by Doug Farren
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.”
Doug admired the fine leather covering of his chair for a moment running the tip of his right index finger over the brass rivets decorating the edge of the armrest. “One of the Tholtaran cruisers was just outside the dividing line between the two spaces. As the breach grew it eventually engulfed the cruiser. According to Falnath the breach is sort of like a two dimensional hole in the hyperdimensional field. The area inside the breach is extremely unstable. There is a good chance the cruiser was destroyed when the breach collapsed. The same thing would have happened to any Chroniech ship trying to cross through to our space.”
Ken stared into his rum. “In other words, you don’t think the breach is stable enough for a ship to safely move between the fold and our space. The Chroniech are still trapped.”
“Precisely. But not for long.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that. What about the weapon that took out the second cruiser? I’ve never seen anything like that before.”
Doug tipped his beer and finished it off. He carefully set the empty bottle down on a coaster before continuing. “Actually, you have, or at least something very similar to it. It has the experts very worried. If the Chroniech manage to open a passable breach into our space, that weapon alone could spell the death of the Alliance. You couldn’t see it on your display but the weapon created a drive wake when it was used.”
“A drive wake! My God – the Chroniech have a faster than light weapon. The only other time I’ve seen a weapon like that was when the Hess took out the Tholtaran juggernaut.”
“That’s not the half of it,” Doug stood up and walked over to the mini bar. He grabbed a glass off the shelf and dropped three ice cubes into it. Each cube clinked as it hit the bottom of the glass then started to pop as he poured water onto them from the bar's built-in spigot. Doug continued as the glass slowly filled. “The tactical analysis of that beam indicates it is most likely based on a technology very closely related to Kyrra antimatter conversion, only on a much larger scale.”
“Kyrra technology in the hands of the Chroniech,” Ken exclaimed. “What the hell has been happening on the other side of the fold for the last fifteen years?”
Doug ignored the outburst, took a sip of his water, and then said, “The amount of raw power contained within that single weapon was staggering. We don’t have a shield mounted on any ship of any size that could even briefly resist it. The Dragon’s Hess shield might be able to deflect that kind of energy for a few seconds but even that is debatable. It is believed the Chroniech developed it to ward off any attacks by the Kyrra. The Kyrra know what the Chroniech are doing and are unable to destroy the facility. They’re worried.”
Despite the alcohol induced buzz Ken’s mind was racing. Doug’s statement lead to only one conclusion, “The Kyrra sent a message!”
“During the short time the hyperdimensional breach occurred, a transmission was beamed through. It was extremely powerful. So strong in fact that it was picked up on Almaranus. The message was highly compressed and utilized an encryption algorithm employed by the Kyrra – the same algorithm we have been using since they gave us the use of their long range communications network.”
Doug turned around and faced his old captain. “They’ve asked for our help Ken. That’s why I’ve told you this and that’s why I’m here. The Kyrra have asked for several people by name; people they have known in the past; people they feel comfortable with. Your name is at the top of that very short list.”
“Me? I’m a retired captain who hasn’t seen a bridge in over fifteen years. What good could I be?”
“I don’t know Ken,” Doug honestly replied. Inwardly, he was asking the same question. The loss of his wife had sent Ken into a depression from which he had yet to recover. Doug feared that his old friend’s current emotional state would be a serious detriment to any mission he might agree to. But, orders were orders and he was obligated to ask.
“What I do know is that the Kyrra saved our ass once and now they are asking for our help to quite possibly save it again. We don’t have a lot of time to prepare so I will ask you this question only once. Are you in or not?”
“Prepare? For what?”
“The Kyrra are going to momentarily drop the hyperdimensional barrier which will give the Dragon just enough time to cross into Chroniech space. At the same time, they will be sending three ships over to our side.”
“Can I see the message?” Ken asked.
Doug answered as he walked back over to the desk, the ice clinking softly in his glass. “It’s text only and most of it consists of star chart data and logistical details. But, if you want to read it…Computer, display the Kyrra transmission.”
Ken downed the last of his rum then stood up to better see the display. For several seconds he stared at the message. The preamble was short, explaining the situation and providing a list of people the Kyrra had requested to be part of the mission into Chroniech space. Only three names appeared; his followed by Tasha’s then Doug’s. The rest of the short list contained only job descriptions. There was a second list of names of people the Kyrra wanted to work with on the Alliance side of the barrier when they arrived.
Doug stood facing Ken with the modernized desk between them. He reached forward and picked the data crystal off the desk causing the surface to return to it’s original, antique appearance. Into the silence that had descended Doug quietly said, “You can join the mission as a paid civilian or I am authorized to grant you a full reinstatement to the rank of Captain giving you some additional authority. The Dragon is at Almaranus being outfitted and upgraded for the mission. The Kyrra were kind enough to send us some interesting enhancements to the Dragon’s current Hess equipment. You won’t be in command, but you’ll get to see her in action again.”
Stricklen’s mind was a hazy blur of disconnected thoughts. He felt doubt as he wondered if he had retained his skills as a military Captain; joy as he reminisced over his time aboard the Komodo Dragon; sorrow when memories of Tasha surfaced; anticipation of once again seeing his furry Kyrra friends; and finally anger as he remembered who and what the Chroniech were.
Doug carefully watched as the various emotions Ken felt were expressed on his face. Hoping to persuade him, he added, “This is a one time only offer Ken. To my knowledge, the Alliance has never reinstated a retired officer, especially someone retired as long as you’ve been, to the rank they had prior to retirement. They’re offering you a unique opportunity Ken, one I would be hard pressed to turn down if the tables had been turned. To be honest, I thought fleet command had lost their mind. If I were in your shoes I would jump at the offer.”
“I stand in my own shoes,” Ken said. Still undecided, he bowed his head and stared into his empty glass. In a barely audible voice he said, “I don’t know… I don’t want to leave… we met on the Dragon.” He stopped talking as his empty glass started to shake.
Doug reached across the desk and put a comforting hand on the shoulder of his old friend. In a soothing voice he said, “I know how much she meant to you Ken. But you can’t live out the rest of your life in mourning for her. Tasha wouldn’t approve of it and I sure the hell know she wouldn’t want you to be sitting here drinking your rum while the Chroniech overran the Alliance.”
Ken stood up and faced Doug. Anger contorted his face but as he looked into Doug’s calm and genuinely caring eyes he came to the realization that his friend was right. Ken took a deep breath and set the glass down on the desk as he came to a decision. “I won’t ride the Komodo Dragon as a civilian. I will accept the offer and reinstatement to the rank of Captain under one condition: I want to be out there,” he gesticulated toward the ceiling, “fighting those bastards. I don’t want to sit on the sidelines.”
Doug was relieved. “Agreed. We have very little time. We need to be off-planet by tomorrow morning if we are to m
eet the Kyrra schedule.”
“Tomorrow! I’ve got to get The Good Life out of the water and into storage, close up the cabin, and a million other things. I’ll need at least a week.”
“The space force will take care of putting things in order here. Just put any special instructions you might have on a crystal. A shuttle will land on your beach tomorrow morning at zero eight hundred sharp. I should head back so you can start packing.”
Outside, the wind had picked up slightly creating an audible hissing noise as it wound its way through the dense forest canopy. Doug stopped, turned around, snapped to attention, and executed a salute. “Welcome back Captain!”
Stricklen returned the salute, then cast his eyes around. After a moment he asked, “By the way – how the hell did you get here?”
“I knew you were pretty isolated. The shuttle dropped me off at a private field about thirty kilometers South of here and I used an ATS to drive the rest of the way.”
Ken stopped and looked around. “They let you use an all terrain scout? You’re a high ranking officer in the space force not a ground pounder.”
“Rank has its privileges,” Doug replied. Noticing that Ken was still trying to locate the vehicle he continued, “It’s parked a few meters from your garage in your turn around. You know, it’s not much different from the four-wheeler I drove around back home as a teen. I had almost forgotten how much fun it is to go off-roading.”
Ken extended his hand and as they shook said, “Have a safe trip back Doug. I guess I will see you tomorrow morning.”
“It’s good to see you again Ken. I just wish it had been under different circumstances.”
Ken watched Doug’s retreating back as he followed the gravel pathway toward the garage which had been built a fair distance from the house.
Back in Space
At 0800 sharp a small craft appeared in the sky and silently descended to a soft landing on Stricklen’s private beach. The hatch dropped down to form a ramp and three people emerged. They looked around for a moment and started walking toward the house.