by Doug Farren
Galactic Alliance
(Book 3)
Honor Thy Enemy
By: Doug Farren
Copyright © 2009
My thanks to my wife Cheryl for her never-ending support and my dad (Ron Farren), the person who got me interested in science fiction.
A true author writes not because he wants to become rich but because he feels he must write. His greatest feeling of accomplishment is knowing that the words he so painstakingly puts on paper are being read and are enhancing the lives of others.
Doug Farren was born in Franklin Pennsylvania but was raised in Minnesota. He likes to call Forest Lake his home town. He joined the U. S. Navy in 1976 where he served as a nuclear electronics technician (reactor operator). He was honorably discharged in 1989 and now works as a senior nuclear instrumentation and control technician at the Perry nuclear power plant in Northern Ohio. He has also done computer programming as a contractor. He has two daughters and is married to a very supportive wife, Cheryl. Doug can be reached through his email account: [email protected].
The Galactic Alliance Series
Book 1 – Translight!
Book 2 – Chroniech!
Book 3 – Honor Thy Enemy
Also check out: The Galactic Alliance: The Story Behind the Story and Technical Reference Manual. Available free at Lulu.com or directly from the author (just send me an email request).
Contents
Prologue
The Komodo Dragon, an Alliance heavy cruiser, is a ship with a distinguished and unique history. While under the command of Captain Ken Stricklen, the cruiser had been instrumental in saving the Alliance from the destructive advances of the Chroniech, a highly intelligent race bent on exterminating all other sentient species capable of challenging them.
Fifteen years ago, the Dragon had chanced upon an ancient derelict vessel. Inside, the crew discovered an operational device powered by a technology far in advance of anything the Alliance had ever encountered. The main device was a scintillating ball of energy surrounding a powerful gravitational field. A detailed analysis of the field and what lay inside it led the researchers to the conclusion that they had discovered a stasis chamber. When it was subsequently deactivated, five individuals from an incredibly old and very advanced race known as the Kyrra where found to be inside.
The Kyrra were a unique species. Nature, through her endless experimentation on different forms of life, had tried a completely different tactic in the development of the ecosystem on the Kyrra home world. Unlike all other known forms of life, the Kyrra evolved in an environment dominated by cooperative coexistence. War, violence, and even competition were unknown to the Kyrra until they reached out into space. The life they encountered beyond the bounds of their home planet shocked and confused them. But, being a highly evolved and adaptable species, they had quickly learned how to deal with these aspects of other life.
The Hess, a mysterious, advanced race which, as far as the Alliance knew, had never ventured into space, requested that the Dragon bring the Kyrra to their home planet as soon as possible. For the first time ever, the Hess had granted permission for a landing upon their home world.
Eager to learn more about the Hess, the Alliance agreed. Shortly after arriving at Shaular, the home planet of the Hess, it was learned that the race did not consist of billions of biological entities but, instead, was a construct of the ancient Kyrra – a probe designed to explore the deepest regions of space.
The Hess requested that the Alliance attempt to locate the Kyrra people which had, for some unknown reason, ceased to communicate with them. The ultimate purpose would be to return the five time traveler’s to their own kind. The journey would take them through Chroniech space. In return for their help, the Hess outfitted the Komodo Dragon with advanced weapons and a very advanced stardrive.
The Chroniech knew the Alliance had found the ancient derelict and, believing it contained advanced weapons technology, relentlessly pursued the Komodo Dragon. This seemingly obsessive quest brought the Chroniech into the Hess star system just as the Dragon was preparing to leave. Despite their incredible technology, the Hess were destroyed when the Chroniech focused the intense beam of the system’s pulsar onto the planet. The Dragon, along with her precious cargo of Kyrra escaped.
The original Kyrra home world had been destroyed by the passing of a rogue neutron star through their system. Finding the Kyrra proved to be difficult but the Dragon was eventually successful. The modern Kyrra had constructed an artificial world and had hidden it from discovery behind a perfect cloaking field. The Kyrra of old were welcomed home with open arms by their descendants.
For thousands of years the Kyrra had remained hidden and isolated from the rest of the galaxy. They had no idea that the Chroniech, the race which had once nearly made them extinct, were once more moving through the galaxy exterminating other races as they went. With the arrival of the Komodo Dragon, the Kyrra had once again been thrust into a conflict with the Chroniech. True to their nature, the Kyrra found a unique solution to the problem.
They first flew their worldship to Almaranus, where they intervened and prevented the Chroniech from destroying the massive Alliance shipyards that orbited the planet. The Kyrra then drove their ship into the heart of Chroniech space. Following an ancient vendetta, and thinking the Kyrra intended to attack their home world, the entire Chroniech fleet followed in an attempt to destroy this seemingly invincible enemy.
Instead of attacking, the Kyrra erected a hyperdimensional field that effectively removed an area of space nearly 1,200 light years in diameter from normal space. The Chroniech had been imprisoned by the Kyrra. The hyperdimensional field had created an odd anomaly within normal space. A ship which approached the edge of the undetectable field would suddenly find itself 1,200 light years from where it would have been had the field not been present.
Although the space enclosed by the hyperdimensional field was still there, it was absolutely unreachable by any known technology. The field itself could not be detected and any ship unaware of its existence would find themselves presented with some unexplainable sensor readings as they approached the boundary.
Since gravity transcended all known dimensions the gravitational effects of any stars, black holes, or planets within the boundary of the hyperdimensional field were detectable. The hyperdimensional field, therefore, did not have any affect on the motion of the stars outside or inside the field.
A ship approaching the field would detect the masses inside but such masses would not show up on any other sensor. What was even more disconcerting was the sudden disappearance of these masses and perhaps the sudden appearance of other masses as the field boundary was traversed. This effect had become known as the Kyrra fold.
The Alliance had been quick to explore the area of space opened up by the Kyrra fold. New worlds and new races had been discovered.
During the journey to find the Kyrra, Stricklen had fallen deeply in love with the Dragon’s councilor, Tashara. They became husband and wife on the return trip. After the war had ended, Ken, along with the love of his life, had chosen to retire and took up residence in his family estate in Northern Minnesota on Earth.
Recalled to Duty
Ken Stricklen, dressed only in shorts, was completely relaxed in the hammock. His mind, assisted by a generous amount of rum, was drifting in and out of the twilight zone between wakefulness and sleep. The hammock rocked gently back and forth in response to the waves quietly slapping against the side of the eight meter sailboat. The summer sun bathed his tanned body in its warm rays.
Through half closed eyes he watched a shadow from a passing cloud make its leisurely way across the surface of the lake. High overhead, a pair of hawks circled looking for prey. The wind whisper
ed through the trees generating a constant, soothing white noise. A Cicada’s high pitched mating call carried across the lake.
The perfection of nature’s concert was shattered by the distinct, impossible to ignore, thump of a shoe hitting heel first on the wooden pier. Ken counted fifteen of the intrusive thumps, each one louder than the one before until they stopped and a voice shouted, “Hello? Anybody aboard?”
For a moment Ken thought about ignoring the intruder but when the voice repeated the question it became obvious the visitor would not be satisfied with silence as an answer. Besides, the voice sounded familiar although Ken could not quite place who it belonged to.
Getting up from the hammock strung between the railing and the main jib on the side of the boat opposite the pier Ken raised his voice and replied, “Who are you looking for?”
“Ken? Is that you?”
Stricklen appeared around the corner of the sailboat’s cabin and almost lost his balance as recognition hit him. The man standing on the pier was dressed in the black, tight fitting, uniform of an officer of the Galactic Alliance space force. The pips on his collar indicated he held the rank of Commodore. The face had aged over the years but the blue eyes and red thatch of unruly hair were unmistakable.
“Doug! What the hell brings you out here? Come aboard,” Ken motioned.
Ken Stricklen, former commanding officer of the Komodo Dragon stared with almost unbelieving eyes as his executive officer of nearly fifteen years ago stepped aboard his current command. The two old friends approached and vigorously shook hands. The difference in height between the two could easily have been seen by an observer on the other side of the lake. Ken’s 73 kilogram mass was proportioned around a frame that stood only 165 centimeters tall. Doug’s 196 centimeters of height not only towered over his former captain but it distributed his 85 kilograms of mass far more proportionally.
“It’s good to see you again sir,” Doug Scarboro said.
“Drop the sir crap,” Ken replied leading them down into the cooler cabin. “I’ve been retired for fifteen years. Beer? Or does the uniform mean you’re on duty?”
“Yes to both,” Doug replied seating himself on the seat running along the port side. He cast a wandering eye around the tiny cabin. The two seats that hugged the port and starboard bulkheads could be quickly converted into beds. A small head occupied the area under the stairs. A stove, microwave, and refrigerator at the bow completed the tiny cabin. “Not quite the Komodo Dragon but, then again, she’s all yours,” Doug remarked.
Ken cracked the tops off two bottles of ice cold beer with a double hiss and handed one to Doug. Sitting across from his old friend he replied, “She’s a good boat – lots of history behind it. My grandfather built it himself. My dad gave it to me when he could no longer use it. I practically live aboard her now.”
Ken up-ended his beer, downed a third of it in several gulps, and belched loudly. Doug watched all this with concern. Although it had been common knowledge on the Dragon that Ken enjoyed his rum, it was also well understood that the old captain never drank excessively. Life’s hard lessons, however, could alter a person and change them in unexpected ways. Shortly after coming aboard, Doug had picked up the unmistakable smell of alcohol on Ken’s breath and now he had watched him down a third of a bottle of beer. This was not the same Ken Stricklen he had known fifteen years ago and Doug was beginning to wonder if this would be a wasted trip.
Holding the bottle in his lap Ken asked, “How’s the old Dragon? Last I heard you had been put in command.”
“Still in service and still the best ship in the whole fleet,” Doug replied with obvious pride. “I reluctantly turned command over to Captain Sheppard four years ago when I made Commodore. I still get to see a lot of her though since the Dragon is assigned to Almaranus defense group three which I now command.”
“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 mod
ern 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.”