SF Books by Vaughn Heppner

DOOM STAR SERIES:

Star Soldier

Bio-Weapon

Battle Pod

Cyborg Assault

Planet Wrecker

Star Fortress

Task Force 7 (Novella)

EXTINCTION WARS SERIES:

Assault Troopers

Planet Strike

Star Viking

LOST STARSHIP SERIES:

The Lost Starship

The Lost Command

The Lost Destroyer

The Lost Colony

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The Lost Colony

(Lost Starship Series 4)

by Vaughn Heppner

Copyright © 2015 by the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, without permission in writing from the author.

COUNTER-ATTACK

-1-

Admiral Fletcher felt the blood drain from his features. He clutched the armrests of his chair and heaved himself to his feet.

“Excuse me,” he muttered.

The admiral was a big man, and he was unsteady as he turned. His left leg brushed against the chair he’d been sitting on. As he fled the room, the chair went flying, skidding on its back to hit a glass case. Fortunately, nothing broke in the Lord High Admiral’s office. Not that Fletcher would have noticed.

The admiral raced through the outer room. The secretary looked up, surprised and then confused, sputtering a few words.

Fletcher kept going, his gaze unfocused. His feet thudded down the hall. He was shaking his head, muttering, “No, not again. I’ve done my duty. I…”

“Sir,” an aide said, shooting to his feet.

Fletcher never heard the man, crossing the lobby in seven swift strides. The admiral flexed his big fingers, wondering why he couldn’t feel them. With a crash, he burst through a door, shouldering a commodore out of the way, causing the smaller man to thud against a wall.

Fletcher didn’t notice, but the bloodless feeling departed at the physical contact. Anger began to wash across his features.

People who saw him stepped out of his way.

Fletcher wasn’t sure about the actual path after that, he just kept moving. After pounding up several flights of stairs, he found himself on the roof of Star Watch’s High Command complex in Geneva.

The Marines on the icy roof muttered among themselves. The lieutenant made a call, explaining the situation to someone. The man listened, nodded and dispersed his men, putting them back at their respective posts. They would leave the admiral alone.

As Fletcher clutched the parapet, he gazed at the snow on the mountains. He only wore his uniform, beginning to feel the cold. He—

A man beside him cleared his throat.