Peacekeeper

by Doug Farren

  Sorbith’s reply was short and to the point. “Message received. Provide additional information as soon as it is available.”

  Twenty-six hours later, all three probes began detecting faint signals originating from the fourth planet. A few minutes later, they picked up the drive-wakes of several ships on an intercept course. Following a short electronic conversation amongst themselves, all of the probes headed straight for the fourth planet in order to gather as much intelligence there as possible. As the data continued to arrive, it became clear that the system harbored a large number of warships.

  At a distance of 430,000 kilometers, one of the probes was forced out of stardrive. A warship rapidly approached and a few minutes later, it ceased transmitting. The silhouette confirmed that the ship was an AOH vessel. One by one, over the next 20 minutes, the remaining probes were destroyed, but not before they had sent back some very interesting data.

  Tom powered up his transmitter and told the Orion to send a transcript of every bit of information the probes had gathered to Sorbith. While waiting for the reply he analyzed the data. The results disturbed him. Sorbith’s reply arrived six hours later, “I am recalling all search vessels. Maintain your current position until we arrive.”

  For the next few days, Tom had nothing to do but wait. Trusting the Orion to alert him of any problems, he spent his time playing chess, watching movies, and working on his carving. The Orion interrupted these activities twice as an AOH warship came within sensor range. Tom reasoned they were looking for him.

  “Queen to D6,” he said, trying desperately to avoid a well-planned trap the Orion had managed to spring on him.

  “Knight to…Multiple drive wakes detected,” the ship interrupted itself. The tactical display sprang to life and a moment later the familiar icons designating them as Alliance ships appeared.

  “Drop the cloak and power all systems,” Tom ordered.

  The ship soon informed him that Sorbith wanted to talk. Tom activated a console and Sorbith’s smiling face appeared. “Well done,” he began.

  “Thank you,” Tom said. “I’ve been going over the data from the fourth—”

  “We have noted the same problem,” Sorbith interrupted. “A fleet is on the way. As soon as we arrive, dock with the Dragon. We need to discuss our options.”

  A short time later, Tom, along with Doug Scarboro, Chyr, and a Rouldian named Quinth were seated in the Dragon’s conference room. The Rouldian was there at Sorbith’s request.

  “I have asked Captain Quinth to join us in order to have another member of the Alliance represented at this meeting. He is the most senior of all the Rouldians who have joined us in this search.”

  Quinth raised himself up and dipped his massive head in humble acknowledgment. “I am honored.”

  “I would like to summarize what we have discovered in order to ensure we are all working with the same data,” Sorbith began. “There is no doubt we have found the AOH base. There are at least 30 ships in the area as well as three orbital shipyards. Some of the data, however, has given us cause for concern.”

  A graph appeared on the room’s main display. “This is the chemical composition of the fourth planet’s atmosphere. Note the excessive level of sulfur dioxide as well as the elevated levels of airborne particulates. These, along with other data, would indicate the discovery of an inhabited planet with a widespread coal-based technology. This is supported by the complete lack of communication satellites as well as the limited use of the electromagnetic spectrum.”

  A wide-angle view of the planet appeared. “Contrast the previous information with the presence of a number of fusion power sources on the surface clustered within several areas scattered around the planet and I’m forced to make a very unpleasant conclusion. The Purists must have discovered this world and made contact with the inhabitants.”

  “I thought the AOH was against the alien influence of humanity,” Doug said.

  “Apparently they don’t see anything wrong with the reverse situation,” Quinth remarked.

  “What are we going to do?” Chyr said. “There’s no telling what the Purists have told the inhabitants or how they’re treating them.”

  “The conditions on the planet are of secondary concern,” Sorbith explained. “We are primarily interested in the AOH warships. The probes identified the presence of 33 large spacecraft. I have no doubt there are more.”

  “But what if some of the inhabitants are aboard those ships?” Chyr asked. “We would be killing innocent beings who have very likely been lied to!”

  “I agree,” Quinth quickly said. “I do not believe the Alliance Council would support attacking the shipyards or any of the surface installations. They may not even allow the ships to be attacked. We seem to have a problem here.”

  “I intend on trying to negotiate a peaceful resolution to this problem,” Sorbith replied. “However, the AOH cannot be allowed to continue to build warships and they must agree to hand over the ones they currently possess.”

  “And if they refuse?” Tom asked.

  “Then we will have no choice but to use force.”

  Quinth’s tail swished, coming dangerously close to knocking over one of the unoccupied chairs. “With all due respect Peacekeeper,” he said. “I do not believe you are qualified to make that decision.”

  “Actually, I am,” Sorbith replied. “All Peacekeepers are. But we will not be making any quick decisions today. I will refer the problem to the Alliance Grand Council and await their decision regarding this issue." Turning to Doug, he said, “Captain, the Dragon’s FTL transceiver has a greater range than the one in my ship. How long will it take a message to reach Centralis from here?”

  “Dragon, respond to Sorbith’s question,” Doug said into the air.

  The ship’s computer, always listening to the conversations taking place anywhere inside the ship, instantly replied, “Approximately 12 hours. The majority of that time is due to the distance to the nearest hub located on Earth, 68 light years from our current position.”

  “I'm surprised you haven't been outfitted with a Kyrra com-unit,” Quinth addressed the ship.

  He had not expected a reply and was surprised when it said, “Such equipment is quite bulky and requires a significant amount of power to operate. Installing it would reduce my effectiveness as a warship.”

  “How are you planning on negotiating with the AOH?” Chyr asked.

  “I would prefer to talk to them face to face,” Sorbith replied. “I don’t like the idea of talking at a distance. Communication delays will only hamper our efforts.”

  “I think that’s where I come in,” Doug said, sitting up straighter in his chair. “The Dragon will be able to get you safely out of harm’s way in the event the AOH tries to pull a fast one on us. When do you want to leave?”

  “As soon as I send the message to Centralis as well as one to the Purists,” Sorbith replied.

  Twenty minutes later, the Komodo Dragon engaged its stardrive. The Purists had yet to reply. Doug kept the Dragon’s speed to 5,000c to show the AOH that his ship was faster than anything they possessed as well as to give them some more time to respond. Sorbith’s message had asked that a representative be sent to meet them at a distance of eight million kilometers from the fourth planet.

  “Slowing to compensate for gravitational interference,” the helm announced as they moved closer to the system.

  “Tactical, report all contacts,” Doug said.

  “I have 33 large vessels within detector range,” the tactical station replied. “Fifteen are positioned one million kilometers from the planet directly in our path There are also a large number of smaller ships in the area all of which appear to be shuttles of some type.”

  “Communications?”

  “Nothing Sir.”

  “Helm, drop to normal at eight million kilometers and hold your position. Weapons, keep everything in hot standby but don’t target anything unless you get a direct order from myself,” Doug ordered. Spinnin
g the command chair around, he looked at Sorbith and asked, “How long do we wait for a reply?”

  “As long as it takes,” Sorbith said. “Or at least until the fleet arrives and we get direction from Centralis on how to proceed.”

  “Standby to drop to normal,” the helm announced.

  A few seconds later, the Dragon dropped out of stardrive. Fifteen minutes passed before the tactical station spoke up, “There is a single ship heading towards us. ETA, 45 minutes.”

  “Message from the planet!” the com-station announced.

  Doug touched the flashing button that had appeared on his console as all three Peacekeepers leaned over his shoulder. A bearded face belonging to a man looking to be in his late forties appeared on the screen. “I am Fakhir Aldin Amari,” he said, his voice deep and heavily accented. “I represent the Purists of Al-Thar. Your presence here is unwanted. I am aboard the ship now en route to you. I will hear what you have to say and then you will leave, never to return.”

  “Now that was interesting,” Doug said, staring into the blank screen.

  “I find it interesting that he speaks Standard,” Tom remarked.

  “Everyone speaks or at least understands Standard,” Chyr said.

  “He’s a Purist,” Tom explained. “They are against anything that is not conceived by a human. Galactic Standard is an artificial language created by non-humans. To a Purist, learning how to speak Standard would be like drinking poison.”

  “There are a lot of things about these people that don’t make sense,” Quinth said.

  Chapter 35

  “Their shield is down,” the tactical station said as the AOH warship approached. “Weapon systems appear to be unpowered.”

  “Tell me about that ship,” Doug ordered.

  “Mass, 314 kilotons; 4 amidships mounted sledgehammers in armored turrets; 8 heavy particle-beam cannons with parallel laser turrets—four forward and four aft; 18 CIWS mounts. There’s a large structure located between the four sledgehammers; possibly a missile launcher enclosure. Picking up 11 fusion reactors scattered throughout the vessel in addition to the main reactor.”

  Doug looked at Commander Stiles and said, “That’s a lot of armament for vessel that size. Keep a close eye on them. Even with their representative on board I wouldn’t trust them not to try to blow us to atoms. At the first sign of aggression take them out.”

  “Understood,” the XO replied.

  “Open the hangar bay doors,” Doug said. Getting out of his chair, he waved toward the hatch and said, “After you.”

  Sorbith led the way to the hangar bay where the others were waiting. A large table had been set up on one side of the room. Tom, Chyr, Quinth, and Connie Orians, the ship’s counselor, were already there. Doug had suggested the counselor attend the meeting as an observer.

  Ten minutes later, a small shuttle pushed its way through the light force field that kept the atmosphere from escaping. After a graceful landing, the hatch opened and the man Tom had seen on the screen stepped through. He paused at the top of the ramp to look around the hangar then headed straight for the table.

  Sorbith, standing in front of the others, greeted the Purist representative, “I am Peacekeeper Sorbith, a Salquin—”

  “An alien,” Amari interrupted, looking at Sorbith with open contempt.

  Sorbith maintained his composure choosing to ignore the rude behavior. Taking a step to the side, he indicated Tom. “This is Peacekeeper Tom Wilks—”

  “An abomination created by aliens to serve their needs." Amari seemed determined to add his own classification to each person as they were introduced.

  “Peacekeeper Chyr Miberona of the Shandarians.”

  “Another alien abomination.”

  “Captain Quinth of the Rouldian Federation.”

  “An even more repugnant alien species.”

  “And Captain Doug Scarboro, Commanding Officer of this ship.”

  Amari scanned Doug from head to toe as if he was looking for signs of imperfection. “You are human yet you support the alien occupation of Earth. You are a traitor to your species.”

  “Earth is not occupied,” Doug replied. “It’s a willing member of the Alliance. I’m not a traitor and—”

  “Captain,” Sorbith’s quiet voice interrupted.

  Amari’s eyes quickly bounced between Sorbith and the Captain. One side of his lips curled upwards to form a half-smile. Looking at the still-seated counselor, he raised his chin in her direction and asked, “And who is she?”

  “Doctor Orians. She is here as an observer.”

  “Ah! A headshrinker." Amari turned and faced Sorbith. “I am assuming you are the one I should be addressing. Why are you here? What do you want in our star system?”

  Sorbith pointed toward the table. “We are here to negotiate a peaceful resolution to your illegal occupation of an inhabited planet. If you would care to take a seat—”

  “I am not here to negotiate!” Amari’s eyes became mere slits as he spat the words out. “I will not sit at the same table with the likes of you. This is our star system and under the laws of the Alliance, you must respect our wish to leave us alone. We are prepared to defend it with deadly force if necessary.”

  “This star system is not, nor was it ever, yours,” Sorbith replied. “You have unnecessarily interfered with the natural development of the indigenous population of this star system in violation of Alliance law. It is you that—”

  “The Mowry welcomed us with open arms. They willingly serve us and in return—”

  “Serve you?” Chyr interrupted. “They are not your slaves. You have taken advantage—”

  “We are the superior species!” Amari puffed his chest out and stood straighter. “The Mowry have benefited from—”

  “Enough!” Quinth’s vocoder said at maximum volume. The Captain’s tail crashed to the deck with a thunderous boom getting everyone's attention. “Sorbith, this is not a negotiation—it’s an argument and neither party is listening.”

  “Point taken,” Sorbith said, bowing his head slightly. Turning to Amari, he continued, “I understand your beliefs Amari. But they are wrong. We have discovered and eliminated your ability to intercept and manipulate our secure communications. We know how you’ve been stealing our weapons and you will no longer be able to do so. You have been conducting a secret war against the Alliance for decades and you’ve been building warships most likely to use against us. Today it stops.”

  Amari opened his mouth to speak but Sorbith quickly silenced him. “Humans are not a superior species. The Alliance has brought peace and prosperity to its members and Purists are a threat to that peace. Your presence in this star system is in direct violation of Alliance law and you must leave. You have no hope of winning any conflict against the Alliance. The purpose of this meeting is to discuss how to peacefully resolve this problem. We have no desire to resort to force.”

  Amari’s face was red with rage. “We are not subject to Alliance law and you have no rights here,” he yelled. “We are not members of the Alliance and you have no right to tell us what we can and cannot do. The Mowry have welcomed us with open arms and want nothing to do with you. By your own laws, you must leave. I suggest you do so.”

  “You are Terran, not Mowry," Sorbith argued. "Terrans are members of the Alliance. Therefore, you are governed by Alliance law. The Mowry are free to ask us to leave and if they do we will abide by their request—after all Purists have been removed.”

  “You did not come here to negotiate,” Amari replied. “You came here to dictate your terms for our surrender. I will hear no more." Amari spun on his heal and quickly returned to his shuttle. The moment the hatch was closed, it lifted off, and quickly left the hangar bay.

  Doug raised his wrist-com. As soon as he was in contact with the bridge, he began issuing orders. “Raise our shield the moment that shuttle is clear and then head back to the other ships. If that destroyer does anything provocative, if they lock weapons or even power them up,
you are to render it helpless.”

  While Doug was issuing orders, Sorbith walked over to Connie. “Comments?”

  The counselor rubbed her forehead. She was a black woman in her early thirties. Her pitch-black hair was braided into a myriad of tiny filaments that were in turn, woven into little swirls like a swarm of miniature hurricanes on her head. “You are dealing with a fanatic,” she said. “No matter how hard you try, you’re not going to convince him to change his mind.”

  “He can’t be typical of all Purists, can he?” Sorbith asked, hoping for a favorable answer.

  “I’m afraid so,” Connie replied. “You’re battling a lifetime of upbringing. It would be like asking you to give up your belief in clitch’na-toora.”

  Connie was referring to the Saulquin belief in an afterlife. “It’s that bad?” he said, grimacing.

  “I’m afraid it is,” she said, nodding her head.

  “We’ll need to be very careful on how we handle this,” Quinth said. “The ships shouldn’t be too much of a problem but the surface installations are most likely built near Mowry towns. We could end up killing thousands of them. I don’t think that would be a wise thing to do.”

  “They can attack us but we can’t attack them?” Doug said. “That’s unacceptable.”

  “If they attack us, we will defend ourselves appropriately,” Sorbith said. “The problem we face is the Mowry. The Purists have more than likely given them a false impression of the Alliance and we must be very careful not to give them any reason for believing whatever it is they’ve been told. If any Mowry die as a result of our actions against the AOH, we could cause irreparable damage to any future relationship the Alliance might have with them.”

  “So what are we to do?” Tom asked. “We can’t blockade the planet for the next 50 years and hope they’ll eventually give up.”

  “I’m not sure what we’re going to do,” Sorbith admitted. After a moment of thought he looked at Tom and said, “You’re my communications expert; find me a way to directly communicate with the Mowry.”