Galactic Alliance 3: Honor Thy Enemy (2 page)

“I always knew you would go far Doug,” Ken said contemplating his beer for a moment then put it to his lips and took another large swallow. Setting the beer down on a coaster he said, “You’re obviously not here just to visit an old friend. The uniform says this is an official visit. I can’t fathom why the space force would want anything from me, and quite frankly, I’m not sure I want anything from them either. What’s going on?”

Following Ken’s retirement from the military, he and Doug had kept in touch through e-mail and an occasional video message. Over the years, the two friends had gradually lost touch with each other. Although Doug had known about Ken’s ancestral home on Earth he had never chosen to make the trip. It wasn’t really his fault though. His military career kept him light-years from Earth and he had no family anywhere on the planet. Time and distance had eventually eroded their friendship until it was only a memory. Now, fifteen years later, Doug shows up on Ken’s boat wearing his uniform. Although he was glad to see his old friend again alarm bells were ringing along with the alcohol in Ken’s head.

Scarboro reached into his shirt pocket and extracted a data crystal. “Do you have a reader with a connection to the net?”

Stricklen looked at the data module and scowled. Grabbing his beer and standing up, he replied, “In the house.”

Ken led the way off the boat. They walked single file down the dock then side by side along the gravel path leading up to the house. “How’s Cheryl these days?” Ken asked in a neutral tone making an effort to be civil.

Their shoes created a rhythmic crunching sound on the pea-sized gravel as they worked their way up the slight incline. Ken’s house was beginning to peak through the gaps in the dense woods. “She’s fine,” Doug replied wiping his brow. The black uniform had seemed to turn itself into a cloth oven as it absorbed the sun’s rays. “We’re still married. No kids. She’s a civilian now in charge of the Almaranus military supply depot.”

They crested the top of the rise and walked several meters through the dense forest in silence. Ken’s house was nestled in the woods and had been there for so long it had become a part of it. Its true size did not become apparent until they walked through the oversized solid wood front door. Doug was relieved to find that it was air conditioned.

The house had been built by a distant relative of Ken’s and had been meticulously maintained by the family for generations. It had been passed down from father to son or sons for nearly 200 years. From the outside it appeared to be a large log cabin of the type built in the late nineteenth century. Inside, it had all the conveniences of a modern home while retaining the roughness of a hand-built log cabin.

The two story structure sat in the woods on an isle that jutted out into a small lake in Northern Minnesota. About a hundred meters from the front of the house lay the dock where the sailboat was currently berthed. A private beach lay in the other direction. Being the only son of his father the lake and all of the land within three kilometers of its shore belonged to Ken.

Doug paused inside the entry to take in the expansive main room they had entered. The vaulted ceiling went all the way to the top of the second story. Huge, hand-hewed beams held the roof in place. A beautiful, wooden staircase sporting an ornate banister led up to the second floor. The second floor hallway ran along the top of the back of the main room. A heavy wooden railing prevented falls.

Ken grabbed a light robe off a hanger and threw it on accidentally dumping a small amount of beer on the polished wooden floor as he slid his arm, beer bottle in hand, through the sleeve. Without stopping he walked across the main room. Doug hurried to catch up noting as he did that a small housecleaning robot had appeared and was moving toward the location of the spilled beer. Doug followed Ken through an open doorway at the other end of the room and into a large but cozy study.

An antique desk took up most of the center of the room. Two brown leather chairs sat in front of the desk with a massive, ancient looking, dark leather chair behind. Two sides of the room contained recessed bookshelves stretching from floor to ceiling full of old and new printings. A roll ladder allowed access to the entire extensive collection. Despite modern technology, books were still very popular.

Ken made his way around the desk and stood behind the well worn chair. Behind him a huge window provided a view of the lake and the private beach. “Interface on,” he said. The top of the desk came to life revealing that it was no ordinary desk.

Doug walked over to stand beside his old captain. “This is classified and, before you ask, you’ve already been cleared.”

“What the hell’s going on here Doug? I’m not in the military any more. I haven’t set foot on the bridge of a starship in fifteen years. What can the Navy possibly want from me?”

Doug placed the data crystal on the surface of the desk. A red icon appeared indicating that the contents were encrypted. “This is something you have to see to believe Ken. I’ll let the report speak for itself.”

“And what would happen if I tell you to go away and leave me alone?”

“Then I would turn around and leave. And a few months from now when the news breaks you will kick yourself in the ass for that decision. Besides, this is something Tasha would have wanted you to do.”

A shudder seemed to run through Ken’s body and anger caused him to clench his hands into tight fists. For a brief instant Doug thought Ken was going to hit him. But instead of taking any physical action Ken said, “That was a low blow Doug. I have half a mind to throw you out of here for that remark.”

Tasha had been Ken’s wife. Eighteen months ago she had died from a lethal disease that even the Omel, the biological wizards of the Alliance, had been unable to stop. The couple had been madly in love with each other and had rarely been apart since getting married. Her death had hit Ken hard and he now spent most of his free time drinking rum and staring at the water trying to forget.

Doug put a comforting hand on Ken’s shoulder. “My apologies old friend. But if Tasha were still alive I would be presenting this report to the both of you. Please Ken, at least look at it. That’s all I ask.”

Still angry and hurt, Ken pulled the chair out from under the desk and sat down. “Okay. Let’s see it.”

Doug touched the red icon with his right index finger and said, “Computer, interface with Alliance military network and retrieve decryption program sigma one alpha three nine seven.”

“You have requested access to a restricted network. Authentication is required,” a male voice said from the desk.

“Scan right index finger. Match Scarboro; Commodore; voicelock one-seven-one-nine-retrograde-bubble-exomorph. Download and execute.”

“Authentication verified … Network accessed … Download complete … Decryption program executing … Decryption passphrase required.”

Doug placed his entire palm on the desktop and said, “Palm scan match and verify. Decryption passphrase is ‘the dark has returned’. Decrypt and display map.”

The holographic image of a standard tactical star map appeared above the desktop. “Seven months ago,” Doug began. “An Omel passenger liner vanished without a trace. Its intended path was through this area of space and is shown in blue. Two months later, three Barvinion freighters bound for Tholta also vanished. Their route is shown in yellow.”

Doug put his hands into the display and pretended to grab an area of space. “Notice that the two routes pass through this area. Recognize it?”

“Your mention of the Barvinion’s gave it away,” Ken replied. “That’s one of the new races we came in contact with after the Kyrra performed their little vanishing act. I’m assuming the area of space you are referring to is near the location of the Kyrra fold?”

“Correct. Following the disappearances, all ships traveling near the fold were assigned military escorts. Two months ago a Tholtaran passenger liner along with her escort, a Tholtaran heavy cruiser, seemingly disappeared without a trace.”

“A heavy cruiser? That size ship is no pushover. No transmissions indicating they were under attack?”

“Nothing. A sweep of the ship’s route turned up nothing as well. No debris, no escape pods, nothing. It’s as if they just vanished.”

Ken sipped his beer and leaned back in his chair causing it to creak slightly. “Okay – you have my attention. So where do I fit into all this?”

“I’m getting there,” Doug replied. “We knew something very odd was going on out there. Fifteen separate search groups were sent into the area to perform a detailed sweep. For weeks nothing out of the ordinary could be found. Two weeks ago, a Tholtaran scout group got lucky. Computer, display visual one.”

The star map vanished and the desktop came to life. Four complex tactical screens appeared on the left. The remainder of the desktop split itself into four sections each one showing the bridge of a Tholtaran light cruiser. “Computer, pause,” Doug commanded. “Look familiar?”

Ken’s military memories may have been fifteen years old but they had not faded. “Typical Tholtaran scout group. Four light cruisers in a wide formation with interlinked data nets. All ships receive the same information to improve the chances of at least one of them surviving long enough to send any tactical data back to base. The technology seems to have improved but the technique is an old one.”

“Watch this,” the tone in Doug’s voice indicating that something dramatic was about to happen. “Computer, resume at one quarter speed.”

For five seconds everything appeared to be normal. Suddenly, the tactical displays of all four ships indicated the presence of a tremendously powerful energy source. The readings seemed to indicate that space itself was somehow being torn apart. One of the data links suddenly went black indicating a complete loss of contact with one of the ships. The three remaining cruisers dropped out of stardrive and prepared for battle. There was a brief energy spike and a second data link became dark.

As Ken watched the scene unfold he saw something appear on the external viewer of one of the two remaining Tholtaran ships. Due to the size of the display he couldn’t quite make out what was happening. The data from the tactical sensors indicated the presence of some type of unknown, unbelievably powerful, force field. There was a three second pause in the action then the readings started to fluctuate wildly. The data link from the third cruiser became intermittent then was lost altogether. A second later the readings of the remaining ship returned to normal as if nothing had happened.

Ken was awestruck. He had never before seen anything like what he had just witnessed. One Tholtaran light cruiser had mysteriously vanished, a second had apparently been completely destroyed by a single shot from some type of massive weapon, and a third had experienced some sort of anomaly. “What the hell?” was all he could say.

“You haven’t seen the grand finale yet,” Doug announced. “The Tholtaran’s provided us with an enhanced view of one of ship’s forward visual sensor log. You’re not going to believe this. Computer, display visual two.”

The desktop scene shifted to show a view of space. For a second, the oddly distorted star field of a ship dropping out of stardrive appeared. As the drive field collapsed, the stars popped into focus. Suddenly, what appeared to be a sunlit planet appeared off to one side. Ken couldn’t quite put a finger on it but there was something wrong with what he was seeing. Several ships could clearly be seen in orbit above the planet. Within a few seconds, the signal quality began to degrade and eventually was lost.

Ken leaned forward suddenly intensely interested. “Computer, stop. Replay at one quarter speed.”

Doug closely watched Ken’s reaction as the scene repeated itself in slow motion. The stars shifted, the planet appeared, and a ship came into view. “Computer, stop.” Ken leaned forward to get a better view. “Magnify and enhance the ship.”

The computer obeyed the command and, after a moment, Ken slumped back in his chair and looked at Doug with genuine fear in his eyes. “That’s impossible. That is a Chroniech battleship.”

“Yet there it is,” Doug replied.

Ken tipped his beer and drained the small amount that remained. He looked at the bottle as if it had failed to hold the correct amount of liquid then got up and walked over to the mini-bar. On his way he said, “What the hell were we looking at anyway? Some sort of breach through the Kyrra fold? I thought that was impossible.”

“Before I answer that, did you notice anything else in the video?”

Ken dropped his empty bottle into a trash receptacle. It landed with a loud bang. He poured himself a large glass of rum, downed a mouthful, refilled the glass, and settled back into the recliner he had vacated a moment ago. He was still trying to shake off the effects of seeing a Chroniech ship – something he had hoped to never lay eyes on again.

With some effort, he pushed aside the memories of fifteen years ago that were trying to make themselves evident and concentrated on the problem at hand. “Yep – and it’s a big one too. Where the hell did that weapon fire come from? Whatever mounted it must have been absolutely tremendous. It blew through the Tholtaran’s shield like it wasn’t even there.”

Doug walked around the desk and settled into a chair. “The data returned by the Tholtarans has been subjected to intense analysis by some of the best minds of the Alliance. The consensus is that the Chroniech have somehow managed to breach the hyperdimensional barrier. It doesn’t appear as if they are able to maintain it for very long but for a few seconds they managed to open a gateway between our space and theirs.”

“That means they’re here!” Ken exclaimed.

“We don’t think so,” Doug replied. “Did you notice anything odd about the planet?”

Ken replayed the scene in his mind again and still couldn’t pinpoint why the video seemed odd. “Something wasn’t right but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Doug said smiling a bit. “You can’t see the whole planet. What you saw was the view from our space into the fold. It’s like looking through a peephole in a locked door.”

Ken felt his original question had not yet been fully answered. “If the Chroniech can create a hole through the hyperdimensional field into our space then I don’t see how you can say they have not managed to send any ships through.”