Solar Warden: Book Three - Genesis

By Peter Fuller

Just when you thought there was a light at the end of the tunnel …
Think again.

A ticking time bomb, an enemy that will stop at nothing, untested technology and a spy who targets Solar Warden in a way they never imagined. Earth faces unprecedented dangers and challenges as the reptilians and grays change their tactics and up the ante to a threat level never before experienced.
Newly promoted Lieutenant Colonel Richardson harbors a dark secret Scarecrow is intent on discovering. Meanwhile, the Solar Warden team is hoping the detection of a damaged enemy vessel will lead them to the source of recent, lethal attacks. The discovery of alien intel points the humans to a surprise none expected, while the entire Solar Warden team is left reeling at the sudden death of a beloved comrade.
Book Three continues Peter Fuller's Solar Warden saga with alien wolf packs harassing the human fleet with deadly results. Scarecrow and his comrades retaliate as they discover the true nature of their enemy. There will be no capitulation, no treaty, no quarter. Evil has a taken a new form ...

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Sep 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667856070

Book preview

cover.jpg

©2020 Peter Fuller. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Cover art by Tom Edwards of tomedwardsdesign.com

ISBN: 978-1-66785-606-3 (print)

ISBN: 978-1-66785-607-0 (ebook)

Contents

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

CHAPTER THIRTY

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

CHAPTER FORTY

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

EPILOGUE

AUTHOR’S NOTE

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Completing a novel can be a daunting task, as I’ve discovered with the two previous installments in this series. However, as the Apostle Paul mentioned of Christ’s ministry, this thing was not done in a corner. There are a lot of contributors to this project, without whom I would never have been able to see its completion. Because of their help and expertise, their enthusiasm and encouragement, their no, he wouldn’t say it like that, or why don’t you write it like this, Solar Warden is as much theirs as it is mine.

While there is a core of friends and family who will always be a part of this project, there are also those who come and go. That’s alright–those who join this list provide a new perspective, a fresh set of eyes that challenge me to consider aspects of the story I never would’ve thought myself. It’s a true collaborative effort.

First and foremost, my wife Anna-Marie has been my mainstay. She’s struggled with health issues over the past year, but through it all she’s been at my shoulder, encouraging and supporting me, guiding me and ensuring this project didn’t get bogged down in the minutia of everyday life. There have been a lot of challenges for both of us, but Anna-Marie has always been there to support me. I owe her more than I could ever repay.

My children have also been a source of strength and encouragement. My daughter Justina with her medical expertise, her Beta-reading skills and her work marketing and advertising my books on social media have been a tremendous boost for me. She’s a true bibliophile, and I’m sure if it were possible, she would insist I produce a book a week to satisfy her appetite for reading.

Jonathan, my computer-savant son, continues to provide his knowledge of all things technical, from how a quantum computer works to how one might go about planting a virus in an alien computer network and of course, everything in-between. When I come up with some goofy, high-tech idea, he sighs and says, Dad, it doesn’t work like that. Let me explain it to you. Thanks son, for your guidance and expertise. It is beyond anything else out there. Why CSIS, DARPA, the NSA or any of the other alphabet soup intelligence groups haven’t enlisted you yet is beyond me. Then again, perhaps they have and you’re not at liberty to say …

Once again, my team of military advisors are tremendous. Major Teresa Drag, USMC (retired) provides a Marine perspective not only for Sandy Richardson, but all my Marine characters, including the Red Boots. She’s a delightful lady who is eager to provide her exhaustive expertise.

Colonel Thomas Vulture Lawhead, USAF (retired) is my Air Force pilot consultant. Vulture flew combat missions in Iraq and Afghanistan, but his expertise doesn’t just cover ACM or CAS–it goes far beyond. He doesn’t focus only on Scarecrow and the aerial aspects of the Solar Warden story arc, he brings a plethora of ideas and advice, covering the entire spectrum of the human condition. His wisdom and insight run deep, and his advice provides a richness to my storytelling.

Captain Russell Ervin, USN (retired) US Submarine Force. Russell handles Naval nomenclature and communication protocols in my novels. He also provides insight about living in a confined space for long periods of time under high stress, not unlike long range space craft ...

These servicemen and woman have also become dear friends and I couldn’t complete this project without them.

Tom Edwards of https://tomedwardsdesign.com created the cover for book two, and once again he has done an exceptional job on the cover for book three. Tom must be the most patient individual I know. He graciously endures my myriad comments and corrections and offers insightful advice, producing a cover beyond what I expected. Tom is a true artist.

Janell Livingston has agreed to edit book three for me. She’s insightful, diligent, and very skilled in her editing. Janell is new to my team, but she fits right in, taking to her task with enthusiasm and skill. Like Captain Ervin (an author himself), she challenges me to view aspects of the story from a varied point of view. I’m very thankful to have Janell as part of my team.

Then there’s you, my readers and fans. All my efforts would be wasted without you. There have been days when I stare at my computer monitor and think, Nobody is going to want to read this! You prove me wrong. I’ve read your reviews and your comments and they are what keeps me writing. From the bottom of my heart, thank you, all of you for your support and encouragement.

And thank you for your willingness to accompany me on this journey.

For my wife, Anna-Marie.

Living proof angels walk among us …

www.solar-warden.com

For a list of military terms and phrases, go to

https://www.solar-warden.com/glossary-of-military-terms

PART ONE

GENESIS

PROLOGUE

15 October 2016

"Report, Lieutenant."

The major peered through his magnification display as he crouched behind the low rise overlooking the sprawling enemy base. He surveyed the scene before him as intel from his VISOR (visual interface system, ocular readout) streamed across the interior of his face shield. Back home, his nine-to-five was taking down the worst, most dangerous, most reprehensible bad guys planet Earth had to offer. He had been recruited to command this mission because he excelled at his job.

Everyone’s in position, Sir, the lieutenant said as he shimmied up to his CO on his hands and knees. He rolled onto his side and held up his tablet, activating it and surveying the schematic of the Marine platoon’s deployment.

Any sign of enemy activity?

No, Sir. The area is silent. It’s kinda weird …

How so?

Well Major, I would’ve expected some drone sentry patrols, perimeter sensors, an electronic fence–something–anything. They don’t even have any surveillance cameras we can detect. It’s like they don’t think they need to monitor the exterior of this facility at all. Like they didn’t think we could ever mount an assault like this.

Or that we would ever be so bold …

Exactly, Sir.

The major went silent. Pensive. Something didn’t feel right. The last time his gut churned like this was right before the platoon he was commanding in Afghanistan was ambushed by a group of Taliban, masquerading as women wearing burkas. He’d lost six good men in that fiasco. That engagement was over two years ago. Now here he was, serving in an ultra-top-secret program on a moon orbiting a gas giant in a star system over four light years from Earth. This time the enemy he and his men faced made the Tallies look like a Boy Scout troop.

He wondered if 50 Marines would be enough. The mission was straightforward–they were to infiltrate the perimeter of the enemy facility, deploy and set charges around the power plant, the hangar bay and the main gun emplacement. Once they detonated their ordnance, the Solar Warden carrier Archangel could move into position and destroy the rest of the facility.

They’d flown in cloaked and to their knowledge, they’d arrived undetected. All 50 Marines had moved with silent caution into position behind a small ridge overlooking the northern perimeter of the enemy facility. They’d spent the last two hours scanning for any sign of surveillance activity. They’d detected nothing, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist.

Is Alpha Team ready?

Awaiting your green light, Sir.

Bravo and Charlie?

They’re good to go. All three teams are in position and awaiting your orders.

The major hesitated as he continued to scrutinize the exterior of the facility through his magnification display. His VISOR gave range, elevation, energy output–all the pertinent tactical information–but the life-signs indicator was blank. The lieutenant was right–there was no enemy activity detected. At least none their sensors could confirm.

All right, the major sighed at last. Alpha Team has a green light.

Aye, Sir. The lieutenant switched to another comm frequency and relayed the order.

What have you gotten me into, Linds …? the major thought. He watched Alpha Team glide forward like specters across the barren landscape separating the Marine strike force from the enemy facility. Only half in the three squads had integrated stealth suits so they opted not to engage them. There was no cover to speak of and the squad did their best to remain inconspicuous despite the open ground.

Alpha Team, comprised of four stacks, reached the first building and pressed themselves against the outer wall, their helmeted heads bobbing back and forth as their eyes darted about for any sign they’d been detected. Bravo and Charlie were still on the platoon’s flanks, awaiting the order to advance.

Then, without warning …

The Marine platoon found themselves surrounded by hundreds of enemy troops. The huge alien figures appeared out of nowhere–as if conjured from thin air. Startled, the Marines hesitated, if only for a heartbeat. Half a heartbeat. That was all the enemy needed. The moment they materialized with their weapons raised, they opened fire on the Marine platoon. Alpha Team, pinned against the wall of the facility building, didn’t get the opportunity to respond or defend themselves. Their body armor could withstand the blast from a single enemy directed energy weapon– perhaps two at once–but the hapless Marines were being struck by multiple simultaneous blasts. The fearsome barrage ripped them apart. The major watched with shock and horror as the enemy force slaughtered his men without mercy.

Ambush! the major screamed into the comm. Fall back, fall back, fall back!

The major scrambled to his feet as he fumbled for his rifle slung across his shoulder. His lieutenant was already on one knee returning fire, when he exploded in a blinding flash. The lieutenant’s body disintegrated, spraying the major with blood.

The major staggered back and raised his own weapon, but a second blast caught him out of the corner of his eye. He spun around to see their MDV (Marine Delivery Vehicle)–once cloaked and invisible–appear and vaporize as two enemy vessels, hovering above it, released a deadly salvo, depriving the major and his Marines of any hope of escape.

The major spun around again, opening fire on a group of enemy soldiers decimating Bravo Team to his right. Before he could offer any kind of effective assistance, he felt a sharp blow to his helmet from the rear. He pitched forward, smashing his transparent aluminum face shield against the hard surface of the ground. His VISOR displays flickered for a moment, then readjusted. He rolled onto his back and prepared to engage whoever or whatever had struck his six.

Through waves of pain, he stared up at a giant of a figure now straddling him, encased in its own hideous, alien-looking environmental suit. The massive form, silhouetted against the black, star-encrusted sky, loomed over him, pointing its otherworldly weapon right between his eyes.

The major tossed his rifle to one side and spread his arms in capitulation as his comm echoed with the screams of his dying men …

A pall hung over the briefing room at Solar Warden Command. The large split screen display of the ARI showed live footage from the battlefield on one side and a direct line to Archangel on the other. It flashed and lost the signal from the major’s helmet cam. The image of the huge reptilian, hovering over him with its weapon pointed at his head, burned into the minds of those watching. General Mike Patrick cursed and pounded his fist on the table as he sat back in frustration. Lieutenant Lindsay Vickers sat in wide-eyed horror, her hands covering her mouth. Her father, Admiral Thomas Maddox, broke the tense silence.

Captain, is a rescue attempt possible?

Our cloaked sensor buoy indicates they’ve raised the base’s shields, Archangel’s captain replied. From our current position behind the gas giant, it would still take over 30 minutes to reach the Proxima base. The remainder of our men are now within the base’s shield canopy. They’re beyond reach, Sir.

Lindsay leapt from her chair and ran from the room. Maddox stood to follow her but deferred. He turned back to the captain’s image, now filling the entire ARI display.

Can you do anything?

I’m sorry, Admiral. I’m afraid not. Our men are lost.

An entire platoon! General Patrick shouted. Fifty Marines, all Red Boots! He glanced over at Major General Desmond Pratt, who stared straight ahead, unflinching. What happened? We’ve planned this mission for months. Every contingency was considered. It was guaranteed to succeed. How could we–

We didn’t miss anything, Mike, Maddox said. He went silent, not daring to verbalize what everyone was thinking.

I don’t know how long we can keep suffering defeat like this, Admiral, the captain of Archangel said through the display. "It’s like swimming upstream. We take two steps forward and three steps back. Three weeks ago, we lost an entire division of TR-3Bs in another engagement. Just last month Dreadnaught was ambushed by two enemy mother ships and she only escaped by the skin of her teeth. She’ll spend at least another month in dry-dock undergoing repairs. These snakeheads are going to overrun us."

I understand your frustration, Captain and I concur. However, we must continue to keep fighting, regardless of our setbacks. We have no other choice.

Admiral, my crew is discouraged and that’s putting it mildly. I’ve never seen their morale as low as it is right now. No one thinks we can win this war … and I’m beginning to believe them.

Capitulation is not an option. I know you understand better than anyone what’s at stake here, and you’re also aware of the fact our resources are limited. We can only do so much with what we’ve got. We have to come up with a plan that will bring a positive result. The admiral slumped back into his chair, sighing and maintaining eye contact as he did. Right now, I just don’t know what that plan could be.

We need a miracle, the captain said. It’s as simple as that.

I’m sorry, but I’m fresh out of miracles at the moment.

Then what are we going to do, Sir? We can’t afford to continue losing assets like this. No matter what we attempt, we’re simply unable to achieve a victory.

We keep fighting, Maddox replied. That’s what we do. To the last man and woman, we keep fighting. As Churchill reminded us so long ago, we can never surrender. The admiral leaned forward with an intense stare.

The consequences of surrender … are unthinkable.

CHAPTER ONE

Present Day

Mere feet from the shore, Scarecrow sat in his beach lounger in front of Rear Admiral Reynolds’ bungalow on Oahu, basking in the early afternoon sun. His tanned skin was hidden beneath generous amounts of sunscreen. He felt out of sorts wearing nothing but a speedo–he was used to being shielded within his flight suit, or at least a uniform. Any uniform.

A Solar Warden ball cap protected his pale pate and a pair of Ray-Ban aviators provided defense for his steel-blue eyes. A Clive Cussler–Dirk Pitt novel rested on his lap. The commander occasionally attempted to make his way through it, but the beauty of his surroundings kept distracting him.

Then there was Sandy.

The major was in the tiny inlet guarding the bungalow flanked by tall, majestic palms. She was swimming back and forth, her motion smooth as she reveled in the warm, tropical sea water. Her strokes were methodical and in perfect rhythm. Her arms rose and fell in unison with her feet as they kicked with gentle cadence, her motion careful to avoid even the slightest splash as her sleek, hourglass form sliced through the windex water.

Scarecrow had spotted several sea turtles frolicking in the cove earlier that morning and a whale breaching and blowing several times farther out an hour or so later, but Sandy was now alone in the water. He watched as she made her way across the inlet some 100 yards from shore. Back and forth. Then back again. As if she was performing an aquatic dance for his eyes only.

The novel would have to wait until later.

After some time, Sandy turned and began to work her way back to shore. When she was about a dozen yards away, the newlywed bride stopped and stood. Or so Scarecrow thought. All that protruded from the water was her head and shoulders. She leaned back, submerging the posterior of her head in the warm island surf, pulling her hair back with her hands so that it cascaded between her shoulder blades like an aureate cephalopod.

Sandy rose out of the surf in slow motion as she moved forward. Her skin showed signs of a mild tan, glistening in the mid-afternoon sun as the water ran off her body. Her scarlet bikini made a vain attempt to reinforce her modesty. She looked into Scarecrow’s Ray-Ban shielded eyes as she approached with nothing more than a mild disturbance of the water as she went from waist to knee to ankle deep water. Botticelli’s Venus Rising was a shallow imitation of what Scarecrow beheld before him. Indeed, this goddess was personally created by the Almighty Himself.

Wow … Scarecrow whispered under his breath. Thank you God, for giving me this … unbelievable creature as my wife.

What did you say, Lover? Sandy asked as she strode up from the surf, reached down and grabbed a towel to begin drying off.

Just marveling at your beauty, Sweeting ...

Sandy smiled at his compliment as she leaned to one side and began rubbing her long tresses of hair dry between the folds of her towel. Scarecrow dropped his Ray-Bans and continued to stare at Sandy while she dried off. She gazed back at him as her face morphed from contentment to mild confusion.

What is it, Darling?

What’s what, Sweeting?

When you look at me, I usually know exactly what you’re thinking, she said as she grew a playful smile, but I’ve never seen this look before. She waved her hand at him with a nonchalant motion. What’s rolling around inside that brain-cave of yours?

Oh, I was just thinking about something Captain Philips said when they Brought you back to the Mars Base after your battle at Little Round Top, Scarecrow said.

Really? What sage oracles did David utter?

Well, I’m sitting here mesmerized by how beautiful you are and I’m trying to reconcile it with the fact you’re a warrior.

Don’t I look like a warrior to you? Sandy held her arms out from her sides, her palms toward her husband. Am I not your Hippolyta?

Her magnificent, lithe form fell somewhere between the cut, vein-encrusted musculature of a female bodybuilder and the soft, gentle curves of a fashion model. Her limbs, indeed her entire physique exuded power, much like that of a professional dancer, but without losing any of its delicate femininity.

Well, that’s the thing. You just hit the nail on the head, Sweeting. Philips suggested you’re a real-life Amazon and looking at you here, I would have to agree with him. Gal Gadot’s got nothing on you. My Hippolyta indeed. Hopefully, I am your Theseus. That’s the only way I can wrap my head around the fact you’re a warrior.

You men, Sandy replied as she picked up the towel once more and resumed drying her hair. Always having trouble with the fact we women can do anything you can and we usually end up doing it much better, too.

In your case, you won’t get any argument from me.

As Sandy stood before him, Scarecrow continued to gaze at her while she finished toweling off. She didn’t mind. She smiled back at him, enjoying his looks of desire. It made her feel wanted, loved, appreciated. Her husband’s miens were nothing like most of the stares she’d received from any number of other men. Those were lecherous, born of idle lust. They objectified her and she’d seen them for more years than she cared to recall, from hundreds, possibly thousands of other men.

However, Scarecrow’s longings were rooted in a deep-seated love and respect. They made her feel like a woman who was desired for more than the simple satiation of a carnal urge.

Scarecrow’s smile then shifted to one more frisky. His eyes darted around the cove, to return to Sandy’s beautiful, hourglass form. Do you remember when Jonathan said we should make love on the beach at sunset? he asked.

She cast her husband a wary glance, remaining silent as she did.

Y’know, we’re so isolated here, we could do just that …

Sandy’s eyes narrowed as she continued to scrutinize him.

Or at the very least, you could swim in the buff, and no one could see you but me.

Is that what you think? Sandy replied as she leaned forward to finish drying her long, slender legs.

Scarecrow didn’t respond, but continued to gaze at her, the playful glint in his eyes evident.

Sandy looked to one side and returned her husband’s impish smirk. She straightened up and with a few flicks of her thumb, the pieces of her bikini floated to the sand like a pair of claret feathers. She dropped her towel and stepped over to stand at his feet like Eve on her first day in the Garden.

Is that better? Her hands rested on her hips as she joined in his playfulness. They were on their honeymoon, after all. She had waited many years for this, and she was determined to experience all of it in full measure.

Oh, yes, Sweeting. Very much so …

CHAPTER TWO

"Nautilus to Solar Warden battle group, Rear Admiral Reynolds said over the comm. The enemy’s shields are fluctuating at these coordinates. Target location and fire all batteries, over."

Nautilus came about and swung around to the lee side of the enemy mother ship, followed by Rapace, Avarice and Dreadnaught. The carrier group opened fire on a location just beneath the rim of the massive, nearly mile-wide saucer. The enemy returned fire with all available arrays, targeting the flagship alone.

Rapace maneuvered between the two, attempting to draw the enemy fire away from the Solar Warden flagship. Before any significant damage could be inflicted, the shields on the enemy saucer flashed and collapsed in the targeted area. Directed energy weapons began slicing into the hull, wreaking considerable damage to the underside of the enormous enemy craft, shutting down their weapons fire.

"Nautilus Aurora Tactical One to all Solar Warden Boats, Hutch’s voice broke over the comm. Hold fire so we can sweep under their shields and target their command deck from inside their shield array, over."

"Tactical One, Nautilus, Reynolds replied. Roger that–holding fire. Be quick, CAG. We don’t want to lose our advantage, over."

Hutch, Bad Boy. Did the Scarecrow teach you this one, over? Zvi asked as his own air wing charged under the shields, hot on the Nautilus attack wing’s six.

Bad Boy, Hutch. Yup. Worked before. Let’s see if we can repeat the performance, over.

"Solar Warden battle group, Nautilus. Launch missiles, over," Reynolds said.

The four carriers complied and launched more than a dozen lethal fish as the squadrons of TR-3Bs reached their target and began firing on the Leviathan class mother ship’s command deck. The additional shields surrounding the enemy bridge began to flicker as the directed energy weapons of the two air wings pounded the augmented area of the hull.

The enemy vessel reverberated with a violent shudder as the Solar Warden missiles found their mark in a simultaneous detonation. Their entire shield grid flashed and collapsed as the four carriers continued to pound away with all batteries at the now disintegrating hull of their adversary.

Admiral, the sensor officer called to Reynolds. They’re powering up their remaining MFDs, Sir. They’re preparing to jump to FTL.

"CAG, Nautilus. Move your attack wing to a safe distance. They may be preparing to engage FTL, over."

"Nautilus, CAG. We’re almost through, Admiral. A few more seconds and their command deck is tango uniform, over."

Before Hutch and his air wing could achieve their goal, the enemy vessel vanished as it leapt to FTL. Two TR-3Bs too close to the leading edge of the massive saucer as it jumped away were clipped by the enemy hull and swept into each other by the sudden rush to super-luminal speed. They spun out of control and collided. The only thing that kept them from disintegrating in a fiery blast was their shields, which were augmented by transferred MFD power.

"Nautilus, CAG, Hutch said over the comm. Thirty more seconds, Admiral. Thirty more seconds and we would’ve had them, over."

"CAG, Nautilus. It’s the old adage, Reynolds replied. He who fights and runs away, lives to fight another day. We’ll get them … next time, they’re ours."

Reynolds switched to the squadron common frequency.

All air wings, return to the barn, over.

Sandy lay face down on the disheveled, king-sized bed, her arms thrown above her head, the humid warmth made comfortable thanks to a large bamboo ceiling fan that spun in a leisurely arc. A mild, late evening sea breeze assisted the fan in its endeavors, wafting through the sheer curtains covering the large, open bedroom window overlooking the tiny cove. Through the aperture the soft crashing of the surf could be heard.

Sandy’s flaxen hair was tied in a loose top knot to keep it off her back, while Scarecrow straddled her hips, his oil-slick hands massaging her shoulders with therapeutic skill. A multitude of flickering shadows danced across the walls, generated by dozens of nearly spent candles dotting the bedroom. The aroma of coconut oil filled the boudoir, complementing its tropical decor. Quiet, relaxing music wafted in the background and mingled with the sound of the surf as Scarecrow’s fingers kneaded the muscles of Sandy’s back and neck.

Your skin is … perfect, Scarecrow said. After your action on Little Round Top, your environmental suit was in tatters. I would’ve expected some scars …

He ran his hands with tender but firm strokes across the porcelain surface of her neck and back as he spoke, marveling at its pristine state. Not quite as translucent as normal thanks to the tropical Hawaiian sun. Scarecrow smiled at the lack of a tan-line across Sandy’s oil-covered back. He knew the front was duly bereft.

That’s the beauty of the regeneration pod you love to hate so much, Sandy replied. Since it works from your entire DNA profile, it restores all of your tissue so there aren’t even the tiniest blemishes left when it’s finished working its FM.

Hmm, he replied. Then perhaps I don’t hate it as much after all. Scarecrow worked his hands down the muscles that lay along her spine, using his thumb with gentle but firm care.

Oh … Steve! Sandy moaned with equal portions of pleasure and pain. That’s it. Right there. She sighed and groaned into her pillow, clutching its edges in a tight grip as Scarecrow continued to apply pressure to the stiffened muscles.

Oh … Lover, don’t stop …

A smirk showed on Scarecrow’s face at Sandy’s cooing while, as the ever-faithful husband, he obeyed and continued his ministrations. Finally, she let out another sigh of contentment.

Maybe we should retire, she said, her face still buried in the pillow. I could definitely get used to this, y’know.

You mean getting me to give you massages? We don’t need to retire for that. I can give you a massage anytime. All you have to do is ask, Sweeting.

No, silly, she said as she pulled her hand off the pillow and waved it with a feeble, helicopter-motion over her head. All of this. Everything. The house, the climate, the beach, the swimming, the seafood, everything.

She strained her neck as she pulled her head around to catch his eye with her own, casting a frisky smile as she did.

"And the love-making, of course … All of it. I could get used to all of it. In generous quantities."

Nah, Scarecrow replied as he moved over to work on the muscles of her upper back. You’d get bored awful fast.

Not with that last part, Lover.

I hope not. Not that part, at least …

He shot his hands up into her armpits to tickle her. She rewarded him with a giggle as she tensed and he drew his hands down to knead her latissimus dorsi.

In no time, you’d pine for your command, and you’d want to go back. This is a nice diversion, but I don’t think you’d get used to being a ground-walker again. Besides, didn’t you tell me a while back, once a Marine, always a Marine?

You sure know how to burst a girl’s bubble. Sandy turned back with a playful pout and buried her face in the pillow once more.

We don’t have to retire y’know … Scarecrow returned to massaging Sandy’s neck muscles as his expression grew pensive. We could just get a place like this of our own. Not as big mind you, but a nice little cottage right on the beach with lots of palm trees surrounding it, on its own quiet little bay like this. Whattya think? We could make this an annual ritual.

Have you looked at one of your income statements? she said. Even with our combined salaries, we could never afford it.

Jonathan doesn’t appear to have any trouble affording it. Scarecrow looked up and gazed around the room with a hint of envy.

He’s the battle group commander of the entire Solar Warden fleet. This place was probably a perk provided for him when he was promoted to his current command. You and I are a lot farther down on the food chain, I’m afraid.

We’re not that far down. You’re an 0-4 and I’m an 0-5. Jonathan’s an 0-7. Surely our combined incomes would match his.

You’ve been in the Program for less than a year, which means you’re at the bottom of the pay scale. I’ve been in a bit longer–

How much longer? Scarecrow leaned to the side but couldn’t catch the expression on his wife’s face with it buried in the pillow. She deflected his query with deftness.

It doesn’t really matter. What you and I make together is still not enough to be able to afford a place like this.

Yeah well, with regards to that … here’s the thing, Scarecrow said. I had a retirement plan when I was with the Air Force. I also had a veteran’s life insurance policy that would pay out four times its value if I was killed in the line of duty–

You weren’t killed in the line of duty. You weren’t killed at all–

According to the rest of the world I was. Anyhow, together, they amount to a tidy little sum.

That money would’ve gone to your next of kin, wouldn’t it? Your sister?

"That’s what I thought, but when I was at Command back in Dahlgren, Lindsay told me the EDF bean-counters had a little chat with their Air Force counterparts at the Pentagon.

That money is now in an offshore account with my name on it. I checked when Lindsay told me what the accountants had done, and she was right. Turns out it’s quite a little nest-egg. We could use it as a down-payment on a place of our own right here in Hawaii–

Sandy twisted beneath Scarecrow’s legs and spun around to face him, her eyes aflame with anxious anticipation. Her sudden motion, executed with the dexterity and grace of a danseuse, caught her husband off guard, startling him. He recovered and shot an impish smile at her.

Oh … do you want me to work on the front now? He cupped his hands as they hovered above each of her ample breasts. His smile was eager. She frowned at his friskiness, batted his hands to one side and grabbed him at the elbows, her eyes boring into his.

Do you mean it? Sandy asked, anxious. Do you think you have enough? We could get a place like this of our own? She shook his arms as she spoke. You would do that for me? For us?

Sure. Why not?

Scarecrow dropped his goofy act and leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of her lissome form to support himself as he offered a sincere smile. He peered deep into her anxious, viridian-hued eyes.

Sandy, I would do anything for you. You must realize that by now. I boarded a BCMS to come and rescue you.

You did, too … Sandy smiled with satisfied concurrence.

If it will make you happy, then it’s settled. It’s a done deal. We’ll start looking for a place right away.

But that’s your retirement fund–

"Our retirement fund, Sweeting. We’re husband and wife now, remember. How does the Bible put it? We’re ‘one flesh.’"

He shifted his weight to one hand and with the other, he reached up, tracing her body