The Unmaking of an Enemy

By Bobbie M. Kaald

The Unmaking of an Enemy follows immediately after The Making of an Enemy. The federation reveals that a frigate of friends is missing and when they go to investigate they find evidence of ongoing murder. The chase continued and an anomalie is found to be threatening the safety of all mankind.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jul 9, 2009
• ISBN: 9781462826322

Bobbie M. Kaald

Born in a small town, Bobbie loved creating things. She was in several plays in high school, and wrote many short papers in school. After a long career in nursing and raising three children, Bobbie began a science fiction series with a heroine named after her grand-daughter, Sydny. A friend at her last nursing job asked her not to finish the enemy/friend series with three books and is now working on the fifth book in the enemy/friend series. She is now writing children’s fiction/fantasy books as well. Spryte and Lily are being published with her fourth book in the Enemy/Friend series, The Enemies and Friends thru the Vortex. Continuing with the children’s books, Bobbie now brings you two new children’s fiction books: Aaron // Aaron and the Lake Animal.

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Copyright © 2009 by Bobbie M. Kaald.

Library of Congress Control Number:       2009906042

ISBN:         Hardcover                               978-1-4415-4701-9

                  Softcover                                 978-1-4415-4700-2

                  Ebook                                     9781462826322

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

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Contents

FORWARD

WHAT WAS

ESCAPING

TO PARTY OR NOT TO PARTY

AWAY FROM THE PAST

DISCOVERED

ON TO THE FUTURE

CROSS PURPOSES

CARRYING ON FOR THE BOSSES

THE ATTEMPTED COVER-UP

SORRY, WE SAW YOU

HOME TO A MESS

FRUSTRATION LIKE NO OTHER

FLIGHT TO FREEDOM

PLAYING AT CAT AND MOUSE

NOT A DOLTING IDIOT

NO WHERE TO GO

FROM OUT OF THE PAST

TO SPACE OR NOT TO SPACE

HAVE THE DEAD ARISEN?

WILL THE MOUSE LOSE THE CAT?

NASTY WAY TO WAKE UP

BLOOD WILL TELL

TO TORTURE OR NOT TO TORTURE

HOW TO END THE SPELL?

A NEW LIFE TO MAKE

IN SPACE WITHOUT CONTROL

THE SECRET IS OUT

NEW TO DESPAIR

WHAT TO DO, WHAT TO DO?

SOLVED OR NOT SOLVED

FRIEND OR FOE?

A LARGER FAMILY, IS THAT A GOOD THING?

ON THE RUN WOULD BE BETTER

HOME AGAIN, BUT FOR HOW LONG?

NOT ALONE

A FRIEND UNKNOWN

SHADOWING THE SHADOW

BACK HOME BUT SICK AS A DOG

HAPPY TO BE HOME, FOR A MINUTE

IS THIS A NEW HOME?

THEY GO, WE FOLLOW

RUN AND HIDE

RETURNING TO THE PAST?

ROARING TO LIFE AGAIN

THE LOST RETURNS

AWAKING TO A NIGHT OF HORROR

INTO THE DARK VOID OF SPACE

SILENTLY FOLLOWING

JUST ARRIVED AND IN CHARGE

ALONE, BUT NOT ALONE

HIDING IN PLAIN SITE

OUT OF CONTROL AND GOING WHERE?

AWAKE AGAIN

WHO IS WHO?

TIME TO FLEE OR DIE

IN CHARGE AND HATING IT

CROSSING PATHS

ENRAGED AND CHASING

TO HIDE OR NOT TO HIDE

IN THE DARK AND REGRETTING IT

TAKING CARE OF BUSINESS

HEADED HOME WITH MANY QUESTIONS

TO THE RESCUE, NO MATTER WHAT

FREE OR NOT

HOME BUT FOR HOW LONG?

FREE AT LAST, ARE WE?

ALMOST CLEAR THINKING

CONSCIENCE, WHAT’S THAT?

EVERYTHING COMES HOME TO ROOST

Dedicated to my family

Who have picked up

The pieces of my share

Of the household

Work.

FORWARD

For those of you who have already read the previous book, there are many questions in your mind. The book could have been better written, but being my first book and all, it took long enough to write. I rushed it along because of an overwhelming need to get my short story out into the public eye. The short story is included inside of the last book.

What are the other questions? Perhaps this partial work that I just found may answer that. It has no beginning and no ending, only questions.

Where does it begin? With a sharp remark before thinking, or did it begin many years before you were even born? Did it begin with the day your parents were born, or their parents, or theirs? Who knows or cares, you say. Well, I say who will care, if not you? Who will take the time? Who will be there when it’s needed? Who will make the change? Who will do the work? Who will make the difference?

I have decided to date, that it is I that must make the difference. At least, I must try. If I do not try, then I die inside and wish to die outside. I can no longer live that way. I can only live happy. I do not mean happy at others expense, and there is the little glitch in life.

I could live for only my own happiness. This is what I hear many people say today, My teenage child is unmanageable; so, I told him to get out and never come back. I think that this is to say, quit and keep quitting your whole life. Is this what so many of us have been told, and told in so many ways that we believe? To believe is to live it, and quit and quit and quit.

Than there are those who say, I cannot be responsible even for myself, I need someone to be responsible for me. This is not to say that this is what they think aloud or even quietly inside their head. If confronted with the idea that this is how they live, they will deny it.

When I read this again the other day, I thought that it would make a perfect forward to the sequel, The Unmaking of an Enemy that follows.

WHAT WAS

The mighty earth is dead and gone, many millennium ago. In its wake, the peace has been broken as it always has been. Can no one ever let it be? Can no one ever let differences exist without trying to exterminate them?

Two friends have found each other, and then some more. A company of friends are building the future, but anger persists and they are parted.

The chase led to rescue and the federation lent a hand. The crew of pirates led them to their home, and now it has blown up, and many perished. The hunt is on for those left alive.

The two young lovers have returned to their lives, and now we see the future unfolding.

ESCAPING

Usually, space is a huge empty blackness where a ship can travel for months without running into another ship or a piece of space debris. Not so in this sector, and not ever again in the memory of man would it be empty. The cataclysmic event of the ever so brief war between the two fractions marred this area of space for all time.

Fleeing from the exploding base turned into a life and death struggle. Many vessels were blown up by the fleet as they breached the very depths of space in an effort to join Jsode’s attack. Many more vessels quickly perished in the aftermath as the asteroid exploded multiple times from the many cold fusion generators cracking and morphing into nucleonic explosions that fractured the asteroid into pieces of flying death.

Pieces of debris followed the remaining vessels for weeks before they felt significantly out in front of the mass of spreading space shrapnel. Then the astronavigators took over control of all of the vessels shortly after the explosion. Space vessels have a specialized computer called the astronavigator for the detection of certain space situations that the computer deems to be unsafe for transversing at light speed. Each vessel started out in light speed but the astronavigators of each vessel quickly turned off the lightspeed drives. This shutting down is one of the main functions of an astronavigator. This shutting down saved many lives on this day of pandemonium.

Those aboard the fleeing vessels dismally caved into the inevitable and allowed themselves to be forced to continue on with the sub light drives. After all, they accepted this without thought. This shutting down happened automatically as the computers detected a need to maneuver on a safely navigated course manually around the debris. This type of shut down safety feature went into all vessels since the advent of space travel, if the vessels were to fly through the ever enlarging area of devastation more or less manually.

Cold fusion explosions were catastrophic in their powerful annihilations, and this little episode once again proved to be a shinning example of this phenomena. Devastation seemed to be the middle name of Cold fusion generators.

This is the reason that Msaany’s blood turned to ice when she saw the cold fusion generator set up on the Samshe in engineering. She knew from previous experience that the cold fusion generators were a risky endeavor with a great potential for catastrophe, and knew that the bad luck of their crew would lead to a blow up somehow. It’s just a good thing that Msaany didn’t know of the quantity of cold fusion generators that the smugglers room held.

Msaany wished then with all of her being to be in charge but that didn’t happen. Msaany also knew it would be certain death if she voiced any objection. Jsode didn’t appear to be in a good mood that day, and any complaining would have been her last. If Jsode didn’t escort her down to engineering, Msaany would have cursed the heritage of man for not out growing its need to cause total devastation. As it was, she kept her peace on that day not so long ago. It seemed to her that the loss of Earth should have been enough of a learning experience, but obviously mankind needed something bigger.

Out in front of the group of fleeing vessels, ran the Shimmerin. She held many things in need of repair on board as well as in her fuselage, and the usual collage of primer paint on her walls for décor. As the lead command persons, Qsaafa and Msaany did most of the jobs. Qsaafa and Msaany both slowly became extremely exhausted and were frequently spelling each other on the bridge.

Qsaafa being a fair complexioned man didn’t mirror that in his attitude and actions. Inside, he housed more deviousness than any of the other captains, and held the position of being in charge of all of the decisions that the group of captains made because of it. His voice carried more weight than any of the other captains.

The other captains were allowed to believe that their group pictured in something close to a democracy, but in reality Qsaafa held the position of absolute dictator over all things. His eyes were a clear blue with a stone composure that never altered, even when he felt it necessary to mortally wound one of his closest friends.

At this time, Qsaafa currently sat on the bridge in his captain’s chair wearing his usual beige shipsuit, just changed and clean, without wrinkles. He never let himself be caught in anything less. It kept down on the fear felt by his personnel. Qsaafa didn’t want them to worry unnecessarily, until it came their turn to die.

Qsaafa watched those on duty as they monitored all the sensor arrays for any further pieces of floating death. He preferred to wear shipsuits because they were easily replaced when he needed to look as if he just got up. Not that he just interrogated anyone, or tortured his person of focus to death would be a better way of putting it.

The bridge timepiece relayed two hours since the last piece of debris missed them, but his mind churned inside with a multitude of plans for the future. Inside, he seethed with displaced anger that he would never be able to channel in the way that would bring him the most peace and satisfaction. All that Qsaafa could think about would make a grown man quake because if he ever got his hands on Jsode’s corpse most wouldn’t want to watch.

Qsaafa wish to disembowel Jsode’s corpse, and decapitate it. Then, he wished to do the many other things that he loved to do to his enemies as a way of ending their miserable existence and it wouldn’t be a pretty sight. Sometimes, he would end their miserable lives quickly, but this situation rarely happened. He didn’t consider it worthy of his position as leader of the band of cutthroats to go lightly on his enemies.

Qsaafa and Msaany discussed the last hours of the former Base A of their dwindling empire into the wee hours of many nights. The conversations always came to an unavoidable conclusion, and each time the answer came out that responsibility for the massive explosion all lay with Jsode. Jsode’s cold fusion generators caused the catastrophe, and Jsode’s obsession with getting even brought the federation to the base in the first place.

Without these things, Qsaafa would be having a well earned retirement somewhere totally unknown to the federation. The base held an extravaganza of plunder, which the league of captains previously decided to use for personal plans. The captain’s to the last man and woman present on the former base planned to use the money that the extravaganza of loot brought for a quite future in an isolated spot, and live to breathe another day in the quiet serenity of freedom.

Qsaafa knew that it would be better if Jsode could be found still alive. That way he could inform him of this frequently while he killed him slowly and painfully. He might even let the others have a turn if they paid him.

Okay, this is all that I can stand. All possible speed to Base B, and I mean all possible speed. Qsaafa finally snapped, putting his thoughts into words at last. He considered doing this for two days. No one could see any more debris on the sensor screen for the first time since the explosion. When they reached the base, he would have the new sensor update installed. For now, they would just have to make do with their current sensor abilities. He certainly knew that the fleet vessels were out looking for them, and they needed to get out of open space for a while. The fleet would be just as slowed down by the debris as they were and thus unable to truly search effectively for their quarry. It would be different if any of the other captains appeared on the sensor display, but being on his own made him extra edgy.

Right you are, Qsaafa. It’s about time, I might add. Good thing that you aren’t asking me because I just might tell you. Fsella quipped. He didn’t have a good reputation for watching his words, but did have one for being a good pilot. This allowed him to say most anything and get away with it because he also held a high reputation for being a good navigator. It frequently could be heard as a standing joke that two persons with names so alike must also have similar skills, like Fsalla and Fsella. Good thing too, because other wise, he would have been the victim of a little accident a long time ago.

You’re right, I didn’t ask you. Just do it and quickly before I decide that you’re dispensable after all. Qsaafa said this quietly with more than a touch of menace to his voice, and looked down subtly to gently finger the hilt of an antique knife. The knife came to him as an inherited hand me down, passed down through the years to the male members of his family. He was a direct descendent of an old world protection family, and his fair complexion made it really deceptive when he got angry. When Fsella looked at him, he could see that the blueness of his eyes seemed to have frost for edges, and knew in his heart that Qsaafa’s mood lay over the edge of anger as a murderous rage.

Seeing the caressing of the knife handle, Fsella fell silent, and proceeded to enter the course setting. He previously memorized and repeated these settings frequently in his head for the update with the high hopes that he could make it happen, and soon. For once, this resentful attitude had not been a waste of time and energy. Resentful that he couldn’t already be heading the ship there at top speed, Fsella felt relieved that he could now do something more than just warm the seat.

Suddenly, Qsaafa tired of his posturing, and got up slowly. Take charge, Fsella. I need to stretch my legs and get something to eat. Let me know immediately, if any more debris shows up on the sensors. It would be nice if a ship that we could plunder would come our way, but I doubt that possibility will occur. We aren’t even close enough to a position in space that might have any other adventurers flying around in it. That’s really too bad because I really am feeling like killing something or someone right about now. Don’t let that person be you. Never one to let the moment pass, the menacing threat couldn’t be missed as it hung there around each of his words.

Right you are, captain, any ship or debris and I will call you, immediately. Fsella responded in a totally monotone way. His response appeared to be in a totally subservient one, and he fondly hoped that it wouldn’t be to irritating. He wouldn’t like to be the person that Qsaafa decided to kill. Fsella bore witness in the past to some of the lengthy ends that Qsaafa brought about to his victims, and he would rather not die that way. He would really just appreciate being allowed to live a lot longer and in one piece.

Qsaafa made a sound resembling spitting, and spun himself around to make a very quick exit. The door closed with a satisfactory loud metallic sound that made the floor vibrate. It had been broken for quite some time, but Qsaafa made no move to fix it. Since it began to malfunction, Qsaafa discovered that it felt more than a little satisfying at times like this to feel as if you just slammed the door shut. Not to mention

that the malfunctioned door went with the patchwork paint and spackled walls.

He strode quickly down the hallway. Anyone who saw him would think that Qsaafa carried an air of anger and should be avoided from watching his stride. Really, he had already forgotten the incident of moments ago. This ability of his to let go of things so quickly saved many lives over the years. Afterward, he could rarely remember what occurred that irritated him so.

Jsode, a horse of another color entirely, would carry his resentments into the grave and then come back and kill them in their sleep for whatever slight he thought had been done. Qsaafa, never able to understand wasting that much energy, decided to make an exception in Jsode’s case. If it made him angry, killing would make it go away. When Qsaafa became angry, he eliminated the cause immediately when the cause could be found. Jsode could be found but a dead man felt no pain.

Qsaafa remained totally in the now. After years of self discipline, he no longer fretted over the small incidents of petty humanism. He long since learned that people would be fools, and that he could always seek vengeance at anytime. All of those in the league of smugglers knew that their lives were at the whim of anyone else in the league at any given time. This lead to a very cavalier attitude towards life and it enabled all of them to do away with all witnesses. This kind of attitude proved to be very useful over the years. There weren’t any of his associates that could afford to allow themselves to care for human life. Caring for human life put all of those around you at risk because you wouldn’t act immediately. Caring meant thinking before reacting, and usually brought about your own death before the thinking ended.

Having reached the dining hall, Qsaafa turned in and went directly to the food synthesizers. Synth coffee, and a brownie with frosting. He loved his coffee and chocolate. He never ate the real stuff, and no one alive ever ate the real chocolate.

If you didn’t know what it tasted like, you couldn’t miss what you never consumed. The synthetic that the synthesizers dispensed came very close to palatable and for that he allowed himself this indulgence. It would help to stabilize his attitude, however briefly, and allow him to think and contemplate the next move.

With that in mind, he took his food, and went to sit at an eating area where he quickly consumed it. Next he closed his eyes, and allowed his thoughts to run free. Quickly he surmised his next step, and rose to return to the bridge.

Qsaafa scarcely entered the hallway for his speedy return when he felt the vessel lurch to a stop. He lost his balance and fell into the wall. After righting himself, Qsaafa began to run toward the bridge, cursing fluently under his breath. In less than twenty heart beats, he found himself back at the door to the bridge. A brief second later, Qsaafa appeared on the bridge. What’s going on, Fsella? I leave for only a moment, and you stop instead of careening through to Base B. Qsaafa practically foamed at the mouth with his anger blowing up greater and greater at every second.

You did want to know if any vessels came our way, did you not. Fsella quipped back in a verbal salute. There’s a rather large federation vessel just on the other side of the sensor screen. It seems to be heading for the federation base on the far edge of the galaxy. I thought it wise not to give our position away. For that reason alone, I brought this vessel to an all stop without permission. He spoke with as much respect and professional attitude of being at attention as possible. His nerves were on the edge from the memory of the knife thing and now he chose to act against Qsaafa’s orders. His life hung on whether or not Qsaafa liked his decision, and the sweat that popped out on his forehead gave this knowledge away.

You did the right thing, this time. Qsaafa snarled brusquely. He didn’t glance around being so used to the interior that he didn’t even glance at the multitude of patches in the walls or the set up of the interior. Turning to the sensor panel, Qsaafa paused ever so briefly to examine the readings. He then turned to Tsilla who sat in the second pilot’s seat, doubling as their navigator. His own navigator suffered from a severe concussion and lay in the medical unit on the edge of oblivion. Even with the new treatments, they were unable to save every injured person.

How many person’s on board? Qsaafa trusted Tsilla’s information because of her reputation for honesty, not to mention her photographic memory. He also trusted her to read his mind and know intuitively that he meant on board the other ship.

The usual entourage, and there’s someone in a cryonics unit within their medical area. Tsilla dropped the bombshell with quiet refined diplomacy, and held her breath awaiting Qsaafa’s reaction. She didn’t have long to wait. Qsaafa’s propensity for psychically being able to jump to the appropriate conclusion way before most people could, surfaced once again. It took her a full two minutes to come to the conclusion that he arrived at scarcely two heart beats after she finished her announcement.

Jsode is alive! What a lucky stiff, he is. What a lucky break for me, I will be able to punish him appropriately, after all. Qsaafa responded at a very loud level of voice which approached a yell, but not quite. He dropped to a whisper right at the end. His voice an echo of what he anticipated doing to Jsode, alive or dead. Briefly, he could be seen rubbing his hands together in anticipation. It made Tsilla shiver with the fear always invoked by Qsaafa’s anger even though it wasn’t aimed her way. There appeared a fiendish smirk on his face and a psychotic gleam in his eyes, but he quickly refocused his eyes to conceal his feelings somewhat.

I didn’t say that he remained alive. I just said that someone is in a cryonics unit. I don’t even know that it is Jsode. There is a trace of one of our sensors that seems to be coming from inside of the unit. However, if there are any life signs, they’re to faint to read. Whoever is inside of the chamber may be dead. Tsilla announce her findings in a summary form, and with a slight monotone. This way her feelings weren’t revealed and her comments stayed impersonal, even though she didn’t feel that way. She also, would like to see Jsode suffer more than just a little, but not at Qsaafa’s hands. A death caused by Qsaafa could be more than the worst of criminals would ever deserve.

It has to be Jsode. There’s no one else that they would be taking back to the federation home base, and you know that’s where they’re heading. They could have caught someone else in the turmoil. They would be going at light speed if they weren’t going to the federation base. Being this close automatically forced them to begin their slow down. Qsaafa muttered, more to himself than anyone else. Let’s use the quick and speedy way to annihilate them. That’ll give us a better chance at getting the ship more or less intact.

Suddenly, you could hear a pin drop in the corridor outside of the bridge. It seemed just that quiet on the bridge as well. Qsaafa turned his darkest stare toward Fsella who suddenly broke out into a real sweat. Eventually, he answered in a whisper, Yes, sir. Turning to his console, he began to program in the commands needed, and tried to quiet his breathing. As much as he tried, his hands were shaking and sweaty. He knew that a clear head would be needed for this life threatening maneuver, but somehow it eluded him. Jumping to light speed for a brief count of twenty, and then a quick breaking maneuver to turn and give a quick sharpshooter shot that would knock out the other vessel’s drives. This kind of maneuver, so very risky and lethal, is a thing that he rarely if ever would even consider. The maneuver yielded very effective results, but the risks were extremely high and he really dreaded using the maneuver. Most likely they would ram the federation vessel, and put an end to both of them leaving a ballooning cloud of shrapnel in their wake.

Qsaafa ignored all of them and strode toward his captain’s seat. He sat down with a loud thump and assumed his position of command. Instinctively, he activated the all ship wide comm unit and made his announcement. Attention everyone, secure yourselves with the closest means possible. It’s the quick and speedy maneuver coming up, very soon. You have only about two minutes. Unlike Jsode, he wanted all of his crew in one piece, and would in fact fine personnel for injuring themselves and making themselves unavailable for full duty during their convalescence. There were no longer any twenty-four hour illnesses with all of the air recycling through filters for all types and sizes of virus and other microorganisms. The only sick time in this era came from preventable accidents, and he knew how to prevent most of them, with fear.

While he waited, Qsaafa buckled himself in and fastened down the second seat belt as well, just in case the braking protocol got rough and threw the occupants about enough to break the bones of the unprepared. He believed in preparedness, and the efficiency of a crew that remained all in one piece. Jsode wouldn’t have warned anyone, and just bucked down as he commanded the attack. Jsode got his kicks out of the discomfort of his crew by letting everyone else try to protect themselves after it was too late.

This maneuver resulted in getting in close and fast, transporting over, killing everyone that they came in contact with, and a quick take over the victims vessel. In this case, they might just bring back the cryonic chamber and keep on trucking. With the drives out on the federation vessel, Qsaafa’s ship could easily get to Base B before the federation crew got their drives going again. Finally, Fsella had everything programmed in, and nodded to Qsaafa.

No one needed to go to transport because the protocol included the emergent locations of each crew member during times like this. Everyone needed would be transported over once the other vessel’s drives were incapacitated. After buckling in, he reached inside of his console and withdrew his favorite weapon. His choice of weapon, of course, could only be a small but versatile laser weapon. It utilized quinlyte crystals. They were twenty times harder than other know crystals, and more able to focus light into a pinpoint precision cutting line. He liked it because he could cut the life out of someone in a half of a heart beat, and no one would hear anything. In many ways, Qsaafa made Jsode look like a pussy cat.

When Qsaafa felt that his crew margin of safety expired, he nodded back and the game began. The ship lurched once and smoothed quickly into a gut collapsing forward moving, high velocity jump into light speed. In less time than it would take to say stop, the ship braked and than Qsaafa materialized inside of the medical unit on the federation vessel. Lsayla stood beside of him wafting sweet female odors at him that he ignored, and he quickly fired to dispose of everyone inside of the medical unit. As it happened, only one person stood inside their area, and she went down quickly.

Lsayla didn’t wait for anyone to tell her what to do. She went directly to the cryogenic chamber to check on its occupant. What she found appalled her. Who ever lay inside of the unit suffered from grievous wounds and the chamber dials indicated only a bare survival level without any attempt to repair or offer medical assistance. Even in freeze,