The Warlord

by CJ Williams

  A Phantom moved forward, but stayed well behind Lulubelle. It launched a Sadie-class yacht which approached the proposed structure. A dozen men in battle armor disembarked and swarmed around the building. After an exterior examination, they entered through the airlock. It was easy to spot the engineer. He was awkward in the combat gear and the first person to remove his helmet once inside. The inspection went quickly.

  Elaine relayed the results. “The engineer reports that the podium is merely the control panel for lateral thrusters. The structure has gravity drives similar to our own. He found nothing else that could be a threat.”

  “Very well,” Luke acknowledged. “Have the Phantom retrieve its crew and resume formation. Leave the yacht with us.”

  An hour later, a small craft again left the dreadnought for the pentagon. Once it was close, three figures left the shuttle and entered the airlock. During the process, the Greys did not wear any type of protective space suit. They simply exited their shuttle and pushed off to reach the conference facility. Two of them wore weapons slung over their shoulder.

  “Look at that!” Grant said with surprise in his voice. “They can survive in a vacuum.”

  “I didn’t see that coming,” Luke admitted. “I wonder how long they could stay out there.”

  Once inside, one of the Greys sat at the table and the other two stood behind it, against the far wall.

  “You’re up, Sandy,” Luke said. “Take a couple of guards with you to match their contingent. I have no idea how this will go or what they want to negotiate for. Let them set the tone of the meeting and reply in kind. Don’t worry about fine points or try to reach a mutual understanding. The early discussions are only to establish a playing field. Eventually, you’ll reach an impasse. When that happens, come on back. You still up for this?”

  Sandy had donned robes similar to those worn by royal ministers on Haiyanas Seven. Lots of swishing material with jeweled necklaces and bracelets. She had added a gold colored metal vest with intricate filigree to serve as an extra layer of body armor.

  “Yes sir,” she said smiling, trying to hide her nervousness. “With this outfit, I feel like I’m ready for a prom. And that was a lot more stressful than this.”

  After a quick ride in the yacht, Sandy and her pair of bodyguards entered the pentagon. She took a seat at the long table opposite the Grey negotiator. Her soldiers assumed a flanking position behind her against the near wall.

  On Lulubelle’s bridge Luke said, “George, put the conversation on speaker.”

  “Yes, Commander,” George replied.

  The conversation inside the negotiation room filled the bridge. The Grey facing Sandy introduced himself with an unpronounceable name and immediately began to harangue her with a long list of grievances and demands.

  It insisted that King Haejeog had promised delivery of replicator technology and the secret to the Booker spacecraft. Where were they? If Sandy did not produce them immediately, it could mean war, which the humans would certainly lose.

  “If that dreadnought so much as flinches, blow it away,” Luke said.

  “Got it,” Grant replied.

  The Grey complained about the human’s recent provocations during their last encounter and the unprovoked violence. The alien demanded she confess to a variety of misdeeds and insisted that the humans offer appropriate compensation. Sandy sat quietly until Luke started to wonder if he had sent the right person. Hopefully she would not offer any admission of guilt.

  Finally, the Grey paused to take a breath and Sandy launched into him like a tigress. Who was this colorless midget to make demands upon her esteemed presence? She did not deal with common laborers. And then she began to verbally strip his grey hide inch by inch.

  Luke laughed out loud. “That girl was brought up on a farm, I’m telling you that’s for sure.”

  Grant grinned. “I was going to say inner city. She sounds like my big sister.”

  Luke shook his head. “I don’t think so. Too many references to barnyard animals.”

  “George,” Grant said. “Where is Sandy’s home of record?”

  “Lieutenant Fitzgerald was raised in Beatrice, Nebraska.”

  “Corn country,” Luke said. “Told you.”

  After receiving Sandy’s thorough verbal lashing, the Grey contingent slunk out of the pentagon to their shuttle and returned to the dreadnought. Thirty minutes later a new Grey team arrived.

  Sandy plowed through two negotiators but the third Grey changed tactics. He used a more reasoned tone and intimated that perhaps Sandy was not the right person to continue the discussion. She sighed and expressed her amazement that although each Grey she had spoken to claimed to be a negotiator, all were so completely obnoxious. Luke sensed she was nearing her capacity for being patiently insulting.

  Luke turned to Grant. “Bring the oldest army grunt we’ve got to the bridge.”

  Grant looked puzzled but gave the order. A moment later a wizened soldier marched onto the bridge.

  “Chief Gunny Ellieos reporting sir!” he snapped a salute at Grant who nodded toward Luke. “He’s the one who wants to see you, Gunny. Meet King Lucas.”

  The older man, surprised by Luke’s presence, immediately dropped to one knee.

  Luke tugged on his elbow to stand up.

  “Gunny, you must be from King Haejeog’s army. How long have you been a gunny?”

  “Near four hundred years, Majesty.”

  Unlike King Dracci, King Haejeog had not withheld life-extending implants from his own people.

  “Trained a lot of young troops?” Luke asked.

  The old gunny smiled. “Aye, Sire. Quite a few.”

  “Then you’ve heard plenty of excuses.”

  “Aye Sire, more than the pebbles at Shrunken Mountain and none worth hearing.”

  Luke grinned at the man. “Gunny, I need you to argue my case. Listen to this conversation.”

  After a few moments, Gunny summed up his thoughts. “Barracks lawyer, Majesty. I’ve seen many of them in my years. They sound good, but there’s no reason behind their arguments. Just hot air.”

  “Gunny, I’m going to pull Lieutenant Fitzgerald out of there in a few minutes,” Luke said. “She’s been in there for a couple of hours and I want you to take her place. Just treat whoever it is like you would a smartass recruit. When you feel it’s time, come on back.”

  “Aye, Majesty. I’m proud to represent you against these thieving dogs.”

  “Elaine, could you outfit Gunny in something regal?”

  “Of course, Commander. Come with me please, Chief Gunny.”

  *.*.*.*

  A half hour later, Gunny and two of his soldiers entered the pentagon. Lieutenant Fitzgerald returned to her station on the bridge, now back in a standard ship’s uniform.

  “Excellent job, Lieutenant,” Luke said. “I really mean that.”

  Sandy blushed. “Thank you, sir. It was very interesting. I didn’t like them though. And they smell bad.”

  “They smell?” Luke asked, surprised. That fact had not been one of the impressions he had received from Annie.

  “They certainly do. Like an old pumpkin after Halloween. I just had the feeling that there’s something really evil about them.”

  “I think you’re right,” Carrie said walking onto the bridge. During the exchange of negotiators, one of the armed yachts had brought her from Haiyanas.

  “Hi, Carrie,” Luke greeted his younger sister. “Why do you think she’s right.”

  “I can just feel it,” she replied. She fixed Luke with a stern glare. “Why didn’t you include me in this?”

  Luke was surprised by her remonstration. “Well, for one thing, you said you didn’t want to be involved in operations. And besides, I didn’t know this was going to be a negotiation. As soon as I did, we sent for you.”

  “Okay. That’s fair enough. Move.” She elbowed Luke aside and stood in front of the main viewing window, her face taut with concentration. “Oh, my God!” she ex
claimed. “They’re cannibals!” Her face screwed up with revulsion. “Did you know that?”

  Luke grimaced at her announcement. “Not till just now.” A panicked look came across his face. “What about…?”

  “No. That Grey doesn’t know anything about Annie. Hang on.” Carrie pressed her palms against her temples. “No, Annie is fine. At least the chief negotiator believes she is. He’s on the dreadnought. And Annie is not on that ship.”

  “That much I knew,” Luke said, relaxing ever so slightly. Carrie’s news had both sickened and scared him to death. “Can you tell where she is?”

  “Be quiet,” Carrie shushed him. Her face paled from the effort she was exerting.

  Luke moved close to Grant and spoke quietly. “Have someone bring her a comfortable chair with a hot drink.”

  *.*.*.*

  Two hours later Carrie relaxed. “That’s all I can stand,” she said. “I tried to look into the mind of all the senior officers, but these critters have a different brain. I can’t pull out any significant information; just surface thoughts. Essentially, they are a warlike race. On their home planets, they spend a good deal of time raiding each other’s cities.”

  “Raiding?” That didn’t make sense to Luke. Space faring civilizations typically didn’t raid their neighbors, at least not on the same planet. “For what?” he asked.

  Carrie looked sick. “For food.”

  Luke grimaced. He didn’t want any more details. “Nice culture.”

  “By the way,” Carrie said. “This guy is about to give up and the senior negotiator is next.”

  “Time for me then I guess,” Luke said, heading off the bridge.

  “You’re not going to change into some gold encrusted uniform?” Grant asked.

  Luke shook his head. He was wearing an unadorned flight suit, his normal attire onboard, with a personal protection field strapped to his waist. The only decoration was a nametag that read BLACKBURN.

  “Nope. The time for games is over. Back me up, Carrie?”

  “I’ll be with you,” she said tapping her temple. “The important thing is to be calm. Remember, this is a diplomatic situation. Both sides negotiate to get on the same page. Please keep that in mind.”

  Luke snorted at her. “You know me. I’m the most peaceable man in the entire galaxy.”

  Carrie gave him a worried look. “Then why does everyone call you the Warlord?”

  *.*.*.*

  When Luke’s shuttle pulled up to the pentagon, he and his two military escorts launched from the cargo bay door and floated over to the negotiation chamber. By the time they cycled through the airlock, the new Grey was already seated at the table, his two subordinates rigidly standing against the far wall. Annie was right, all three looked exactly alike.

  Luke had his own guards take up a position against the wall. He grabbed the chair at his end of the table and dragged it noisily across the floor to where the senior Grey waited. Its two guards started to approach but the negotiator motioned to them to hold their position.

  Luke put the chair as close as possible to the Grey and sat down to stare at the alien.

  After a moment, the Grey looked back and forth from the windows to the airlock as though trying to figure out what was going on. His eyes widened and he glared at Luke. “I am Ambassador Schamisttmaz. Where is your negotiator? The time for your games is over. I insist that…”

  “Where is my wife?” Luke growled in a savage voice. “Tell me!”

  The Grey flinched at the threatening tone. “I…I…You will not address me in that tone. I am instructi…Ack!”

  Before the Grey could react, Luke leaned forward and grabbed the animal by its thick neck. The alien tried to look over its shoulder but the two guards had already slumped to the floor unconscious. Carrie might not be able to read their minds, but a mental offense was her specialty. Luke’s guards had not even moved.

  “Answer me,” Luke hissed. “Tell me or I’ll break your thick ugly neck!”

  “I don’t know!” the Grey bleated.

  Luke thrust the Ambassador backwards, hard enough to tip over its saddle-chair. The creature landed on the floor with a crash, its four legs thrashing clumsily in the air. It rolled away and bounded to its feet, trying to assume a fighting position, all six limbs on the floor, its head lowered like mountain goat, ready to butt horns with an opponent. It looked ridiculous. It seemed to recognize the instinctive stance was inappropriate and rose up to normal height. The creature looked slightly embarrassed by its momentary display.

  “I will destroy you,” the alien yowled. “Do you know who I am? I am the Honorable…”

  “Shut up!” Luke barked. “You are a messenger, nothing more. So here is the message.” He smacked the alien across its snout. “Are you listening, Schmitty!”

  “Yes,” the creature sniveled and jerked back another step.

  Luke advanced until the Grey was backed up against the wall. He grabbed its neck again and hoisted it so high the two middle limbs were lifted off the floor.

  Luke stared directly into the frightened alien’s large oval eyes and said, “You will return to your superiors and tell them they have three months to bring my wife back to this system. If they don’t, I will exterminate your species.” Luke held the alien in place while it struggled futilely.

  After a moment, Luke released the negotiator and stepped back. Schamisttmaz gurgled for a moment trying to get air back into its lungs. Once it could breathe comfortably, it made a show of visibly calming itself. Using both hands, it repeatedly brushed its chest as though smoothing ruffled fur.

  Finally, it spoke with a false sounding bravado. “Ah. So, you begin your negotiations with intimidation. That is a valuable lesson. But it will not serve you well when punishment is levied. Pelsttazz says ‘when your death is nigh only you shall tremble’.” The alien’s words were belied by the way it hunched its back, like a dog with its tail between its legs.

  “Is that right?” Luke said. “I can quote old movies too. How about ‘the oxen are slow but the earth is patient.’ Makes more sense than yours.”

  Carefully, the alien set the saddle-chair back upright. “Our negotiations have ended,” it said, gradually straightening to its full height. “I will ignore your demands. Instead, I will return to my homeworld where our leaders will decide what is required from your race.”

  Luke concentrated on his ship’s AI. You there, George? he asked mentally.

  Yes, Commander. Standing by for your go ahead.

  Luke sighed. He considered himself a peaceful individual. But not when it came to dealing with the kidnappers of his wife. Proportional Response was for idiots. It was best to meet threats with massive retaliation. You have the hammer, George.

  Disdainfully the alien said, “My armada will take what they wish from your pretty green planet. At the least, it will include placing you with our feedstock.”

  “No,” Luke said calmly.

  “No?” The alien sniffed through the two slits where its nose should be. “You do not have a say in this matter. I am surprised that—”

  Luke spoke slowly as though to a child. “I said you will return, not your armada. Those ships intruded into my sovereign territory without permission. They are guilty of trespassing and will be destroyed.”

  The alien lips peeled back in a sneer revealing sharpened teeth.

  Luke irrationally thought, these guys don’t know anything about dental hygiene.

  “Do not speak foolishly,” the creature said. “If you anger me, more of your people will suffer. My ships will rain destruction on your pitiful world.”

  As if to underscore its words, the alien looked over its shoulder and then jerked in astonishment. Its massive fleet, supposedly poised and waiting to wreak the vengeance of the Greys, was being destroyed.

  Dozens of dreadnoughts drifted aimlessly, already reduced to nothing more than shredded metal. Arc-beams lanced out from the rest, but without effect. The devastating scythe-like blades were being di
ffused by billions of glinting metallic fibers that were exploding from chaff bundles delivered by Luke’s specially designed warheads.

  The chaff soaked up the arc-beam’s energy, splitting each one into millions of tiny sparks, like branch lightning in a thunderstorm. The reflected glow illuminated the entire dreadnought fleet.

  A thousand Starfighters appeared, decelerating from the invisibility of lightspeed, were firing at the Grey formation unimpeded. With no other weaponry than their useless arc-beams, the dreadnoughts were sitting ducks.

  The Alliance warships launched thousands of guided missiles. Each warhead exploded into dozens of titanium rods, resulting in half a million indestructible projectiles lancing through the suddenly defenseless Greys.

  The battle lasted less than three minutes. When it was over the only thing left of the alien armada were metal fragments.

  Schamisttmaz shrank against the wall. His eyes bulged out of his eye sockets until Luke thought they might pop out of his oversized head.

  “What…what about our treaty?” it whispered. “You can’t do this.”

  “What treaty!” Luke barked. “What treaty are you talking about?”

  “Our treaty. The treaty between our peoples. You invaded our space so we have a claim against you.”

  Luke grabbed the alien by his neck once more. Schamisttmaz was actually shivering from fright.

  Luke leaned close and said, “Are you telling me you came here because of a treaty dispute? Is that what this is about?”

  “Yes!” the alien wailed. “We came in peace and you attacked our diplomatic delegation. You’re insane.”

  “And you are one lying goat,” Luke spat. “I am the Warlord. I crush civilizations like yours for breakfast. If you want to negotiate with me, then bring back by wife. You have three months. If she is not standing right here before me I will destroy every world that is inhabited by your disgusting species. As long as you understand that, then we’re both on the same page. You are free to go.”

  With that, Luke nodded at his two guards. The three humans cycled through the airlock and headed back toward Lulubelle, leaving the alien cowering on the floor.