The Cure
Copyright© 2019 by QM
Chapter 35
Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 35 - What if you can cure the incurable, including restoring the dead flesh of a re-attached severed limb? How? Well, that's the rub, isn't it? The secret is in your sexual emanations and only works when reacting to the environment of a vagina.
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Ma/ft Mystery Restart Science Fiction
Commodore Flasko was irritated. He’d been pulled from his bed and given orders from Fleet to assist the Destroyer Harrock who was facing a situation with the Regnat caused by civilians. His temper was not eased by the turning up of a similar sized flotilla from the Regnat who were demanding that their kidnapped Blademaster be returned to them. Nor had Captain Bennought of the Harrock been co-operative in over-ruling the civilians on his ship over the matter of one of them having the ear of the Empress, who, in defiance of the reality of the situation, had stated that the Blademaster was not to be handed over.
“Damned fool woman is going to start a shooting war,” he huffed to his senior captain.
“Bennought was clear enough that the Blademaster was not under coercion and was fleeing a coup, sir,” Captain Aolan replied carefully, concealing his disdain at Flasko’s timidity in his first independent fleet command.
“I really do not care. It’s not the Imperial Navy’s job to get involved in other Realms politics and Amantil should know this!”
“Your intentions, sir?” Aolan replied, still hiding his irritation.
“As I told Blademaster Vicklon, we’re waiting for instructions from Fleet HQ where I’m damned sure they’ll override this jumped up Empress and her misunderstanding of reality!”
“Communication from Fleet HQ,” the Comms Officer chose that moment to chime in.
“Send it through; let’s see if they’re seeing sense.”
Both officers saluted as Senior Admiral Zastri appeared in the tri-dee tank.
“Report!” Zastri ordered.
“Regnat are demanding we return their kidnapped Blademaster and his daughter. My recommendation is that we do so and smooth over this idiocy, sir,” Flasko replied.
“Was he kidnapped?”
“He claims not to be, sir,” Aolan replied.
“Then why haven’t you told the Regnat where to get off?” Zastri frowned. “If he’s claiming asylum and he’s in non-territorial space we have an obligation to help. Article of Imperial Compassion 2347#4.”
“It will probably set off the war the Regnat have been itching for for the last two years,” Flasko warned. “As commander on the spot I recommend against keeping him.”
“Noted but over-ruled, due to the Article, as you well know. Blademaster Tanell has been granted asylum by the Empire. He is not under any circumstances to be handed over. That is Amantil’s order to Fleet Command and she will not brook any leeway in that order. Nor will I.”
“She’s going to get good men and women killed!” Flasko exploded.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, that’s part of the job description! Plus, Amantil is the Commander-in-Chief of all armed services and can, if necessary, order a war! We have or are sending reinforcements to your position; they’ll be there in five hundred rotations. Until then try not to start a war; do not retreat or permit further pursuit and do not hand over our guests either, even if it means starting a war! Understood?”
“Yes, sir. Under protest, sir,” Flasko snapped back.
“However you wish it; but you will obey!”
The image vanished leaving a very angry Flasko to mull over his orders. “Contact this Vicklon, tell him no deal. Move the Harrock to the centre of the formation and sound battle stations. Prepare for combat.”
“Yes, sir!” Aolan barked, relieved that someone in Fleet had some sense, as over-ruling Amantil was a very, very bad idea, particularly as Flasko was ignoring the presence of a Cure and the Imperial bodyguard along with a very important asylum seeker.
“Regnat flotilla is moving into attack positions,” Comms announced.
“Shields to full. No one to fire unless we are fired upon,” Aolan ordered.
“Yes, sir!”
“Order the Vestra to launch their bombers and fighters,” Flasko ordered. “Get them to hold formation but plan strikes against the Regnat Corvettes, as they’ll no doubt lead the way.”
“Yes, sir,” Aolan replied and started rapidly giving out orders to the various Comm Officers dealing with fleet command.
“God help us all if they start something because we provoked them,” Flasko stated getting a few concealed incredulous looks from the bridge officers.
“They have moved into a defensive formation around the Destroyer we suspect has the former Blademaster Tanell in it,” Bladesman Jikki stated, irritating Vicklon in pointing out the obvious and letting the bridge crew know he’d miscalculated.
“Chances of a successful attack?” he asked.
“Poor. That’s a Battlecruiser, it outguns practically the entire flotilla, plus the Empire will be sending reinforcements ... they always do when involved in a situation with us.”
“I suspect you underestimate the fighting skill and weaponry of the Regnat,” Vicklon dismissed the information. “Move to engage their outer ring. Let’s see who blinks first.”
“Regnat are moving to attack our flank,” Aolan stated
“Prepare to retreat,” Flasko ordered.
“Sir?”
“I’m not prepared to lose a single man to these Regnats, not over such a triviality. You heard my orders!”
“Sir, Admiral Zastri ordered us not to retreat!”
“He’s not here, I am. Now carry out your orders!”
“I cannot in all conscience obey that order, sir. They haven’t even fired upon us.”
“Bridge Trooper! Arrest Captain Aolan. Charge is refusing to obey an order from a superior officer.” Flasko gave the order to the duty Trooper on the bridge. “Confine him to his quarters pending an enquiry.”
“Sir!” the Trooper replied. “Your sidearm if you please, Captain Aolan.”
Aolan unsnapped his holster and handed over the pistol in the utterly silent bridge. “I’ll see you at ‘your’ board of enquiry, Flasko,” was all he said before leaving the bridge.
“Sound the retreat, let’s go,” Flasko ordered the now sullen bridge.
“Yes sir,” the senior Comms Officer replied in flat tones.
“Why are we retreating?” I asked out loud.
“I do not know, David,” a frowning Janilla replied. “Perhaps they were ordered to so as not to start a war?”
“They’ll get one if they do retreat,” Tanell commented. “The Regnat will see this as confirming weakness. It’s how our military think.”
“Yes,” Renna added. “They will channel their fleets down the Corridor and lay waste to every world they can safely attack.”
“Hold on, something’s up,” I broke in.
The fighters and bombers launched by the fleet carrier, instead of landing in the bays of the carrier, had launched themselves towards the fast approaching corvettes of the Regnat and were clearly vectoring an attack pattern and had locked on with their sensors. This caused the Regnat fleet to veer away wildly, to dodge the attacking fighters and head back to their original station.
“Who ordered that attack?” Flasko almost screamed at the senior Comms Officer.
“No one, sir,” the nervous officer replied. “Seems the fighter bravos took it upon themselves to counter the move by the Regnat. It also made them retreat, looks like they were running a bluff sir.”
“They could have caused us thousands of casualties if they’d engaged! Order them arrested once they land!”
“Yes, sir,” the clearly unhappy Comms Officer replied.
Blademaster Vicklon stood in stony silence on his bridge. “For a second I thought they were going to retreat,” he muttered.
“I suspect it was a ploy to try and draw us in closer, sir,” Bladesman Jikki replied.
“Nearly worked, their outer shell hid the fighters all too well.”
“Yes, sir”
“Order the withdrawal. We clearly cannot win here and provoking the Empire beyond a certain point will only lead to the destruction of this flotilla. It’s clear they are prepared to defend themselves.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Regnat are withdrawing, sir,” the senior Comms Officer announced.
“They were bluffing?” Flasko stated the obvious looking like the wind had been knocked out of his sails whilst wondering how he could redeem the situation he now found himself looking at.
“Yes, sir. As Captain Aolan suspected, sir.”
“Do not talk of that insubordinate extremist. He would have had us embroiled in a war the Empire does not need!”
“Call from Captain Fergo on the Fleet Carrier Vestra, sir,” the Comms officer changed the subject, knowing Flasko had probably commanded his first and last flotilla.
“I have ordered the flight crews to be detained on landing,” Fergo stated from the tri-dee globe. “However I must protest your high-handed actions and will, if necessary, defend them myself.”
“They disobeyed orders, there needs to be consequences,” Flasko replied, noting the lack of a salute, but with his career seemingly crashing down around him it was the least of his worries. He still couldn’t believe he’d got it so wrong!
“Regnat fleet have reached XD limit and have gone, sir,” the senior Comms officer reported. “Detecting Imperial reinforcements. Admiral Vertook commanding. They’ll be here in thirty rotations.”
Flasko groaned inwardly. Vertook was one of the promotion board who’d spoken out against him, pointing out his total lack of experience in combat and diplomatic situations, with Flasko having progressed through the ranks in First Fleet on the relatively quiet border with the Brancha realm. An alien confederation who, though hostile to the Empire, did not cross their borders unless provoked, something the Empire was well aware of, hence did not.
“Inform them of the situation, if you please,” Flasko stated.
“Well, that went well.” Janilla stated with a slight frown showing she did not believe it was a planned ambush.
“Yes, I wonder who ordered it?” I mused out loud as the wall opened and Captain Bennought and his XO entered, looking mildly annoyed, though not at us, I might add.
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