulks floating in hard space. What of the Titan Maralade?”

  “Gone. Her drive inverted. She took several battleships with her and damaged two Might Armada Titans, putting them into limited action before the dragons put them down.” Taman removed the mind link fibers from her head. Her cheeks regained the colors she was known for, as her small slanted eyes squared on the Admiral. Edson felt the loss in his heart at the news of Titan Maralade. The Titan was named special for the Queen Princess.

  He looked at his second in command, regretting the secrets he had to keep from her. “You have many questions, Taman. I have some answers. Ask with care, as I am under the Queen's confidence. A need to know restriction.”

  Folding her hands, her eyes narrowing, voice bordering on the stern. “Since when can dragons operate in hard space? The high atmosphere I understand. I know they are thick with armor and can go long periods without breath. But how can they produce fire without an atmosphere to ignite?”

  Edson smiled. Taking a sip from the hot spice tea to steady himself, he said, “They rarely need breath as we or other living things do. They extract what they need through openings in the armor. Completely different build than any of our science understands. Look at the images from the field. You will see they have fitted canisters of enhanced oxygen. They can draw from the canister to keep oxygen in their blood, and the rest goes to making fire. I am told it’s hotter than the surface of a star. Absolutely amazing, Taman. You can rest assured that the commander of the Might Armada did not expect that when the dragons launched from our Titan’s shuttle ports. Over five hundred dragons. Fierce and filled with righteous hate.” He sipped the spiced tea again, enjoying the tingle and the surprised look on an otherwise stone-faced Taman. He couldn’t suppress a grin this time, something still quite novel, given his reputation as a gruff, demanding Navy man. “Now ask the real question.”

  “What of the Queen Princess?” She caught her tone before sounding disrespectful to the venerable man before her.

  “Ah, the question that plagues your thoughts. What of the Queen Princess’ safety. Is she at risk? Most appropriate question, Taman. Let me ask you this: How long have you known me?”

  She quickly calculated. “I’d say fifty years, Admiral. I studied your tactics at the Fathers Academy as a cadet. To know your tactics is to know the man behind the mind. I’ve followed your career with the Might Armada, and in these short years with the Royal Freedom Fleet. I know well your desire for spiced tea, especially after a battle.”

  Edson tipped his teacup to Taman. “In all the studies required of a cadet in any Navy, did you not understand the concept of worm on a hook?”

  Taman raised her bushy brows. Her little eyes squinted more. “I do not understand this illustration, Admiral.”

  “Sorry, Taman. It slipped my old mind your homeworld is devoid of oceans with fish. Allow me to explain. When one wishes to catch a fish, or whatever the prey, one can use something to lure. Or another word is bait.”

  Taman slowly nodded, and as hard as she tried to hide it, her dull silver teeth peeked out from a smirk. “I see, Admiral. The Queen Princess was the lure. The bait.” The sudden realization of what she just discovered turned her face pink with anger. The pleasant smile gave way to an unhappy frown. “She placed herself at risk. The entire rebellion rests on her. As bait? In harm's way. What if she was captured or killed? Admiral, all we have done becomes undone. All the deaths.” Her voice grew loud.

  An officer of the RFF did not speak in such a manner to a Superior, especially not a Superior like the legendary Admiral Edson. He raised a hand to stop her rant. Redder than dragons’ fire, her face turned instantly from the horror of insulting him. She well knew these new emotions released from behind the wall of old hate swung without warning, often at the worst time. Silently chastising herself to be strong and in control, she wished she were outside floating in hard space.

  The spiced tea helped the comma
nder’s voice to return. “No, of course not, Admiral Madam Taman. None of that is true. Misleading information, a ruse, a sham, all carefully placed with men and woman who gave their lives to whisper into the ears of the Fathers’ spies. The Queen Princess was never here. Her Personal Knight and General of Forces would never agree to such a risk. Yes, Taman, my old friend,” his commanding tone returned to the tired man. “We baited them. Hook, line, and sinker.” Her eyebrows, so large that they dominated her forehead, rose again in question. “Another analogy, Taman. The risk was still great. This battle was designed to bring the Might Armada to the field with the largest fleet on hand. We faced three-to-one odds. Yet here we are.”

  She thought for a moment. “The dragons. They turned the tide.”

  “Yes, they did. With a little help from technology and their millions of years of evolution. Survival of the fittest. Let us hope the Fathers and their mindless minions leading the Might Armada continue to underestimate.”

  “It is their arrogance that blinds the eye,” Taman said.

  “It is the hate that blinds all of them, Taman,” the Admiral replied. “You and I and all these true freed hearts no longer see the stars around us through the smoke of hate. The black clouds the Fathers spin are gone for us.”