Starship Insurgent (The Galactic Wars Book 6) Read online

  Starship Insurgent

  The Galactic Wars Book Six

  Tripp Ellis

  Tripp Ellis

  Contents

  1. Uia

  2. Emma

  3. Slade

  4. Ryan

  5. Emma

  6. Ryan

  7. Ryan

  8. Ryan

  9. Emma

  10. Emma

  11. Ryan

  12. Emma

  13. Ryan

  14. Emma

  15. Ryan

  16. Walker

  17. Ryan

  18. Emma

  19. Ryan

  20. Emma

  21. Ryan

  22. Emma

  23. Ryan

  24. Emma

  25. Ryan

  26. Emma

  27. Ryan

  28. Emma

  29. Ryan

  30. Emma

  31. Ryan

  32. Emma

  33. Ryan

  34. Emma

  35. Ryan

  36. Emma

  37. Ryan

  38. Emma

  39. Ryan

  40. Emma

  41. Ryan

  42. Emma

  43. Ryan

  44. Emma

  45. Walker

  46. Emma

  47. Walker

  48. Emma

  49. Walker

  50. Emma

  51. Ryan

  52. Emma

  53. Emma

  54. Emma

  55. Emma

  56. Emma

  57. Emma

  58. Emma

  59. Emma

  Thank You!

  Connect With Me

  Copyright © 2016 by Tripp Ellis

  All rights reserved. Worldwide.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents, except for incidental references to public figures, products, or services, are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental, and not intended to refer to any living person or to disparage any company’s products or services.

  No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, uploaded, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter devised, without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  1

  Uia

  Jason Kaplan pulled up to the guard gate of the UIA building in a sleek red De Luca Velocetta. It was a much more expensive hover-car than someone of his pay grade could normally afford. Plush leather interior with hand-stitched seams. Sleek instrumentation. Racing seats. An Omni-Dynamic ™ surround system. Sensuous curves. It was everything a sports car should be. It smelled like leather and oil, and even had the rumble of an old combustion engine, despite being powered by a fusion battery cell.

  Every bit of his paycheck must have been going towards the monthly note. And he probably stretched the payments out to 84 months. He was going to be so upside down on the thing, but he didn’t seem to care.

  He held his ID badge through the window to the guard. The card trembled ever so slightly, dangling from Jason’s fingertips. His body was covered in a thin mist of sweat, and his underarms had dampened his shirt. His heart was thumping in his chest, but he tried to hide his nerves. He forced a smile. “Morning, Rick.”

  “Morning, Mr. Kaplan,” the guard said as his eyes narrowed at the ID card. He was decked out in full tactical gear and was armed with an RK 909 assault rifle—standard military issue.

  He looked over the picture, then compared it to Jason. It was definitely authentic. It was a ritual that happened everyday, and even though he recognized Jason, the guard scrutinized him with the same intensity day in and day out. That was his job, and he took it seriously. He wasn't just singling out Jason, he did it to everyone. The Center for Intelligence was a crucial part of Federation security.

  The guard scanned the card and handed it back to Jason. “Have a good day.”

  The guard opened the gate and Jason drove the Velocetta into the parking lot. He breathed a little easier. But there was another, more stringent, security checkpoint that he would have to get through.

  He backed into a parking space and killed the engine. He sat there for a few moments, taking slow deep breaths in order to calm himself. His eyes gazed at the above ground portion of the UIA building. It was affectionately referred to as the Hive. It was one of the Federation’s most secretive compounds, with roughly 1,600,000 square feet. It housed approximately 9,000 military and civilian employees, along with 600 non-defense support personnel. The surface structure was only four stories tall, but there were nearly 20 stories of underground offices and facilities. The complex sat on roughly 250 acres and was surrounded by a lush forest. Beyond that was a high electric fence ringed with razor sharp concertina wire. There were guard towers on each corner.

  The compound wasn’t an easy place to gain access to. It was one of the most heavily fortified buildings in the galaxy. Even to set foot in the parking lot, you had to pass extensive background checks. To become an employee of the UIA, the company would dig so far into your past that they were sometimes known to interview delivery nurses, or so the rumor went.

  Jason was just an average guy. Short brown hair and brown eyes. Born on New Earth in Arivada. Graduated the top of his class at Vanden. He finished UIA recruit training with high marks and had been working at the agency for about six months. By all accounts, he was living the Federation Dream. But the bomb hidden in the briefcase on his seat told a different story.

  The briefcase itself was made of an explosive compound called Metamite. It was a combination of a metal, a fuel, a primer, and a metal oxide. When triggered, it would undergo an exothermic reduction-oxidation. The amount contained in the briefcase was the equivalent of a 1 megaton nuclear blast, but without the fallout. More than enough to obliterate the UIA building.

  Metamite was virtually undetectable, and could be formed into almost any shape. It was expensive stuff. Certainly not easy to come by. The amount of Metamite in the briefcase easily cost upwards of 4,000,000 credits on the black market. Much more than Jason could have afforded on his own.

  He snatched the deadly briefcase from the supple leather seat and stepped out of the car. He closed the door behind him. It shut with the solid click of a well-crafted vehicle. It gave the sensation that the car was engineered to perfection. It was a shame. If all went according to plan, the entire compound would be incinerated. The Vellocetta probably wouldn’t survive the blast.

  2

  Emma

  Today was the worst day of Pete Carver’s life, but it sure didn’t start out that way.

  Casey slinked in the doorway of the bedroom wearing skimpy lace lingerie that accentuated every breathtaking curve. If the price was blindness, you’d still look… twice. Casey was a sight to behold. She looked like a model straight out of the pages of the Valeria’s Secret catalogue. A black bra made her ample endowments seem even more so. Her crystal blue eyes smoldered. Her raven black hair danced at her shoulders. Her plump lips were inviting. This was a woman who could make a dead man take notice. The kind of woman that could make a man’s IQ drop. The kind of woman who never heard the word no. How Pete Carver ended up marrying her was still a mystery.

  Pete Carver was just an average guy. Handsome, but nothing special. He wasn’t the kind of guy you’d see modeling designer underwear. He didn’t have pecks carved of stone and scalloped abs. He was an affable guy with a forgetta
ble face and shaggy brown hair. Kind of a dork. Soft around the mid-section. He was funny though, and quick with his wit. He could make Casey laugh. And, perhaps, laughter is the best aphrodisiac.

  Today, Casey didn’t need an aphrodisiac. She was primed and ready to go.

  Pete wiped the sleep from his eyes and tried to focus on his wife. He was just as enamored with her as the day they met. But what the hell was she doing, he thought? He squinted at the clock—shit, it was 6:45am. He needed to be at the office at 7:30.

  “I have the day off. We can stay in bed all day. Be really, really naughty.” With each word her voice grew more breathy and seductive.

  Pete’s heartbeat rose, and his pulse pounded. He cringed with regret. “I can’t,” he stammered. “Got a briefing with the Directorate of Intelligence.”

  “Brief him later.” Casey wasn’t about to give up. Her velvety words slid from her luscious lips. “I need you to brief me now.”

  “It’s a matter of Federation security,” Pete stammered.

  Casey huffed in mock indignation. “Fine. I’ll just have to call my boyfriend.”

  Pete scowled at her. His face turned red. The veins in his neck started to protrude. He knew she was teasing him, but the thought of her with another guy made his stomach turn. He tried to play it cool. “Please, if you had a boyfriend, I’d know about it.” He grinned.

  She arched an eyebrow at him. “You don’t know everything.”

  “I kind of do. It’s my job.” He grinned again. Pete was a signals intelligence analyst with the United Intelligence Agency. He’d been working with the counter-terrorism unit for the last two years. The UIA had a massive database of all electronic communications that passed through Federation networks. Voice communications were automatically transcribed and were keyword searchable. It wasn’t exactly legal. Without a warrant, the data couldn’t be used in a court of law, but it sure could pinpoint people who might need further scrutiny. Pete got many requests from friends to snoop on spouses with suspicious activity, but Pete always declined, citing UIA regulations about unauthorized use of a government database. He always told anyone who asked him to spy on their spouse the same thing—if you think your wife is cheating on you, she probably is.

  “You better enjoy this body while it lasts,” Casey said, getting down to brass tacks.

  Pete’s face twisted up, perplexed. “What does that mean?”

  “See, there are some things you don’t know.” She crawled onto the bed and straddled him.

  “Like…?” His curiosity was certainly peaked.

  She hesitated for a moment, then decided to just blurt it out. “I’m pregnant.” She smiled, hoping he’d smile back.

  Pete’s eyes went wide, and he had a blank look of terror on his face. He was speechless for what seemed like an eternity. Then he stammered, “How do you know?”

  “My daily bio-monitor detected a change in hormone levels.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m so excited. This is what I’ve always wanted. I love you,” she mocked. “Those would all be appropriate responses right now.”

  Pete swallowed hard. “Yes to all of those statements.” He smiled. “I love you. This is amazing!” He took a second to catch his breath. “I was just a little stunned for a moment.” He paused. “Is it a boy, or a girl?”

  Casey shrugged. “I want it to be a surprise.”

  “Okay. But we could plan better if—“

  Casey’s scowl shut him up.

  “Okay. Surprise is good.”

  She kissed him. Her plush lips felt like heaven. She practically moaned the words, “Are you sure you can’t call in sick.”

  Casey had his full attention. She nibbled at his ear, and he could feel her steamy breath on his neck. It was getting hard to focus on anything else.

  “There’s… been… a lot of… chatter—”

  “Shhh.” She planted her lips on his, shutting him up. “Maybe it’s the surge of hormones, but I’m really horny.”

  Pete could feel his willpower caving in. But he tried to muster his resolve. You didn’t just skip meetings with the Directorate of Intelligence. “Something really big is about to go down,” he stammered distractedly.

  Casey slid her hand down his torso, gripping the thing she was after. Her eyes lit up with a lascivious glint. “Really big?”

  Pete’s IQ was already dropping. He could barely form a coherent sentence. “We’re expecting a major terrorist attack within the next few weeks.”

  This got Casey’s attention. “Where?”

  “We don’t know for sure. Probably a high value military or government target. Maybe a large civilian crowd. Hard to say.”

  “Here in town?” Casey’s face filled with worry.

  “We think so. Look, this is all classified stuff, so don’t go talk to your friends about this.”

  “Aren’t you going to warn the public?”

  “We don’t want to send people into a panic. But the President is going to make a statement that the terror watch is on high alert.”

  Casey rolled off of him and flopped onto her back, frustrated. “I don’t understand these people. What do they hope to accomplish?”

  Pete shrugged. “I guess they think we shouldn’t be here, inhabiting this section of the galaxy.”

  “But these are Federation born citizens. They are sympathizing with the Verge. Explain to me how a human being can take sides with an alien race that’s bent on destroying us?”

  “I don’t get it either, but I have a feeling this isn’t going to stop anytime soon.” Pete rolled over and kissed his wife on the cheek. “I’m thrilled and excited and overwhelmed with joy. I mean it.” His voice was filled with the utmost sincerity.

  Casey smiled.

  “Can I have a rain check for later?” His sad eyes pleaded with her.

  Casey nodded.

  He smiled and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “I got to go, babe. I can’t miss this meeting.”

  “Be careful out there. Go find bad guys.”

  Pete winked at her and and rolled out of bed. “You know it.”

  His eyes found the clock again—6:57am. No time for a shower, shave, or breakfast. He doubled up on deodorant, threw on a suit and tie, and dashed out the door. The UIA building was only 15 minutes away. But with traffic, the drive time could easily double or triple. Pete’s late start was putting him right in the middle of the morning commute.

  He was only in the car for a few minutes when he got a call from his boss, John Graham. The car’s automatic control took over as Graham appeared on the view screen. He was probably mid 40’s but it was hard to tell a person’s true age with all the medical advancements and age delaying technology available. He had a square jaw and dark hair. He looked like an agent out of a spy movie, and had the swagger to go with it.

  “I'm glad you called,” Pete said. “There's an accident on 35. It has got things delayed a bit, but I should be on time.

  Graham wasn’t buying it for a second, but he didn’t really seem to care. “Actually, I was going to give you a heads up. I’m paring you with a new partner. Emma Castle. Do you know her?”

  “Yeah. Vaguely. The brunette in counter-terrorism, right? New recruit.”

  “That's the one.”

  “My wife's not going to be happy about this.”

  “Just tell your wife Emma’s beauty challenged.”

  “Emma Castle is anything but ugly. Look, I don't need a new partner. I like working by myself. I’m an analyst so I can avoid interaction with other people.”

  “She’s a solid agent. Former combat veteran. Marine infantry. Did two deployments in Razurvan. Graduated college in 2 years on the GI bill. Finished top of her class from the Farm. She’s one of our best and brightest.”

  Pete sighed. “Alright, but you have to explain it to my wife. She’s the jealous type, and I suspect I’m going to be dealing with some increased emotional highs and lows over the next 9 months.”

  Graham p
erked up. He caught on instantly. “Congratulations. You’ll make a great dad.”

  “Thanks.” Pete wasn’t as sure. He was still feeling overwhelmed. “I’m going to have to read a dozen parenting manuals.”

  “You’ll be fine. Raising kids is only slightly more difficult than diffusing nuclear bombs.”

  Pete chuckled nervously.

  “Emma will be at this morning’s meeting. It will be a good opportunity for you two to get acquainted. There’s been a lot of chatter lately, and I’m getting pressure from the new administration to ramp up the anti-terrorism efforts. I’ll see you shortly.” The transmission ended.

  It was 7:27am by the time Pete made it through the security gate and pulled into the parking area reserved for UIA employees. Three minutes to spare. He’d still have to get through the main building security and down into the Vault. The underground complex was virtually impenetrable. Composite steel blast doors and walls. It could, theoretically, survive a direct nuclear hit. And there were enough foodstuffs and medical supplies to last 10 years of confinement within the Vault, if need be.

  As Pete raced up the steps to the main entrance, he caught sight of Emma Castle dashing out of the building. His face crinkled, perplexed. Where was she going? “Emma… Pete Carver.”

  He extended his hand and the two shook.

  “I think we met briefly at the Christmas party,” she said.

  “Yes, I think you’re right.” Pete paused awkwardly. “I hear we’ll be working together.”

  “Yes. Looking forward to it.” She smiled with eager eyes.

  “Have they started yet?”

  “No. The directorate isn’t even in the building yet.”

  Pete slumped. “Of all the days I could’ve been late.” He shook his head.

  “I left a data drive in the car,” she said sheepishly. She started toward the parking lot. “I’ll see you inside.”

  Pete stepped inside and got in line to pass through the security scanners.

  Emma ran down the steps and through the parking lot toward her car. She was running as fast as she could in heels, trying not to turn an ankle. Her heels clacked against the concrete as she weaved between the parked hover-cars. She was starting to sweat, and her white silk blouse was sticking to her skin. She had on a navy blazer and slacks, and wore dark aviator sunglasses. It was essentially the standard uniform for UIA agents.