"Worship the Emperor for he is wise and compassionate," Zeck intoned.
Shaking his head in disgust, Tom replied, "Shut your pie hole, Emperor. You too Zeck. If you keep up the bullshit, I'll have you both thrown back in your cells."
Horcunt had no idea what a pie hole was, but one thing he'd learned about the inhabitants of planet HG-281 was they didn't take no for an answer. The threat of being returned to jail couldn't be ignored. Deciding he'd play along with the Human animal a while longer, Horcunt nodded his head. There'd be ample opportunities for revenge in the coming days. His train of thought was interrupted.
"We're going to Chrysalis to rescue our people. You're going with us."
"Impossible!" Horcunt exploded. "I won't expose myself to certain death on a suicide mission."
When the expression on Tom's face didn't change, Horcunt whined, "I know you've seen the videos of our battles. Nothing can withstand the weaponry power of the Asiddians. Only an insane person would dare confront them."
Ignoring the lizard's anxiety, Tom said, "You left your subjects to their miserable fate when you abandoned them to the Asiddians. Based on the courage and character of Whatsit, I'm betting a good number of Chrysallamans formed pockets of resistance to the invaders. I expect your people will welcome you back with open arms once we find them."
Pleased by the look of sheer panic in Horcunt's eyes, Tom added. "Don't worry Emperor. In just a few days you'll be back amongst your loyal subjects."
Chuckling at the reaction of the Emperor, McPherson reached into one of his pockets and tossed PDS necklaces to Horcunt and Zeck.
"You better put those on," he warned. "They'll protect you from Asiddian laser beams as well as misguided attempts by some malcontent Chrysallamans to assassinate you. It'd be a shame for you to get killed before we return to Earth."
Hisspat hastily donned his necklace and helped the Emperor with his. He knew from experience the PDS worked.
McPherson touched the FLR bud in his right ear, listened momentarily and said, "Colonel Stoneman's back. He'll be landing shortly."
"Landing what?" Zeck asked.
Something huge blotted out the sun. Most people pulled off their sunglasses since they were no longer needed. A hot wind blew across the concrete as a massive structure floated down to the tarmac, pushing the air out from under it in a gush as it settled onto its four hydraulically cushioned landing legs. If it hadn't been for the wide lighting strip circling the circumference of the saucer's underbelly, they would've been in almost total darkness from the shadow cast by the huge craft.
The Destinnee was a little over twice the size of a mother ship. It was 1,200 feet in diameter and 320 feet thick. Around the circumference of its upper half were docking bays for ten scout saucers. An array of antennas jutted from the top of the craft. The hull was now dark gray with subtle black highlights instead of the original gold tone the Emperor had favored. The outermost edge of the disc shaped craft was lined with a glowing blue strip where the emitters for the force field and energy ray weapons had been installed.
The Chrysallaman starburst logos molded into the upper hull had been replaced with FORCE logos. Heinbaum had instructed his engineers to imbed thousands of LED's in the emblems to make them glisten when the lights were activated. Jason had energized the lights, and they blazed in an undeniable expression of Human ownership and control of the gigantic vessel.
The landing legs were as wide as two-lane highways and sloped up into the interior of the craft. Forklifts began running pallets of supplies up three of the ramps, and the commandos started boarding via the remaining ramp.
"I like the new paint job," McPherson said.
"Yes," Heinbaum responded. "The gold tone was awful. Reminded me of a pair of shiny brass lamps my grandmother kept on her sofa end tables. Hated those things."
"What have you ignorant savages done to my flagship?" Horcunt gasped.
"Just a little remodeling and a few upgrades," McPherson replied. "Knocked out a few walls to create open space. New drapes, oak cabinets and some ceramic tile. Granite countertops."
Smiling at the open mouthed bulging eyed stare Horcunt fixed on him, McPherson added, "You'll simply fall in love with the new paint colors. Our interior decorator says her color scheme is one of the greatest achievements of her career."
"Don't forget Lloyd," Heinbaum added. "He'd be very upset if you forget to mention him."
"Thank you for remembering me Dr. Heinbaum," a mellow voice replied telepathically.
Looking generally in the direction of the Destinnee, Heinbaum responded, "Not at all dear fellow. What is the general state of readiness for departure?"
"At current loading efficiencies, Destinnee will be ready for liftoff in 33 minutes, 18 seconds."
"Excellent. Have you been introduced to our guest Chriks?"
"Based upon my records, I recognize Emperor Terr Horcunt and General Hisspat Zeck. Good afternoon Gentlemen. Your armed escort will guide you to your quarters. I trust you will have a pleasant voyage. If not, please note your complaints in writing and drop them into the mail slot marked File 13. I assure you they will be given all the attention they deserve."
"Who is Lloyd?" Hisspat asked.
"Lloyd is our artificial intelligence computer. He was created as a Layered Logical Object-Oriented Yottabyte Domain, but he prefers Lloyd; don't you Lloyd?"
"Most certainly Doctor. The name Lloyd is derived from a Welsh adjective meaning gray and is Celtic in origin. The proud Scottish people are also Celtic. As a logical deduction, I am distantly related to the good Captain Jerome McPherson."
"Have you been monkeying around with his speech algorithm?" Heinbaum growled as he turned to stare at McPherson.
"Just wanted to help," the red haired demon replied. "A sense of humor never hurt anyone."
"I'll deal with your interference later. You will not turn Lloyd into your Scottish alter ego!"
Shaking his head at the never-ending spat between Heinbaum and McPherson, Tom said, "Sergeant Witherspoon. Take our guest Chriks to their quarters and orient them with the ship's layout."
"Yes sir."
Wide-eyed with shock and surrounded by FORCE commandos who nudged them into motion, Horcunt and Zeck walked up the troop ramp and disappeared into the bowels of the ship.
After they were gone, Tom said, "I have a few administrative chores to complete, and then I'll meet you on the bridge."
With those words he strode up the ramp into the Destinnee.
Closing his laptop computer and stuffing it into a carry-on bag, Heinbaum said, "I hate to say this, but I'm excited about this trip. I've never had the pleasure of kicking someone's proverbial ass, and I think I might just get the chance in the next few days."
Shaking his head, McPherson said, "Your job is to keep this spaceship and all its weapons working. Just leave the arse kicking to me little buddy."
"Perhaps," Heinbaum answered with a look of determination. "But I wore my steel-toed wing-tips just in case I get the chance."
Splaying his feet so his white and brown shoes stuck out from under his cuffed trouser legs, Heinbaum proudly displayed them.
Grinning at the ridiculous wing-tips and shaking his head, McPherson picked up the computer bag and followed Heinbaum up the ramp into the mammoth spacecraft.
Chapter 3 – Change
One of the first things Horcunt noticed as he boarded the Destinnee was the increased lighting and varying color scheme. The passageways were at least twice as brightly lit as before, and the dull gray tones favored by Chrysallamans had been changed to complementary shades of blue, green, brown, tan, crimson and white. Telepathic guide tokens on all the decks had been energized and glowed to anyone with the mental abilities to see them.
The original design of the Destinnee was based around the comfort and convenience of Emperor Horcunt. Cabins for his entourage of maids, cooks, housekeepers, valets, footmen, doctors, nurses and concubines took up almost 40% of living space available after
taking into account the area needed for power, propulsion, weapons, stasis pods and life support. The complement of Royal Guards necessary to provide adequate round the clock protection for the Emperor had used up the remaining 60% of available space. The new interior layout was oriented towards humans.
Bulkheads had been removed in many areas of the ship, and the resulting spacious accommodations for crew's quarters, cafeterias and exercise rooms were startling. A swimming pool with attendant water park features captivated even the normally reserved Emperor. From the moment he entered the Natatorium, Horcunt was astonished at the number of Chrysallamans riding what was called a log flume. At first the telepathic screams of excitement as ten Chrysallamans plunged 30 feet down a slide while they sat inside a fake log were annoying. Yet as he watched the Chrysallamans excitedly run back up the ramps for another go at the slide, Horcunt thought he might like to try the activity.
The wide passageways were crowded, and both Zeck and Horcunt were startled to see humans and Chrysallamans working together. Everyone they passed seemed to have a purpose. No one paid them the least bit of attention, and Horcunt was angered by the lack of recognition and respect he received. Unable to tolerate his apparent invisibility, Horcunt sidestepped his guards, planted himself in front of a pair of Chrysallamans walking down the passageway and waited for them to acknowledge his royal personage.
Both Chrysallamans, one male and one female, were dressed in standard khaki coveralls. A patch labeled Engineering with their name just below it was stitched above their left breast pocket, and a FORCE logo adorned their shoulders. They were engrossed in a discussion about a wiring diagram displayed on an iPad and almost bumped into Horcunt when he stopped in front of them. It took a couple of seconds for them to transition from their technical discussion to focusing attention on the Emperor.
The female was approximately 25 years old with nicely manicured claws. She must've had a rebellious streak because a ring of silver metal pierced her left nostril; typical jewelry for some humans but very unconventional for a Chrysallaman. She'd applied dark green eyeliner that accented her black eyes beautifully. In spite of the generational divide, the aging ruler had to admit he found her attractive. The male appeared to be in his thirties. His corrective glasses were dark, thick rectangular plastic frames held in place by a black elastic band attached to the temples. He reminded Horcunt of some bookish teachers he'd had as a teenager.
The female named Roobee was the first to speak.
"Hi Emp. Heard you'd shown up."
Straightening to his full height and lifting his chin with practiced imperial superiority, Horcunt responded, "When you address me, you will call me Emperor or Your Majesty. Now show due respect and bow before your Sovereign Ruler."
To his amazement, Roobee laughed, "Empy, Empy, Empy. You're not in charge of me. I'm what's called a feminist here on Earth, and no man is going to tell me what to do. Especially some creepy old dude with a superiority complex."
Shocked speechless, Horcunt lifted his finger and was about to admonish her when the male Chrysallaman named Rallphh said, "Mr. Horcunt, Roobee and I are busy with launch preparations, and you're delaying us. Perhaps we'll see you later."
"Ta-ta," Roobee added along with a finger wave as they sidled past the guards and walked away.
"Ta-ta? What is ta-ta?"
"It appears the humans have polluted the minds of the Chrysallaman youth! No respect for their betters," Hisspat replied. "This blatant corruption of Chrysallaman morality and allegiance to their beloved leader must be addressed at once!"
"And it shall!" Horcunt thundered.
"I think you're in for a rude awakening, Emperor Horcunt," Sergeant Witherspoon said as he nudged the two Chriks toward their quarters. "I have five kids; two boys and three girls. They're all independent and headstrong. I learn as much from them as they learn from me. One thing I know for sure is the greatest asset a parent has is the love and respect of his children. You don't love and respect your people, and they don't appear to love or respect you."
"Obedience and fear of death are the only responses I require of my subjects," Horcunt replied with a sniff. "Love and respect are useless wastes of time and effort. A heavy metal hammer applied with liberal abandon will soften the toughest meat and if necessary will bash an obdurate skull into submission. Works every time."
Just then they reached a hatch painted with alternating black and yellow chevrons labeled 'Terr Horcunt and Hisspat Zeck, Prisoners'.
Zeck regarded the paint job on the hatch with horror filled eyes.
"What is this? I demand to see General Blunt! Some prankster has defaced the hatch leading to the royal chambers with graffiti and demeaning labels."
Ignoring the protest, Witherspoon placed his hand on the palm reader in the bulkhead, and the hatch slid open.
As the guards shoved Horcunt and Zeck into the sparsely furnished cabin, Witherspoon said, "A little advice. You should spend the next few hours writing out a sincere apology to the Chrysallamans you abandoned over 30 years ago. It may be the only thing that saves your life once we reunite you with your obedient and loving subjects."
Smiling at the shocked look on the Emperor's face, he touched the electronic panel, and the hatch slammed close.
***
The design of the Bridge on the Destinnee wasn't what Tom expected when he stepped off the elevator. It was the first time he'd ever set foot in the Command Center, and his preconceived notions about how it should look were biased by years of science fiction television shows and movies. Schooled by the bridge layouts on Star Trek, the Empire's Death Star and even by the command center on a Chrysallaman Mother ship, Tom thought he would step into a huge open space perhaps 50 feet wide and 100 feet deep with dozens of workstations manned by multiple crew members. The reality was so different from what he anticipated it took him a few moments to wipe the disappointed look off his face.
The space was small for the bridge of such an enormous craft. It was 25 feet square with a domed overhead at least 15 feet high at its center. The dome, the bulkheads and the deck had a dark glassine appearance that reminded Tom of the mirror-like black sheen on his LCD TV screen when it was turned off. The bulkhead opposite the elevator entry was dominated by a HiDef monitor filling most of the available wall space. The screen displayed the mountain range west of the Nevada base. The picture was so crystal clear Tom could see a Golden eagle gliding in an updraft over a mile away.
Four flight couches were aligned in a semi-circle facing the wall-sized monitor; two on the starboard side and two on the port side. A wide aisle between them led into an open area in the forward end of the compartment. Each couch had its own control console surrounding it in a u-shape. Communications and Weapons Control stations were on the starboard side. Navigation and Engineering stations on the port side. The command couch was centered 6 feet back from the Communication and Navigation positions. Recessed LED's strategically placed around the compartment glowed with a soft light; easy on the eyes yet bright enough to show every detail on the control panels. A hatch on the starboard side of the Bridge led to the Command Conference Room, and the layout of that compartment mimicked Tom's Staff Conference Room in the Nevada facility right down to the overhead monitors above a round table.
A hatch on the port side of the Bridge led to a cafeteria and bathrooms.
"General Blunt on the Bridge," Lloyd announced.
Everyone in the compartment stopped what they were doing and stood at attention.
"At ease. Please continue with your duties."
Jason Stoneman, who had the most experience piloting spacecraft other than the late Alex Fields, was the acting Commander of Destinnee. Ending a conversation he'd been having with Amanda, he walked over to join Tom.
"How do you like the layout?"
"I'll have to admit I was expecting something a little bit more spacious. I almost feel like a canned sardine."
"Let me show you something," Jason said with a grin. "But take heed.
It's a little startling the first time you experience the phenomenon."
Looking in the general direction of the main viewscreen, Jason said, "Lloyd would you please activate the VIEW."
"View of what?" Tom asked.
Suddenly the Destinnee disappeared.
"What the . . ," Tom exclaimed as he stood alongside Jason in open air 300 feet above the concrete tarmac.
The deck, bulkheads and overhead dome had completely vanished. It was as if he'd been transported into the air above the Nevada Base with nothing between him and the concrete tarmac except the soles of his shoes. Overcome with spatial disorientation and flailing his arms in a useless attempt to stop himself from falling, Tom stumbled and was about to fall when Jason grabbed him. Glancing to his right, Tom saw the command couch and the four flight couches surrounded by their control panels. He knew the stations were bolted to the deck, but every other structural part of the Destinnee had completely disappeared. Amanda gave him a sympathetic look but turned her attention back to her control panels.
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