Star Force: Origin Series Box Set (9-12) Page 24

  Unable to do anything even remotely like a normal workout, Morgan relished in being able to get even a little training in, reflecting on the mission as she did so. While she didn’t like the toll it had taken on her training, she didn’t regret coming. She’d actually found the change of pace refreshing, as well as being able to knock a few heads around. It wasn’t anything near as difficult as her sparring exercises, but it was live…and for so many years she hadn’t encountered anything that wasn’t specifically designed for her improvement, so tossing around a few inept security guards had been surprisingly gratifying.

  Morgan slid her bare feet wide of her body and pressed down into a full splits, feeling her tendons tight and resistive. She’d worked her body into a state of extreme flexibility over the years and was glad she hadn’t lost all of it. In fact, after a few rounds of stretches she recovered most of her bend lengths, missing only a few centimeters here and there. Her ability to recover so quickly was odd…she’d feared it would takes days or weeks to get back into the swing of things, but apparently her flexibility didn’t fall into that category.

  “Ouch,” Taryn commented when she walked in on Morgan stretched out between two chairs, hanging down from her ankles so her legs bent apart at more than a 180 degree angle with arms stretched out sideways for balance. “When did you learn to do that?”

  “Took a while,” Morgan commented, having to keep focused to keep from rolling over forwards or back. “One of the advantages of nonstop training.”

  Taryn took her shoes and socks off, then mimicked Morgan’s splits on the floor, minus the extra angle added by the chairs, and with a bit of daylight showing underneath her.

  “That’s as far as I can get. I’m usually up a few inches higher for target practice.”

  “You shoot from a splits?”

  “It offers decent stabilization when firing under low objects,” the targeting specialist said, leaning forward in her splits until her chest touched the ground. “And I prefer this if I have to be completely flat. I don’t like firing sideways when I can help it. I need to keep gravity aligned with my sights and I can pop up easier because technically I already have my feet underneath me,” she said, flexing her legs and seeming to levitate her torso up as the ‘scissors’ closed, holding her hands out in front of her as a mock weapon.

  “That I haven’t tried,” Morgan admitted, holding her stretch throughout.

  “You don’t do a lot of shooting, do you?”

  “Enough to keep improving my scores, but most of my focus is on speed, strength, and agility.”

  “It was the last time we talked. No changes?”

  “Not when it’s working and I’m continuing to level up.”

  “To what point? You’re making unbelievable progress on your core levels, but don’t you want to work on your tech skills? Even with your strength and speed, I heard Jason can still take you with a sword fairly easy?”

  “Can’t train for everything,” Morgan said, having had this discussion with others before. “My base routines run me almost 9 hours a day, so I have to divide up the rest for skill training…and that doesn’t leave me a lot of options.”

  “9 hours? Why is it taking so long?”

  “I’m running higher volumes than I used to. Only so many hours in the day.”

  “Why haven’t you just kicked up the intensity?”

  Morgan blinked, surprised by the question. “I have.”

  “No, I mean really jacked it up. If you were back in the sanctum and only had 2 hours to work with, how much higher do you think you could take it?”

  “I haven’t tried,” she admitted. “I’ve just been content to make small upgrades so long as I could maintain the volume, and those small improvements have added up over time.”

  “How many doses are you up to?”

  “18.2,” she said offhand.

  Taryn blanched. “Girl, you should be twice as strong as you are now if you’re taking that much. What’s your running level? 25?”

  “Comprehensive 28,” Morgan said, putting her hands down and tipping out of her stretch, only to reach up into a handstand, which she walked around so she could still face Taryn.

  “Well I’m at 21, and only running 6.4 doses a day. Tell me what’s wrong with this picture.”

  “Shooting doesn’t take that much energy,” Morgan said, upside down as she started doing handstand pushups with remarkable ease.

  Taryn walked over to the nearby wall and pressed her leg against it, scooting her foot up as she bent forward, reaching up into a forefoot/backfoot splits while looking down at Morgan.

  “You’re volume heavy.”

  “That’s the point.”

  “What for?”

  “To maximize hours and reduce recovery time. I don’t like sitting around when I could be doing more.”

  “You must be going nuts by now then,” Taryn commented, switching legs on her wall stretch.

  “I thought so too, but it hasn’t happened…at least not like I guessed. I actually feel pretty good.”

  “I think you got in a rut without even knowing it. You need some downtime to process, even if you don’t technically need it. Sounds like you’ve been hammering it out under less than optimal conditions just to toughen yourself up. Don’t you think it’s time to show off and see what you can do with proper rest?”

  “I don’t want to lose my training rhythm,” Morgan admitted.

  “Haha, spoken like a newb.”

  Morgan rolled out of her handstand and stood up. “What do you mean?”

  “You haven’t had very many training interruptions, have you?”

  “None at all for…several decades,” Morgan said, starting to see her point.

  “Well, the rest of us learned early on how our bodies respond to the disruptions. We snap back pretty good, so long as they don’t come too frequently. Hammer the training when you like, but don’t worry about losing it so long as you keep your intensity up. Have you been reading the training logs?”

  “I’m usually the one writing the training logs,” Morgan quipped.

  “Take a look at Jason’s. His schedule is more irregular than the rest of ours and his tips have helped me keep my fitness rising while I focus primarily on my shooting. You’ve done the full bore thing for long enough, take a break and mix it up. When’s the last time you really experimented?”

  Morgan raised an eyebrow, thinking back.

  “That’s what I thought, missy. Time for a change,” Taryn said, coming off the wall and kneeling on the ground. “Get your butt down here.”

  Morgan sighed and took an opposite position a few inches away facing Taryn.

  “Hands out,” she said, flattening her palms next to each other, then flipping her right hand over and placing it on top of her left so that the back of her hands touched, “like this.”

  Morgan mirrored her position.

  With a slow speed meant to instruct rather than awe, Taryn rotated her wrists around and clapped her hands together, taking her opposing palms, lifting them ever so slightly apart, and sliding her hands around to face one another all in one quick, fluid motion.

  “You,” she said, moving her own hands slightly out of the way given that they were kneeling so close to each other.

  Morgan thought it through for a moment then did her best to mimic the motion…but when she clapped her hands together they didn’t touch, because Taryn had somehow stuck her own hand in between in the blink of an eye.

  She pulled her hand out. “Again.”

  Morgan reset her hands, then tried to be quicker, but Taryn was still able to slide her tiny little fingers in halfway, keeping Morgan from being able to clap.

  Setting her jaw and mind to the challenge, Morgan tried again and again, with Taryn’s remarkable eye/hand coordination besting her each time. They went on like that for an hour before Morgan finally looked up into Taryn’s face and her fellow Archon raised a mocking eyebrow.

  “I feel like a stupid trainee.”


  Taryn smiled. “You’re better than the rest of us…but you’re not better than the rest of us. Teach and learn, young one,” she said mockingly to the other 80 year old.

  The 20-something face stared back at her with a sarcastic look. “And the lesson of the day would be?”

  “High volume is a training stage preceding an intensity upgrade,” Taryn said, flicking Morgan in the forehead for her stupidity. “You’re wasting hours with repetitive nonsense when you could be getting a better workout in a tenth of the time. Forget about burning calories and raising your ambrosia threshold and stick with quality. There are super Humans, and then there are Superhumans…” she said, quoting one of Greg’s more famous lines.

  “Point taken,” Morgan said gratefully.

  “Not quite,” Taryn added. “We have the message boards for a reason. I don’t see you on there very much.”

  “I don’t have the ti…”

  “Uh, huh.”

  Morgan sighed, this time in utter defeat. She had been rather shortsighted.

  “We’re a team, and even if we’re posted to different planets we can still stay connected and help each other out. We need to, if we’re going to stay sane.”

  “Alright, alright! I’ll go back into teenage rapid-fire texting mode as soon as we get back.”

  “This ship has a terminal, you know.”

  “Fine,” Morgan said, mock frustrated as she stood up then quickly reached back down and lifted Taryn up off her feet by the shoulders and hefted her up above her head with ease.

  “What are you doing?” Taryn asked, laughing.

  “Just wanted to remind you that all those hours I’ve been ‘wasting’ have been good for something.”

  “You jerk, let me down!” she said, giggling.

  “Say it,” Morgan prompted, holding on tight.

  “I’m thinking of a number?” Taryn said almost deadpan, but couldn’t help cracking a bit of a smile.

  Morgan rolled her eyes and dropped the Archon…hard.

  9

  February 27, 2107

  A shuttle was sent over to dock with the SRL and pick up Morgan, Rafa, and Taryn, then deliver them back to the Draco, Roger’s flagship, which had only arrived in the asteroid belt three days prior after a long, slow trip out from Mars. The other elements of his task force had come on ahead, with him traveling out on the battleship Smash Brothers while they waited for the massive command ship to catch up.

  “Nice work,” he offered Rafa with a nod as the trio disembarked the shuttle. “You even beat the Americans back.”

  “How close are they?” Rafa asked.

  “They’ve already begun breaking maneuvers and should be on station sometime within the next three days.”

  “How many British ships are waiting for them?” Taryn asked, floating out behind Rafa, carrying her armor in a bundle over her shoulder rather than wearing it as Rafa was.

  “About half their fleet is stationed on their edge of the border, with more arriving every day or so whenever a Cobra or Viper comes in. We anticipate they’ll have all of their task force here within the week.”

  “Why didn’t you halt the transfer order?” Rafa asked as the foursome floated their way down the zero g docking area, headed towards the large ‘needle’ at ship’s center that held the internal gravity cylinders.

  “We didn’t want to give the Americans any help. Davis is busting their balls back home, but with both their fleets here things are going to get tense. I doubt either side will just turn around and go back, especially with how much the Brits just paid for us to transport their fleet here.”

  “So you get to play peacekeeper for a while,” Taryn commented.

  “I’d like that to turn into ‘we’ for a while, if you’re willing to stick around, all three of you I mean.”

  “What’s up?” Rafa asked.

  “I have no one I can trust to lead the fleets if I have to deploy myself into boarding action. If we do get into a mess out here, I’d like the option of capturing their ships rather than outright destroying them, and I’m not sure that the two Knights I have onboard are up to the task.”

  “You think things are headed that way?” Morgan asked, bringing up the rear as they hand-walked their way down the very long hallway.

  “50/50 right now. We’ll have to wait and see how the politics realign, assuming the ship captains don’t get an itch to start something on their own.”

  “How are you deployed?”

  “I’ve got the 4th, 7th, and 8th fleets defending the two nearest starports and the surrounding civilian stations, so if they want to start a scrap they’ll have to do it further out. I’ve got a few patrols running through both the British and American zones, as well as three ships stationed on the far end acting as radar towers to discourage any more smuggling rendezvous, but there’s a lot of space to cover and our sensor range isn’t sufficient to block it all off, so I’m guessing as to the best placements.”

  “I can stick around,” Taryn offered.

  “Same here,” Morgan echoed.

  “I’ve got a couple months before I have to get back to Atlantis for training duty,” Rafa clarified. “You’ve got me till then.”

  “Appreciated,” Roger said, opening an emergency door. The ship was so big that even the internal hallways periodically had obstructions to keep any hull breach from sucking the air out of the entire ship.

  “Anyone else making a play?” Taryn asked.

  “Thankfully no, every other nation is keeping their warships at home, though they’re still operating their mining ships within the designated zones. My captains have standing orders to intervene before they’re put at risk, which I’ve been drilling the British fleet commander about on a regular basis.”

  “So we’re going to let them fight it out so long as they stay away from everyone else?” Morgan asked.

  “I don’t know,” Roger admitted. “This whole situation is fluid right now because of the intel you sent back. We’ll have to wait and see what happens after the Americans arrive.”

  “Have a seat,” Davis said as the British Ambassador came into his office, only to find the live image of the American President on a large, two-way video screen.

  “What is this?” he demanded, stopping halfway to Davis’s desk.

  “I have something to inform you both about, and I don’t care to repeat myself. Sit down,” he reiterated icily.

  The British Ambassador stared at the American through the comlink for several seconds then walked forward and pulled the empty chair a foot further aside, increasing the gap between himself and the screen.

  “As you already know from the newscasts,” Davis began, “we recently discovered an illicit, and rather large mining operation in the asteroid belt. Those corporations responsible are going public with the operation, and are acceding to our demands to keep their ships running with transponders. That doesn’t undo what’s already been done, but they’re looking to the future and trying to put a positive spin on the debacle as best they can. We, however, know the truth.”

  “Are you saying these people are responsible for the territory violations?” the President asked neutrally.

  Davis stared at the screen. “The public is already suggesting as much, but no, I’m not.”

  Both the Ambassador and the President did a double take, having expected Davis to point out that there was no need for the upcoming confrontation if neither side was to blame.

  “You have been raiding the British operations,” Davis told the American bluntly, then turned to the Brit. “And you have been raiding theirs in return.”

  “We have done no such thing…” the Ambassador began.

  Davis held up his hand for him to stop. “You see, we found your missing ship.”

  The Ambassador visibly blanched, and Davis turned to face the President. “The ship never went missing. It’s sitting in one of the corporate shipyards in the belt, being refitted for their use after the British gave it to them…o
r more accurately, traded it to them in exchange for a new smuggling ship to replace the one that you,” he pointed a finger at the screen, “destroyed.”

  Both men fell silent, caught on the carpet so to speak, with events that neither of them thought Star Force would ever know about.

  “Both of you have been engineering events to bring you into a military confrontation with each other, and I now have the proof which will be released to the media at noon today…a little over 2 hours from now. If you insist on starting a war, the public is going to know the real reasons as to why, as well as your part in establishing the covert mining operation, which both your countries will suffer penalties for, as will all the others involved. There’s not much I can do to our rivals, but I’m holding them accountable where I can. You two I expected better of…especially you,” he said turning on the Brit.

  “We have a right to defend our national interests,” the Ambassador said slowly, trying to gather his thoughts.

  “But you don’t have the right to lie, cheat, and steal.” Davis turned to the screen. “And you should have known better than to think we’d never find out. I know our relationship has been tenuous over the years, but your country has always conducted a high level of business with us, which you’ve now jeopardized.”

  “What exactly are you accusing my country of doing?” the President asked.

  “Zone violations…transponderless, untagged ships…smuggling through the Star Force transportation network…and falsified personnel IDs, which we’re only now starting to backtrack. You see, in order to keep the heavy end of the hammer from falling on them, the corporations you funded are coming clean on everything, while stating that Star Force has no jurisdiction over them. Like I said, that might fly in most cases, but your contracts with us hold you to a set of standards that both of you have repeatedly and flagrantly broken.”