by Doug Farren
Tom felt a strange sense of déjà vu walking through the familiar passageways of the Dragon. His new cybernetic senses enhanced the background sounds and smells that had surrounded him during his tour on the ship bringing back a flood of memories. Now, instead of living in a small room with three other shipmates, he was being escorted into officer territory where he would take up residence in a single-occupancy stateroom.
The door to his stateroom had barely closed when Tom said, “Dragon, is Petty Officer Owens still assigned?”
“He is,” the familiar voice of the ship instantly replied.
“What is his current location?”
“Petty Officer Owens is currently in his quarters; deck 5, frame 32, starboard side.”
The passageways were mostly empty as Tom unerringly made his way to his old quarters. He was grateful for the fact that he did not recognize the few people he did encounter along his route. He did not have a lot of time and he really wanted to surprise his old friend.
Tom pressed the door-chime button. A second later, an unfamiliar face appeared as the door slid open. Farther back in the room, Tom spotted Bill lying prone on his bunk, a tablet resting on his chest. Bill glanced over to see who was at the door and suddenly yelled, “Tom!” The unexpected outburst startled the other roommate sitting at the computer terminal.
The roommate who had answered the door turned his head and asked, “You know him?”
“Hell yes!” Bill replied, rapidly climbing out of his bunk. “Come on in. I never expected to see you again.”
Bill’s roommate nervously stood aside as Tom entered the cramped quarters. Tom recognized the man at the computer as his other ex-roommate, Petty Officer Mark Kline. “I’ll be damned!” Mark said, shoving the terminal into the wall to make some more room.
Tom, Mark, and Bill all shook hands and clapped each other on the shoulders. Tom had to restrain himself from smacking his old roommates too hard—his cybernetic limbs could easily have sent them to the med-bay, or worse.
“Tom,” Bill pointed to the other now completely confused roommate and said, “This is Paul Saunders. He took your billet after you deserted us. Paul, this is Tom Wilks, your predecessor.”
Tom shook hands with the still nervous Petty Officer, “Glad to meet you,” he said.
Half an hour later, Tom reluctantly left his friends in order to attend the meeting with the command staff. He promised to meet them all for breakfast the next morning.
As soon as everyone had arrived, Sorbith began the meeting. “Several years ago, this ship engaged a group of AOH warships while in the Hess system. Until then, nobody realized the AOH possessed any warships. Seven of them were refurbished LA-class destroyers. Six were of an unknown design. Shortly after the end of the Chroniech war, I began investigating the mystery surrounding the Army of Humanity. Where did they get their weapons? Where did the unknown ships come from? How had the AOH managed to build a fleet of warships without anyone knowing about it? We had a lot of questions and no answers.
“Through the efforts of many people and especially Peacekeeper Chyr, we discovered that the AOH has been moving stolen weapons and material using our own cargo ships. For security reasons I cannot divulge the details of how this was accomplished. While following up on this information, Peacekeeper Chyr has identified a possible location for the AOH base of operations.”
Chyr stood up and provided the command staff with a brief explanation of how she had followed the Naruma. “Even though we now have two pieces of evidence pointing to the base being near HR 8323, there’s no guarantee it’s actually there,” she concluded.
“The AOH undoubtedly has something in the system but we don’t know what," Sorbith continued the discussion. "At this time, it doesn’t make any sense to assemble a fleet. The only way to know what we are dealing with is to go looking for it. I selected the Komodo Dragon for this mission based upon its unique offensive and defensive capabilities. Based upon what we currently know, your mission is to determine if an AOH base does exist and if so ascertain its defensive capabilities.”
“I just pulled up the specs on HR 8323,” Doug said, peering into the screen built into the tabletop. “I find it highly unlikely the AOH would have built a base in that system.”
“Can you elaborate?” Sorbith asked.
“Certainly." Doug touched a key on the computer interface in front of him. The room lights dimmed and a holographic image of the target star system appeared. “The system has a large debris disk surrounding the star. Although this would make it easier to hide a base, there are no habitable planets in the system. Any base, especially one possessing a shipyard, would require a large support infrastructure. Ships need to be supplied with food, water, breathable air, spare parts, et cetera. Take a look at Almaranus—most of the planet’s population and industry is devoted to supporting the shipyards.”
Sorbith nodded his head. “I agree. But right now, this is our best lead. The system hasn’t been surveyed in decades and most of the space beyond is unexplored.”
“That’s an awful lot of space for a single ship to explore,” Doug mused. “It’s going to take some time.”
“I’m curious,” Commander Stiles, the ship’s executive officer, spoke up. “You said the AOH was using our own cargo ships to transport stolen weapons. Although I’m concerned as to how they managed to pull off that little trick, what bothers me more is why they needed to do it in the first place. If they have a shipyard capable of turning out large numbers of advanced warships, why would they risk detection by stealing weapons from us? Why not just build them themselves?”
“We have asked the same question,” Sorbith shook his head. “There are many unanswered questions concerning the AOH. Why are they building warships in the first place? What do they plan on doing with them?”
“I’m assuming you’ve checked out Safa,” Doug said.
“We have. Safa lacks the industrial ability to build any type of starship. Their agricultural output is sufficient for their own population but falls far short of being able to support a base. The system is under surveillance by a network of stealthed probes.”
“What ever became of the two missing colony ships?" This question came from Commander Mikial Kovalesky, the ship’s security officer. “The records claim they both vanished without a trace.”
“You’ve done your research,” Sorbith replied. “For those who don’t know, the Commander is referring to the fact that two of the seven colony ships that departed Earth after the Tholtaran war remain unaccounted for. They were the last two ships to leave and, as far as we know, never made it to Safa. No trace of them has ever been found.”
Mikial leaned back and crossed his muscular arms over his chest. He had been the Dragon’s security officer for nearly a decade. Standing 165 centimeters tall, his black skin and heavy Russian accent made him an intimidating figure. “I find it hard to believe that the families of those who were lost didn’t try to determine the fate of their loved ones. Those ships just didn’t disappear, they went somewhere.”
“Hopefully, that mystery will also be solved when we find the AOH base of operations,” Sorbith replied.
The meeting went on for a few more minutes during which time they discussed the plan for searching the star system. At the end of the meeting, Sorbith asked the Peacekeepers to remain behind for a moment.
After everyone left, he said, “In the middle of the meeting, I received some encouraging news from Dennis. The security of our communication system has been restored. Through his analysis of the code running on the Mojave station’s computers, he has determined that CAIN's legacy code can only be accessed via the communication lines in the basement of the old AST building.”
“That’s really good news,” Tom replied.
“Are you certain we shouldn’t bring in some more ships?” Chyr asked.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Tom said. “And I know just who to ask.”
Sorbith looked in his direction and asked, �
�And who might that be?”
“Now that the war is over, there are a lot of Mishpa-class interceptors with nothing to do. The Rouldians have been using them as patrol vessels but that’s not why they were built. They’re fast and equipped with state-of-the art sensory equipment.”
“They’re also heavily shielded,” Chyr added. “I think Tom’s suggestion has merit.”
“I was opposed to assembling a fleet,” Sorbith said. “But you’re right; having more ships at our disposal would speed up the search. I’ll see how many we can get.”
Tom was feeling on top of the world as he headed back to his stateroom. They had plugged a long-standing hole in the Alliance communication network while at the same time solving a decades-long mystery involving the Tholtaran attack on Olympus. He was confident they would locate the AOH base and, best of all; he was back aboard the Dragon.
Chapter 31
Tom walked into the mess hall and instantly became the center of attention. Word spread fast that he had returned and a large portion of the crew had gathered to welcome him back as well as to congratulate him on becoming a Peacekeeper. The mess deck was large, but it was not designed to hold this many people. Every table was occupied and the space between them was packed with the late arrivals.
He had always been a popular member of the crew. His ability to remember names and faces made it easy to address almost anyone by their first name giving them the impression he knew them as his friend. In reality, he liked to keep his true friends to a short list of those he really enjoyed being around. It was those friends he had expected to meet this morning, not half the entire ship.
The ventilation system was fighting a losing battle against so many people and the air was beginning to become thick with exhaled humidity and body odors. Tom spotted the friends he really wanted to see waiting for him at two tables in the far corner of the room and plotted a course to them. Along the way, he accepted the congratulations and greetings from many of the people whom he had come to know during his previous tour on the Dragon. There was no doubt, however, where he was heading.
Because of the number of people vying for his attention, it took him nearly ten minutes to cross the room. By the time he reached his friends, most of the crowd had dissipated.
“The celebrity finally arrives!” Bill announced.
Tom sat down then realized he had not stopped to get himself any breakfast. “Crap,” he muttered under his breath. Before he had a chance to stand, a plate of steaming food appeared. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the cook’s smiling face.
“Scrambled with ham and green pepper, two slices of extra-crispy bacon, and a cup of black coffee,” the cook said.
“Jiro, you remembered!” Tom said.
The smile on First Class Petty Officer Jiro Yasui’s face became even broader. “Of course I remember. You ordered practically the same thing for breakfast every day for over three years. Once a week you would order something different though, mostly pancakes.”
“I guess it pays to be predictable. Thank you.”
“You are welcome,” Jiro bowed slightly. “Congratulations Peacekeeper Wilks.”
Tom returned the bow then sat down with his friends. Mark suddenly craned his neck and looked over Tom’s shoulder, then stuck his arm up and waved. “It’s the skipper,” he said, in response to Tom’s questioning look.
“May I join you?” Doug asked from behind.
“Certainly Captain,” replied Gerry Walters, a female com-tech.
“I thought it would be best to wait until the crowd left,” Doug said, as he took a seat.
“It was a bit crazy in here,” Chief Petty Officer Pradyumna Dalal said. The Chief, who was assigned to the supply department, had been a First Class PO when Tom last saw him.
Sitting with his arms on either side of his untouched plate, Tom looked around at his friends. “It’s good to see you all again.”
“You’re not going to get all teary-eyed on us are you?” Bill jokingly said.
Gerry pointed to Tom’s eyes. “With eyes like those? I bet they replaced his tear ducts with oil lubricators.”
“You're both wrong,” Tom said, picking up a fork. “No, I’m not going to cry. Yes, I can cry. And no, it wouldn’t be tears of oil.”
Mark picked up his coffee cup and held it up. The others quickly followed suit. “To lasting friendship.”
“To lasting friendship!” everyone echoed.
“So how is Captain Stricklen doing?” Tom asked. “Reaping the benefits of his fame I hope.”
“Last I heard he was doing just fine,” Doug replied, rolling his mug between the palms of his hands. “He decided to retire and is living in his family home back on Earth.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t look him up,” Pradyumna said, looking at Tom.
“I forgot all about his house in Minnesota,” Tom replied. “I will definitely have to stop and see him when I get back.”
Bill stuck his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his thumbs. “So, tell us about the academy. What’s it feel like to be a cyborg?”
“Yeah,” Gerry chimed in. “Can you leap tall buildings with a single bound? Bend steel with your bare hands?”
“The heck with all that,” Doug said. “I want to know if you can still have fun with the women.”
“Hey, there's a lady present you know,” Bill said, on the heels of Doug’s last statement.
Pointing his thumb at Gerry, Mark defended Doug by saying, “She’s one of us. Besides, I bet she wants to know too.”
Gerry plopped her elbows on the table and duplicated Bill’s posture. “Go ahead Tom—tell us—I’m curious." Lowering her eyes as if she could peer through the surface of the table she continued, “What have they done to you…down there?”
“Fully functional,” Tom replied. Leaning across the table, he pretended to whisper in Gerry’s direction, “Stop by my quarters tonight and I’ll prove it to you.”
“Only if you let me record it so these guys,” she said, waving her hands in a big circle, “can’t accuse me of lying.”
Tom was happier than he had been in a long time. This is what he missed most; the playful bantering and badgering that went on when his friends were all together. They were comfortable with one another. Doug was not seen as the unapproachable captain of the ship and Gerry was just another one of the guys. And Tom was not a Peacekeeper; he was their friend.
Two hours later, the group reluctantly broke up, vowing to meet again tomorrow morning. Tom decided to accompany Doug to the bridge. After walking in silence for a minute, Doug asked, “Are you happy with your decision to become a Peacekeeper?”
“I am,” Tom honestly replied. “I’ve had to make a lot of changes to my life, but I’ve been happy with my decision so far.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“I do miss my friends though,” Tom admitted.
“Don’t you have a new group of friends?”
“One,” Tom replied after a moment. “We're actually a little more than just friends though.”
Doug looked at Tom as if he had just told him he had inherited a planet. “You’re serious with someone? You?”
“She’s Rouldian,” Tom replied, grinning.
“Rouldian! Now I know you’re pulling my leg.”
“Actually, I’m not. We’re true-mates, the Rouldian word is gragrakch. Look it up sometime.”
Doug stopped and stared. “You’re serious, aren’t you? How the hell do you…Never mind—I don’t want to know.”
“We’re friends Doug,” Tom explained. “So how’s Cheryl?”
Cheryl was Doug’s wife. She had been a fusion reactor specialist assigned to the Komodo Dragon during the long voyage through Chroniech space in search of the Kyrra. Ken Stricklen married them aboard the Kyrra worldship.
“She’s doing fine. The war rattled her pretty good and she asked to be assigned to a surface post. She’s at Almaranus now maintaining their reactors. Now that the Dragon is assigned
to the Almaranus defense force we get to see each other quite often.”
The marine guarding the entrance to the bridge snapped to attention and opened the door for them. “Thank you Corporal,” Doug automatically said, as they stepped through the hatch.
“Captain on the bridge!” Commander Stiles announced.
Tom saw Sorbith standing by the communications console and headed toward him while Doug walked over to the command chair. “You were right about the Rouldians,” Sorbith said. “We have 32 interceptors on the way.”
“How long before they arrive?”
“They’re being sent from all over,” Sorbith replied. “The first will arrive at about the same time we do. Most of the rest will show up anywhere between seven and twelve days later.”
“That might make it difficult to coordinate an efficient search.”
“We’ll manage. How was your reunion with your friends?”
Tom smiled. “It went very well.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I’ve asked the Captain to schedule another meeting with his staff so we can work out the fine details concerning how we’re going to conduct the search. With more ships on the way, I’d like you and Chyr to put together a new plan taking them into consideration.”
The ship’s computer informed him that Chyr was still in her stateroom. As Tom rounded the corner, her door opened and a man emerged. He looked straight at Tom with a slightly embarrassed look on his face. Tom felt a twinge of jealousy as he recognized him.
“Hey Juan,” he called out in greeting.
Juan waved and then headed down the passageway in the opposite direction. Tom watched him until he turned the corner at the other end. Chyr's door had been left open. “Ah, you’re here,” she said, from inside.
“I take it Sorbith has explained to you what we are to discuss?” Tom said, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice.
Chyr’s eyes narrowed. This created an interesting facial expression because of her horizontal rather than vertical eyelids. “He did,” she replied. “Is everything okay?”
Tom knew Chyr would not understand his jealousy; Shandarians were devoid of such emotions. Even though he was still not his normal self, he put a hand on her shoulder and managed to conjure up a smile. “It’s complicated. I’ll be fine.”
