by Don Foxe
He spoke to Coop without speaking to him. His monologue delivered as if he simply vocalized his thoughts.
“Since it appears I have fallen behind with recent events on your side of the galaxy, I used the time spent coming to get you to catch up. Humans have been a busy lot this last century. While I was occupied on the other side of the galaxy, this side certainly changed.”
Coop had stopped. D’Sey continued ahead a few feet before realizing.
“You work for the Martians? You’re not a Martian?”
“My family has been in service to them for half-a-million years,” D’Say answered. His matter-of-fact tone made the number ‘half-a-million’ seem inconsequential. “I am not a Martian. At least, no more than you, or another thousand species in the galaxy can trace their origins to them. Please follow, Captain. There is a comfortable room on the other side of that door, and I will try to be more concise. I promise.”
Cooper did not trust the stranger, but he had few choices. He followed, leaving the hangar and entering a den. The first thing to catch his attention was the view. A far wall displayed a black hole in the distance. Space around the hole vibrated with yellow light. Colored gases of solid and mixed hues hung throughout the void between his perspective and the black hole. Thousands of twinkling stars scattered around the edges of space. Impossible to determine if he looked out from a window or onto a projection. He scanned the interior before continuing further.
The room contained three large sectional sofas, a half-dozen club chairs, and a stocked bar along one wall. Stocked with what, he had no clue, but it rivaled the bar in the Officer’s Club on EMS2.
D’Say walked behind the bar. He returned with a glass of brown, effervescent liquid, handing the chill glass to his guest. Coop tasted the drink, while D’Sey made himself comfortable in a club chair facing the black hole.
“Cola,” Coop said. “With ice,” he added. He joined his host, taking the club chair to D’Sey’s right.
“I didn’t think you needed anything stronger just yet,” D’Sey replied. He waited for Coop to sit before continuing.
“We don’t have time for a full-blown history lesson, Captain. I’ll keep this briefing brief, and I’ll try to stay on point.”
The video screen displayed the spiral star systems that created the Milky Way Galaxy. Not a window.
“The Martians have been flying around the galaxy for millions of years. They discovered billions of worlds with the potential for life. For life to occur, even the most simplistic forms of living organisms, you need all the right things to happen within a relatively short window of opportunity. For those life-forms to evolved into sentient beings is an astronomical crapshoot. The Martians decided to load the dice.”
The video changed to show a silver spaceship shaped like a giant kidney bean.
“They seeded planets with the biological and chemical agents necessary for the development of living organisms. Then, for the most part,they allowed the experiment to develop on its own.”
“The Martians are responsible for sentient life in the galaxy?” Coop asked.
“Not all sentient life. Life developed and evolved naturally on millions of worlds. There are species in this galaxy that resemble humanoids in no manner at all. There are sentient, highly evolved races, that would scare a human to death. Billions of planets remain barren of life, or provide a home to non-sentient lifeforms.”
The view returned to the Milky Way.
“There are also hundreds of species and thousands of races which are direct descendants of the Martians.”
“They were humanoid,” Coop said.
“Obvious,” D’Sey replied. “The scout ship Fairchild’s group discovered on Mars was designed for use by humanoids. That ship, and the tech discovered in the storage hangar, lead to the creation of your Space Fleet. Of all the worlds, in all this time, humans are the only ones to reverse-engineer Martian technology to develop their own interstellar engines. Amazing.”
“Have other species discovered abandoned Martian technology?”
“There are thousands of old Martian outposts in the galaxy, and more than a few have been discovered,” D’Sey said. “Most were cleared out before being abandoned. The discovery of ruins become an unexplained mystery to those finding them. A few have been found with equipment, records, and trash. No other discovery led to using the technology left behind. Nathan Trent, your friend who did so, is someone I must meet one day. The origins DNA-pair within his gnome must be extremely dominate.”
“So Martian’s seeded potential planets, and then just stepped back to see what would happen?”
“The Martians want sentient lifeforms to evolve as naturally as possible. They believe, left to their own devices, some of these races will mature into the benevolent guardians the galaxy needs to expand and grow until time ends.”
“Benevolent guardians. Is that how the Martians see themselves? Guardians?”
“Are you familiar with the Sagittarius Dwarf Galaxy?” D’Sey asked. The screen changed to display another galaxy. A spheroid of stars and gases appeared, hanging within, slightly below a depiction of the Milky Way Galaxy.
“A group of around a billion stars swallowed into the Milky Way Spiral,” Coop replied. “No black hole in the center we know of. On an elliptic orbit that is deteriorating as the Milky Way tears it apart and absorbs the pieces.”
“Home to the species, Basfor Flyn,” the stranger said, taking a sip from his own glass. “The Basfor Flyn conquered a large part of their galaxy. They are neither benevolent, or restrained. A million years ago they dispatched drones into the Milky Way. These drones came to build millions of wormhole channels. The Basfor Flyn use wormholes to travel between star systems.”
“The wormhole channels used by the space-capable planets in our galaxy?” Coop asked.
“The same. Channels used by all of the interstellar travelers in this galaxy, except Martians, a small number of Martian agents, and, now, the planet Earth. Channels used by Basfor Flyn armadas to invade the Milky Way Galaxy nearly one-million-years ago.”
“Really. And no one knows about this invasion? I’ve read a lot of alien works over the past year, and none of the races talk about an invasion from the Sagittarius Dwarf Galaxy.”
D’Sey smiled, and nodded at the screen. A battle rages in the blue sky above a planet. The view pulled back to reveal Earth.
“Your own history records stories of incredible battles in the skies of your planet,” he said. “Indian mythology gives detailed descriptions of nuclear warheads. There are ancient sites with pictographs of ships, aliens, weapons, and battles. These confrontations occurred throughout the galaxy.”
“You said a million years ago,” Coop countered. “Civilization on Earth is not that old.”
“Your current civilization, perhaps not,” D’Sey replied. “Civilizations existed on your planet long before your current records indicate. Do you really believe a planet that sustained life for hundreds of millions of years just recently developed a sentient culture? Civilizations have come and gone a half-dozen times. Destroyed by wars, astronomical phenomenon, planetary shifts, pandemics, and then rebuilt on the ashes.”
The Earth appeared in 3-D, fires raging across the surface.
“One of the major battles between the Martians and the Basfor Flyn occurred in your solar system.”
“Where are the Bafor Flyn now? For that matter, where are the Martians?”
“The Martians pushed the Basfor Flyn out of the Milky Way. Thanks, in great part, to technology like space-fold travel. The Martians who survived remain in their home system. They keep an eye on the Basfor Flyn’s Galaxy. They also created a police force. Agents dispatched to keep the playing fields safe inside the galaxy.”
“You’re a galactic cop?”
“More like a referee,” D’Sey answered. “The Martians still want as many worlds to evolve naturally as possible. They stay out of the way until a species evolves to the point of interstellar travel
. They begin to take more of an interest after that.”
D’Sey placed his drink on the floor, and turned to look directly at Cooper.
“When a civilization decides to forcefully disrupt the development of other worlds, they become concerned. When that disruption turns violent, or worse, genocidal, they dispatch an agent. The agent decides if an intervention is necessary.”
“Like the Mischene using the Zenge to invade the Trade-Alliance worlds?” Coop asked. “Did they dispatch you to do something about this conflict?”
“Actually, no. We have been on the far side of the galaxy. A couple of confederations are about to come to blows. In fact, because of that situation, I have been absent this part of the galaxy for nearly one-hundred years. In that short amount of time, the Mischene problem developed, while Earth became a dominant player in local galactic politics.”
D’Sey gave Coop an air-toast with his glass, and told him, “You did a pretty good job handling the Mischene and Zenge without out help.”
“It isn’t over,” Coop said.
“Not as long as the Devee are around,” D’Sey responded.
“Who are the Devee?”
“Off the subject,” the other man said. “I promised to remain on point.”
“So why are you here?” Coop asked.
“I need help with the situation on the other side of the galaxy. The other agents with space-fold technology are equally busy, so they can’t assist at the moment. The Martians believe you might be a potential new agent. I’m here to ask for your help, and use the situation as a field test.”
“I appreciate the offer, D’Sey,” Coop said. “But things on this side of the galaxy are not settled. I can’t leave my friends, or my planet to play cops and robbers with you.”
“Captain Cooper, you need to consider a few things before making that decision. The dust-up in this part of the Milky Way is a skirmish. You effectively stopped the Mischene. All that’s left is to sweep out the trash. The larger threat to peace will come from the planet Devistar.”
“Once more. Why?” Coop asked.
“If you agree to help us, I’ll provide the intel you need to keep the Devee in check,” D’Sey answered.
“Extortion?”
“Payment. There is a confrontation between confederations in the great spiral arm you designate as The New Outer Arm. Ninety-nine-thousand-light-years across the Milky Way, and on the far side of the black hole in the center of our galaxy. The section of interest is much younger than this part of the galaxy. A relatively young specie evolved and developed interstellar travel more quickly than any other since the Martians.”
The screen changed, displaying a time-lapse trip across space, through a black hole, ending at stars sitting on the edge of a dark void.
“The Helacene,” he said, the view moving in to a single star, and finally the third planet orbiting the star. “Matriarchal civilization. As they discovered inhabited planets, they offered assistance where needed. Where the Trading Alliance Worlds make it illegal to interact with civilizations who have not developed interstellar flight, the Helacene decided contact on a case-by-case basis. If a world needed help to feed the population, or fight disease, they provided it. If natural disasters created misery, they stepped in with aid. Civilization on the brink of new discoveries were sometimes given a boost.”
“Flies in the face of the Martian’s non-intervention practice,” Coop remarked.
“The Martians want civilizations to develop naturally,” D’Sey countered. “The Hela are generous, benevolent people at their core. They have created a confederation of nineteen star systems and twenty-six inhabited planets. They watch over another two dozen planets with sentient lifeforms, but with no need of intervention.”
“Benevolent overseers,” Coop said. “The hope of the Martians?”
“Perhaps,” D’Sey acknowledged. “If they aren’t eliminated by the Kashōn.”
“I assume the Kashōn are the reason you need my help?”
“The Kashōn are descendants of the Basor Flyn forces abandoned in the Milky Way following their defeat. In much the same way you and I descended from the Martians. It is genetically infused in them to empire build. Over the last half-million years they evoled from castaways to rediscovering technology. They are a warrior species, and much of their time and resources spent designing weapons. When they discovered wormhole travel, their initial action was to invade and enslave the first star system they visited.”
“Why didn’t the Martians act then?”
“Martians are not gods, Captain. The galaxy is not small, and resources are finite. A million bad things happen across the stars every minute. When the Kashōn overran over one-hundred planets, annexing each into the Kashōn Empire, word of the vicious actions finally reached a Martian listening post. It took a long time, and stories retold by thousands of escapees.”
D’Sey placed his drink on the floor and stood. The screen changed to a 3-d image of a fierce-looking alien. The image rotated, displaying a blocky body, wide across the shoulders, deep through the chest, with large, powerful legs.
“The Martians dispatched Clyde to scout the Kashōn Empire. He found a species that is bipedal. Symmetrical hominoid shape. Large, thick-boned heads with two eyes, snout, and mouth. Males show spiral horns growing out from the temples. They average six-feet, and three-hundred pounds of muscle, sinew, and bone. High intelligence, and low tolerance for other beings. He discovered the stories regarding the Kashōn invading, and enslaving other worlds were true.”
“In spite of advanced technology, creation of massive cities, and the ability to travel through wormhole channels, they continue to wear clothing similar to their earliest ancestors. A galea-style helmet, cut to allow their horns to show, but still protect the head and face. Sleeveless vest made of segmented armour able to prevent penetration by smaller laser fire or bladed weapons. Arm guards of the same material. A kilt of animal skin, and armoured greaves to protect the legs. They wear heavy-soled sandals.”
“You’re describing a Roman soldier,” Coop said.
“Similar, I suppose. Same mentality for sure,” the other replied. “Except Roman soldiers did not carry laser pistols on their belts, or force-lances that could bring down a wall. Just like your Roman Legionnaires, they carry knives and short, double-edged swords. Not for show. The Kashōn prefer to kill up close and with as much damage as they can inflict.”
“You were sent to confront an entire Empire?”
“At that time, things were pretty quite in this quadrant. I was dispatched to make a closer inspection. Clyde dropped us off between the Hela Confederation and the Kashōn Empire. I needed intel, so we raided a few Kashōn supply ships. We collected data from their files, took anything that appeared valuable, and freed a few slaves.”
“Raided? As in pirated?” Coop asked.
“I’ve used the pirate-theme for a few centuries,” D’Sey replied. “It allows me to raid ships, board, and loot without anyone attributing the attack to another world. Since I’m unaffiliated, the reason always appears to be profit.”
“Do you make a profit?”
“Usually,” he admitted. “In the case of the slaves, we turned them over to civilizations associated with the Helacene Confederation for other goods. Gave me the opportunity to see how the Hela operate up close and set up future contacts. They consider Menace a privateer, and as long as I do not target Hela Confederation ships or outposts, they don’t shoot first when we show up.”
“And the Kashōn?”
“Wanted dead not alive by the Empire,” D’Sey replied, amused. “The Kashōn do not allow unauthorized or unaffiliated ships in their space. I was never going to be able to fly through Empire-controlled regions without going unchallenged. As a pirate vessel, they don’t like me, but they don’t consider me a priority, either. Species like the Kashōn are marauders. I suspect there is some small amount of respect for Menace.
“I also deliver black-market goods to worlds under
Kashōn rule. They get needed supplies, and I get intel.”
“And make a profit?”
“Okay, so I get more than intel, and I keep my cover,” D’Sey answered. “I’ve kept this up for almost one-hundred years.”
“What changed?” Coop asked. “You’re here, looking for a recruit with access to space-fold. Something happened that caught you off guard.”
“The Kashōn Empire has been advancing toward the Hela Confederation for decades, but nothing indicated any desire for a confrontation. A lot of space still sits between the two groups. The Empire is always involved in logistic problems. They control a lot of planets, but their influence gets thin, especially where civilizations don’t offer anything of value. The King is always fighting an insurrection somewhere. It makes continued expansion less viable. Would you like another drink?”
Coop shook his head. D’Sey refilled his glass, continuing his story from across the bar.
“I told you the Helacene are matriarchal.” Coop nodded. “Suzerain Palla Athodite is their leader. She has three daughters. The eldest is next in line. The next is the spare. They are trained for years to replace their mother. Education, cultural studies, diplomacy, how to dress. When the eldest is crowned, the sister will become her chief counsel.”
“The third daughter?”
“Who knows,” D’Sey replied. “She’s not in training, and rumors say she’s something of a wild-child. Teenager with Mommy’s keys to the kingdom. There are two sons. In this type of society they will be given diplomatic or military positions and expected to fuck their way through life. The issue is the two princesses.”
The wall-screen displayed a brown and ochre planet. The view zoomed down, and across sand dunes similar to North African desert. A walled fortress appeared. The facade large-cut blocks of stone, and the entry a wide arched opening. The scene altered as the camera angle rose to reveal the structure built to enclose an oasis. Glistening pool of water amid lush palm-like greenery.