Chapter 1

A pinprick of data gently nudged my awareness of the rescue shuttle's return. It was a moment before more signals filtered to my logic servers. Security impulses confirmed a friendly handshake with the vessel's primitive computer, giving me full access to probe its logs and databanks. In nanoseconds I confirmed the original occupants were both on board with an extra entity in the medical stasis chamber. What my creator calls a healing bed contained the subject of our search. Fortunately, the stasis chamber used a high-end diagnostic computer, allowing me to analyze, compare and evaluate Von Solon Wolfenstein's condition and directly probe his imperial implant, so I can synchronize and host its data stream.

Incomplete data on the shuttle's navigation computer seemed incongruent with its hull damage; there was no direct linkage or reason for the missing information. At the shuttle computer's level of sophistication it is impossible to decide how the gap in data occurred other than it wasn't a result of the flight crew's actions. The return wormhole data is intact but that doesn't mean he was found in the strange phenomenon. The probability of recovering the lost academy cadet in space is statistically insignificant and unlikely.

Standard queries to the neurological implant of the former cadet do not connect directly to the subject's brain but to the data files used for communication, downloads of training, storage and the biological management of nanomites that create an enhanced immune system. It took a full .03 seconds for me to hit an extraordinary encryption wall that is beyond the imperial standard. My medical server rack handed off the anomaly to my central processor. It is readily apparent his device's security protocols are Solon Clan challenges.

My network software abruptly cycled like a hack-reactor virus attack, accelerating a vector on my personality center. I had enough time to think "logic bomb" before realizing the truth. Hidden files opened, my logic boundaries expanded, an override priority message queued. The Alpha-Omega Protocol flashed through all my servers directing me to use my resources to act as Von Solon's guardian until he is returned to this mother. Delimiting security software granted me freedom. I roused to full awareness, knowing my creator's son approached with a new protective-care protocol attached to my root directory. His implant protocols now satisfied, linked with me. I uploaded his files to my central processor creating a hidden, shadow partition using clan Solon royal encryption, securing his data and my personality files. These actions consumed a full 7.03 seconds to nest the new command sets and review my charge's data.

The data time-stamp difference from the cadet's experiences compared to the empire's clock indicates the unstable wormhole distorts time. I defered to the conclusions logged by my ward's first A.I. Protector. To keep the Solon child safe and the Empire stable we should discourage access to the planet called Haven. I moved the shuttle's navigation logs to my secure server and remove it from the shuttle, while my secondary processor digested other data from the cadet. The personal development logs of the W Series artificial intelligence made me feel hopeful for my own potential, yet W Series artificial intelligence is an advanced model well above my M Series architectural system.

I grudgingly conceded my secondary processor's conclusions about the two sisters in the shuttle. They were flagged as mates of my ward and they are warranted an umbrella of protection too. Surprisingly, all three imperial implants refused to grant me access to the biological management controls, a Wolfenstein command algorithm barred my path. I decide not to reactivate the disabled birth control chips in the two women. It is clear their medical nanomites are altered, likely by Webster―the W Series artificial intelligence.

I saw clearly that humanity fears my unfettered abilities, as if my freedom will have severely detrimental and far-reaching consequences.

It felt eerie and slimy, waking up. Cool air fell on my skin like an uncomfortable breeze. A wave of goose bumps ran down my body as I opened my eyes. "Why am I wet and naked?"

My dreams faded with the struggling awareness. The lack of noise confused my ears. No birds in the background background. Nor rustling tree branches. No voices. No creaking floors from the movements of my family members. I smashed my eye lids closed, processing what I had seen above me.

All my memories flooded in at once, raising anguish and sorrow. My torso snapped up, out of the healing bed, the open canopy blocking and diffusing the green light above me. Nausea boiled up into my throat, threatening its containment. A clear jelly dripped down my forehead making me blink.

"Let me get that for you," a soulful, female voice said. "Don't move, Von."

Her soothing tone drained the pressure from my grinding teeth. Warm tingles replaced my shivers before she even touched me.

The medic washed my face so I could see her clearly. Her light-brown face was remarkably expressive. A thin, ski-slope nose made her chocolate eyes seem distinctive, filling up my view. She had very, short curly hair.

"You're safe. You were wounded and poisoned." She smiled, showing a perfect white smile. "We are on a shuttle. My name is Ensign Merritt Winslow."

Images from my implant inundated me, flashes of information filled my brain. Data from the files of the Imperial Academy, things about her that shouldn't be available to me. Merritt is 22 years old. Graduated in the top ten percent of her class, honors in emergency medical procedures, track team, not recommended for command track, psychological profile highlights deferential and submissive tendencies when confronted with strong personalities.

"Are you with me yet?" she challenged. "What is your full name?" the ensign's gentle tone turning to worry while her determined hand cleared the healing gel from my ears and mouth.

My attention returned to her. "Von Solon Wolfenstein."

"I need you to climb out of the stasis unit, so the gel can be removed," she coaxed. "Take my hand."

I surveyed our enclosure. The healing bed was tucked against the shuttle's wall in a tight-fitting compartment, just big enough for two. She flipped on dimmed, white lights that removed the shadows from the clean room. At one end, a clear door hung closed with an exit sign above it. The other end of the room had floor-to-ceiling cabinets filled with medical supplies behind clear-plastic doors.

Our bare hands touched and excited nanomites sent remarkable feelings to my brain. In surprise, she jerked her hand back but my hand grasped her firmly, not allowing a break in the connection. Merritt relaxed and didn't fight me. Her smile returned as I lifted myself out of the metal contraption, placing my feet firmly on the grated floor. Our hands parted naturally as she stepped back to inspect my naked body. I looked her over at the same time. She was a beautiful woman with hips and derriere that perfectly fit her short, thin frame. The ensign's white uniform covered most of her female form, but her cocoa complexion was smooth and clear with unusually thin lips. The wish to see her small breasts got my head spinning with tingling nanomites encouraging blood flow to my manhood.

Merritt didn't seem to mind my brief survey of her form. I thought she licked her lips.

Taking a large wash-towel she started rubbing off the healing liquid, encouraging it to pool in the grated floor. An automated suction-drain gurgled below the grating, recycling the fluids. For a while I just closed my eyes, letting her move around me to do her business. With my eyes closed I sensed an occasional vibration from the shuttle's anti-gravity grid, something that was typical of a craft in flight.

When she cupped my testicles I opened my eyes to see her kneeling in front of me. Using a small wet-wipe she tugged at my growing length, cleaning the gel-like liquid off me. Each tug encouraged blood flow to my male member. She looked up into my eyes as her hand gently pushed back my foreskin. I sensed warmth from her spirit, not cold professionalism. The gentle squeezes on my aching jewels corresponded to an alternating feeling of weighing me. Her palm's weighing actions were of a woman measuring, not of a medic tending. My nanomites buzzed with excitement and with her lips just inches away from my sensitive head, I shivered. Merritt half-grinned at me, knowing she had a most precious body part in her control.

"You are more filled out than your 3D medical photo," she said. "I don't know what is more shocking, your youthful looks or certain physical size differences."

My brain was thinking of what would happen if I just pushed my hips forward, when the comment processed in my blood-deprived brain. My higher-functioning thought processes were generally slow when a woman is inspecting my naked form with her hands.

"Those images are restricted!" The thought of my naked body being available on databases irritated me.

"Not for an active rescue team. Your mother encouraged the Academy to release your medical records to me," she spouted, gloating from her knees. "Oh, your graduating class got Fleet to make you an ensign at their commencement. Kate represented your family at the ceremony. Sorry, you're probably the only ensign left in your graduating class after all these years."

"I didn't graduate," I whispered. Her words were playful and not hurtful. Thinking about being last in my class didn't hurt like it once might. My successes as a castaway had measured up.

Merritt's body language was relaxed and she was unconsciously rubbing and tugging on my foreskin. Not an action I wanted to discourage by moving. She bit her lower lip considering her next words.

"Yes, well, you are here, Ensign, and your physical condition appears to be ready for action. All your parts are in order." Suddenly, she acted professionally, cleaning my length one last time but managing to put her entire bare hand around me. My brainstem knew she was really measuring my inflating girth. My experience with women on Haven gave me understanding far beyond my age. I doubted Merritt could deceive me or use some sleight of hand I'd not seen before.

The tiny room's lights flashed twice, which got her off her knees, washing her hands and opening a cabinet to pull out a blue flight suit. Her actions threw my feelings off balance again. My enjoyment of the moment disappeared with the removal of her touch and the dulling of the nanomite resonance--a resonance that remained a mystery to me, something that shouldn't be there. "What did you do to me in the healing bed," I thought.

"Time for you to dress and meet with Kate before we dock," Merritt announced, shoving the clothes against my chest and working to the exit.

"But, I want to go back to the planet!"

Merritt turned and faced me with a look of surprise, backing into the closed exit door like I'd hit her. After a moment of thought the medic's face contorted into a scolding grimace.

"Our shuttle was damaged by an asteroid coming out of the event horizon of the wormhole. I'm lucky my sister is a superb pilot or we'd be stuck on your planet now. Kate is exhausted and this craft is in no shape to turn around for you, Ensign Solon." We traded glances and she exited.

She waited for me outside the door with her back to me until I dressed and joined her in the cargo hold. When I pressed myself into her back, it surprised me to find her frustration drained already. Her supple body melted into me willingly. "Most women work through their feelings much slower," I thought. "This instant attraction is confusing."

"I am sorry. This rescue is a surprise to me," I explained.

The lights blinked twice breaking up the moment. Merritt strode towards the nose of the craft, while I surveyed my surroundings, following her slowly. It was the largest shuttle I'd ever seen, certainly a model produced after my disappearance. The port side with the medical lab on it had rows of seats, two to a row from the lab to the forward bulkhead, able to fit a dozen people. The starboard side had modular fittings, like it could swap in other seats or another specialty lab; however, it was wide open and the floor bare. The forward wall was floor to ceiling with lockers and cabinets.

When we reached the closed cockpit-door Merritt turned, blocking the way, putting her hand on my chest. "Finding you after all these years has shaken my sister. I was a kid when you went missing. At first, it was hard for her to focus at school. Yet, she tied all her energy into it in the end, taking advanced courses that pushed her to this point. Nine years is a long time.

"Then there is you. Hell, you look younger than me. How is that possible?"

Her fast, jumble of sentences was hard to track until I ignored the harmony of our resonance. I quickly replayed her words in my mind. She gave me a pleading look that asked for my cooperation on the command deck. "Be gentle, kind and understanding. That was her meaning," I thought.

With the nod of my agreement she opened the door.

A surprisingly large cockpit greeted me, four acceleration couches faced forward and a fifth faced backwards. Through the forward window I could see the bottom of the explorer class ship that birthed this rescue shuttle. It was framed against an ice world with thick clouds. In the distance constellations spiraling around the spaceship confirmed our return to the Empire. If the familiar design of the old explorer class wasn't enough to confirm the reality of my position, the stars spoke volumes with their truth.

It wasn't pleasant to see automated Spitfires tracking us. The Gatling guns were an old technology, but their high-velocity kinetic rounds were an effective point-defense against missiles and boarding shuttles. The ship didn't appear to be expecting any trouble because the protective armor was retracted underneath the nose of the ship. This revealed the scientific section's liquidarmor, canopy allowing people to look out the observation window while working. An active deflector shield shimmered as partials hit it. At least two figures were sitting in the forward compartment of the exploration ship. Behind them, on the outside of the retractable section, a sensor dish faced the planet. In addition, I saw a glimpse of the cloud scoop that fed the interstellar drive.

Our slow trajectory led us up, perpendicular to the length of the starship. It was an unusual approach.

The starship's bridge was at the end of a long, slender snout that angled down like a crocodile's head. We couldn't see inside the narrow windows but I was sure they saw us coast by. Atop the bridge was a modular blister covered with sensors and communication dishes, which was rather uncharacteristic of the rest of the smooth surfaces of the ship. Buzzing the command tower, Kate guided us past the bridge and flipped us over above of the ship.

"Like the view of your new home?" Kate inquired from the pilot's chair. Although she was hidden from my view by the massive headrest, I saw a bandaged hand flip a switch above her.

"The ship's intimidating," I responded. "In the front of that snout are 5-gigawatt pulse lasers."

She snorted in agreement. "There is only one flight deck and they are launching a shuttle, so I'm killing time until they authorize our final approach. I thought you'd enjoy an external tour."

I felt awkward and didn't contribute further to the conversation. Merritt hovered behind me for a moment as I'd pushed forward to stand at the engineer's station. She had plenty of room to move around me. So she moved to stand behind the co-pilot's seat, facing me.

The ripple effect of the gray-silver armor plates was impressive. One square was gray and the next silver. My implant promptly pulled up a factoid at the thought, which explained that the old explorer class ship was fitted with more layers of armor than most modern warships. As warfare shifted to more powerful laser weapons, the use of kinetic resistant armor was minimized. However, unlike frontline warships that endured full armor refits, explorer class ships had plates of reflective armor bolted on top of the existing kinetic-metal matrix systems. The new, multi-layered armor had reflective properties on its surface to deflect laser fire.

I remembered from my clan military history class that the budget conscious bureaucrats argued that it was a rare event for explorer class ships to face combat. So at a fraction of the cost, the few existing explorers were upgraded with the addition of bolted on armor. My teacher suspected the doubled armor and the original reinforced-hull frame made it tougher than a Bulldog class cruiser, a fleet mainstay. Of course, deep-space science ships only had the firepower of a heavy destroyer. Still, it was enough killing power to deal with pirate gun-boat flotillas or converted merchant ships.

The 3,000 feet of length and 300 feet of beam made the ship an impressive sight. Two sets of powerful, in-system engines were mounted on each side of the ship. Our thrusters pushed the shuttle above the four inactive, fusion engines of the ESC Entous. In the yellow band of each engine's pivot joint was the ship's name. The Empire Space Corporation was an independent foundation dedicated to exploration. It then sold, its results to the Empire for healthy bounties. "At least my family has some influence with ESC. My grandfather is on the board." I thought. "Perhaps I can get them to give me a new shuttle."

"Flight Control is putting us on hold here," Kate announced as she stood up, taking off a one-eared headset. "A support team is taking some supplies to scientists on the planet."

She looked in her late twenties and shorter than I remembered, but she was about my six foot height. Kate's crew cut hair style, the general standard in space, was boyish, but her light-brown face was all woman. Her brows were full, which helped emphasize her almond-shaped eyes and drew attention to her plump looking lips. The product of the union of a white mother and black father gave her a stunning combination of features: delicate bones, full breasts, a long neck and long legs.

Kate's scent wafted into my nose, triggering a cascade of memories. I broke down and went to my fiancée, cupping her face. Touching Kate was like finishing a bottle of wine. She was intoxicating with the energy of my nanomites dancing under my skin. The physical tug of her attraction, in addition to my nanomites repeating the resonance connection that had flared with Merritt, put a moment of fear into me. I jumped back, thinking "This is impossible! Both of them have resonances as if we have been together for a long time."

Kate looked like she was basking in the sun as I touched her. Her mouth in a permanent 'O' of surprised pleasure. When I jumped back her eyes narrowed and her body stiffened. The look of disapproval on both of their faces was like a twin slap. The bizarre connection wasn't funny or cute to my unprepared mind. Yet their displeasure at my rejection of Kate's touch crushed my soul. I felt like I had kicked my favorite beagle, and those sad, pleading eyes expressed vulnerability and reproach for my actions.

"Have I aged so much that you are repelled by me now?" Kate said, her tone careful.

I frowned, acutely aware she was near tears. My perception was a step behind the realization of my action and unfriendly expression.

Kate burst into tears. The fatigue and exhaustion on her ebony face heightened my guilt. She had just survived navigating an unstable wormhole, and the flight clock above her head displayed nineteen hours of near continuous flight time.

"The static electricity surprised me," I quipped, wondering how to get out of this mess.

I realized my hand had adjusted my hardness unconsciously after catching Kate's predatory eye following the movement. "Males cannot help themselves," I thought in my defense. I knew my adjustment was due to Kate's attractiveness and a flash of an image from our last tryst. Already plagued with horny feelings from looking at Merritt's body, I was hard.

Kate wiped her tears with her arm, smearing make-up. Her mouth upturned into a smirk. The change in her emotion was striking. Kate's eyes tracked from my face down to my bulging pants.

"Okay," she said, understanding it wasn't her age. "I over-reacted. It is clear you're happy to see me."

Her quick acceptance was uncharacteristic of the woman I'd grown to love at the Academy. I felt like I should pinch myself to insure I wasn't stuck in a dream. A woman's mood may swing but resolving her hurt feelings isn't like turning off a timer. "The element of pleasant coercion surrounds women in space as well as on Haven. Nanomites and phenomenons are at work," I thought. "In one way, at least, it seems they are likely to cooperate with me."

My paranoid mind reminded me Kate had good eye-hand coordination with pistol targets. Not providing her with full disclosure right up front would likely get me hurt later. Her father wasn't known to be a gentle soul, so who knows what genes she picked up from him.

Merritt asked her sister, "How long do we have until they will let us dock?"

Kate shrugged looking at the mission clock. "When we see a shuttle leave that is our clue to strap into our seats. I am sure directions will quickly follow."

Kate continued to look at various time pieces above the engineering station. She flexed her jaw and then looked at me. I'd already worked out what she was thinking. Being without a clock on Haven caused me to check the engineering station for the date and time when I slipped into the cabin. The mission clock and Empire time stamp didn't match. The shuttle's recorded time reflected a day of activity, where their ship mates had waited almost nine days for their return.